Two heads together, brown and russet, plotting strategy.

Separating, they advance on the tired man, eyes soft with understanding.

"Sir?"

The heavy head lifts, the broad shoulders straighten painfully, dark eyes focusing, ready to face the world again.

"Agents... I think we're about done here, you don't have to stay."

Closer still, a pincer movement of compassion.

An arm around the lean waist, a kiss on the bare head.

"We're taking you home with us, sir."

Halfway to refusal, he runs out of defences for once.

"Okay."

Smiles, squeezes back.

Two jaws drop, three hearts lift.

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