In her stupor Mabel hadn't realized she had grabbed the wrong cloak; she should have been perspiring something awful by the time she'd reached Dory's doorstep, but she had found herself there before she even thought to turn around and get her summer hat. The early evening sun had beat down upon her and there was a great deal of freckles splattered across her nose by the time she'd arrived. It was only when she'd stepped into his flat - slightly cooler than it was outside - than she realized. Well, that and his light-hearted comment.

She was about to volley back a response - wasn't that what they did? - before his arms encircled her and she found herself inhaling his warm scent. Safe.

And then the tears came. She tried to explain to him what had happened. Dealing with crying children wondering where their parents were, crying parents wondering where their children were; chaos had easily reigned and Mabel had done more than lose control of the situation. She felt wound as taught as a piano wire, and even Dory's closeness wasn't enough to see her relax her posture. "An-and so after he had yelled at me, the squad head told me to get back to the office and do paperwork." As if the paperwork was death sentence enough, Mabel hiccuped again, burying her face even further into him.

---