When Grayson awoke alone in his bed, he couldn’t say he was surprised. Pushing hands through his hair, he sighed. Looking over at his clock revealed that he had woken thirty minutes before his alarm went off. Getting out of bed, he frowned at the scattering of jewelry that had been left at the foot of it. Gold and mint-colored bangles. Those fucking cat-faced stockings.
He debated what he should even do with them while he went for a run. Throwing them away seemed rude, even though it was unlikely he would ever see her again. He could dump the horde in the guest room… to forget about and have one of his sisters ask prying questions about later.
In the end, he picked everything she had carelessly left behind off the floor and dropped it into a box that he promptly shoved into the back of his closet, until he could come up with a better plan. He took a shower, took his medication and brushed his teeth. He got dressed for work and made coffee while he tried to decide if he wanted to make breakfast.
He settled for picking up something greasy and disgusting on his way to work, sipping black coffee from a thermos and ignoring the drone of calls coming through his radio.
When he walked into the office balancing coffee and paperwork and a come kind of bacon and egg bagel thing, he didn’t even make it to his desk before Lieutenant Harding was cutting into his path.
“Crawford,” she said, the one word clipped and she didn’t look happy.
He took a step to the side to try and move around her, but she only followed. His brow furrowed.
“Harding.”
“What the hell was the report you submitted last night?” she asked, and he grimaced. No doubt she was referencing the one that ‘Dean’ had walked in on.
“There was an incident,” he replied as if that were an actual answer to her question. He successfully dated around her, and started unloading his armful of items.
“Was that incident the civilian you left the scene with?”
He sat down at his desk, as she turned to face him, so she could properly loom over him as she grilled him. “No,” he said, logging into his computer. “Well, actually maybe. She was…several incidents at once,” he said, still explaining absolutely nothing.
“File a new report,” Lace commanded, and he nodded, watching as she walked away to her own office. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, sipping coffee and glaring at his monitor. When his phone started to ring from where it lay on a pile of paperwork, he turned the intensity of his glare upon it. Not recognizing the string of numbers that appeared on the screen, he picked it up with a greeting that was more of a growl.
“My card has been what?” he asked, after a few moments of silent listening. “No. I didn’t but…where did you say it was being used? Yes, a hold is fine. I will take care of it. Thank you.”
Hanging up the phone, he grabbed his coffee and his bagel concoction, easily forgetting about the report he was supposed to be rewriting or the case he was supposed to be solving. Not even sure if he had a plan of action, or why he was acting in the first place.
Something about that woman had gotten to him.
He debated what he should even do with them while he went for a run. Throwing them away seemed rude, even though it was unlikely he would ever see her again. He could dump the horde in the guest room… to forget about and have one of his sisters ask prying questions about later.
In the end, he picked everything she had carelessly left behind off the floor and dropped it into a box that he promptly shoved into the back of his closet, until he could come up with a better plan. He took a shower, took his medication and brushed his teeth. He got dressed for work and made coffee while he tried to decide if he wanted to make breakfast.
He settled for picking up something greasy and disgusting on his way to work, sipping black coffee from a thermos and ignoring the drone of calls coming through his radio.
When he walked into the office balancing coffee and paperwork and a come kind of bacon and egg bagel thing, he didn’t even make it to his desk before Lieutenant Harding was cutting into his path.
“Crawford,” she said, the one word clipped and she didn’t look happy.
He took a step to the side to try and move around her, but she only followed. His brow furrowed.
“Harding.”
“What the hell was the report you submitted last night?” she asked, and he grimaced. No doubt she was referencing the one that ‘Dean’ had walked in on.
“There was an incident,” he replied as if that were an actual answer to her question. He successfully dated around her, and started unloading his armful of items.
“Was that incident the civilian you left the scene with?”
He sat down at his desk, as she turned to face him, so she could properly loom over him as she grilled him. “No,” he said, logging into his computer. “Well, actually maybe. She was…several incidents at once,” he said, still explaining absolutely nothing.
“File a new report,” Lace commanded, and he nodded, watching as she walked away to her own office. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, sipping coffee and glaring at his monitor. When his phone started to ring from where it lay on a pile of paperwork, he turned the intensity of his glare upon it. Not recognizing the string of numbers that appeared on the screen, he picked it up with a greeting that was more of a growl.
“My card has been what?” he asked, after a few moments of silent listening. “No. I didn’t but…where did you say it was being used? Yes, a hold is fine. I will take care of it. Thank you.”
Hanging up the phone, he grabbed his coffee and his bagel concoction, easily forgetting about the report he was supposed to be rewriting or the case he was supposed to be solving. Not even sure if he had a plan of action, or why he was acting in the first place.
Something about that woman had gotten to him.
The following 1 user Likes megs's post: Tindome
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RE: Do Not Cross [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-19-2021, 12:25 AM