A Note From Lara: I know. I'm awful. I've been neglecting my FFN duties. I continue to promise more of the Dianne Saga soon. I've just been procrastinating. For Whom The Bell Tolls sucked me in and wouldn't let me go, and with college applications and all that insanity... there will be a new chapter soon. Promise. Meanwhile- Pemma!
Peter had already inserted the key into the lock on his apartment door when he hesitated, realizing something. His sudden thought must have shown on his face, because Emma put a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I just remembered how weird my apartment is..."
Emma gave him a reassuring look. "It's fine."
She might say that now... Peter unlocked the door and pushed the door open, revealing his shockingly bare apartment. He grimaced as he looked around. A folding card table in the kitchen. Two mismatched chairs and a rusting stool that looked ready to collapse. A pair of lamps. The mattress in his bedroom and the little table upon which his alarm clock and police scanner rested.
To her extreme credit, Emma hardly even looked like the empty apartment affected her. There was little more than a raised eyebrow to betray her surprise. Peter found himself trying to explain the emptiness anyway.
"It's just... well, it seems like nothing in my life is permanent anymore. And so after... well, it's a long story, but the government was tracking down people like us, and when I finally was able to come home and I got my job back, I just felt like... why waste the furniture on me? I don't need it. So I sold most of my stuff and--"
Emma, though, was shaking her head and grinning slightly. "It's okay," she reassured him again. "I completely understand."
Breathing a slight sigh of relief, Peter smiled back at her. God, she was wonderful... He was seized, not for the first time, by the temptation to kiss her.
"So, you said you had an article...?"
Shaking his mind away from his improper daydream, Peter nodded. "Yeah. I've got a box of stuff..."
