A Matter of Perspective

Like a Book

This ended up a little shorter than I wanted it to be but what can you do. Blaine and Liv are just the best. Especially since I really hate Major. Anyways I hope you like it.

Blaine sat on a lonely bar stool much like he had many nights previously trying to drink his problems away. It was her again of course, it was always her nowadays. He wasn't a good man, he knew that, but he always prided himself on being able to hide that fact behind the veneer of the cocky jokester that was also so much a part of him. At least as a zombie he could always could blame it on that, but now he was human again and hurting just as many people. He downed another shot and decided that he had been there long enough.

As he walked outside he felt the cold touch of the rain falling in Seattle's most recent thunderstorm. He had always loved the rain as a kid and it still brought a calming feeling to him. He sighed as he began walking back towards his car.

"Is this what you wanted dad," he muttered to himself. He decided that he was going to visit the morgue in the morning just to get whatever it was he was feeling right now off of his chest.

As he walked into the morgue the next day he was surprised to find it empty though it soon dawned on him that they were probably on some case. He decided to make himself at home while he waited for them to get back. He was surprised when only Liv walked in twenty minutes later.

"Where's the good doctor," he asked with a cheeky smile on his face.

She jumped back at the sudden outburst from the far corner.

"Didn't really picture you as the jumpy kind, I'll have to write that down," he added as she brought him into focus.

"Ha ha, you're so funny," she said sarcastically. "Now, is there a reason you're here?"

"Oh you know me," he said. "I love checking up on my two favorite morgue employees."

"Considering Ravi and I are the only ones you've met I don't feel that flattered," she said.

"You wound me," he said. "But you never answered my first question." "Where is the good doctor?"

"On a date with Peyton," she said flatly. "I told him that I could handle the morgue on my own, so he leapt at the opportunity."

"That must be weird," he said. "Your best friend and former roommate dating your boss."

"To be honest it was weirder when they were broken up," she said. "No right answers when you're in the middle of that."

"It appears we have that in common," he said. "The inability to find the right answers."

She gave him a glare that he imagined could cut glass. "Don't you dare act like our situations are anything alike." "You killed Lowell like he was nothing, just another notch to add to your criminal belt."

"Hey I have feelings too," he said.

"Why should I give a damn about your feelings," she said her voice louder than usual. He took note of how little she yelled.

"Fine," he said. "I don't even know why I came here," he continued more to himself than to her.

"Me neither," she said. "Clearly you just live to be a dick."

"Clearly," he said with a sigh. "This was a stupid idea, I should be going."

He walked out looking down at the floor; he didn't want to look at those glaring eyes any more than he had to. It wasn't supposed to go like that, he was supposed to get up her face, if she got angry then that would just enhance the possibility of getting her off of her game. Of course she read him like a book like she always seemed to be able to do and turned the tables on him.

Did he regret killing Lowell? Sure, but Lowell was aiming to see him dead so it became kill or be killed and in that moment he had acted on instinct. He supposed that that was what made her and him so different, she always thought things through. That was all well and good but it was also the kind of thinking that could get you killed really fast.

He checked his pockets for his phone and found that he had left it back at the morgue, he knew he should have never been playing around with the apps while he was waiting around. He sighed knowing that this probably would mean seeing that glare again, but he couldn't just leave his phone lying around, a business contact could call at any time. He shuttered to think what she would do if she found it ringing.

"Yeah Yeah I know I'm a dick," he said as he entered. "I just forgot my phone in here." To his surprise there was no witty comeback.

"Hey I know you're mad, but the silent treatment isn't necessary," he said. Again no answer.

He felt the presence of someone behind him but as he turned around he could already see the punch that knocked him out winding up. As he woke up he found a familiar figure standing over him, her.

"What was that for," he asked though he had a good idea.

"Sorry," she said. "Had to get that out of my system and I didn't see another opportunity coming any time soon."

"Wow," he said. "You hit hard; granted you do have the advantage of zombie strength."

"You keep telling yourself that," she said with a smirk.

"I can't believe I was actually worried about you when I walked in here," he admitted.

"Sure you were," she said. "And I'm running for President."

"I'd vote for you," he said with a smile.

Well," she said. "I'll keep that in mind."

"We need someone advocating for zombie rights," he said.

"I can't even tell if you're joking anymore," she said. "Anyways you can get your phone and get out."

"Alright," he said. He wasn't looking for another fight right now.

As he walked back out of the morgue he couldn't help but smile; she actually punched him. Maybe they weren't as different as he had first thought. Of course that was the way it always was, everything was a matter of perspective. A good man could be viewed as evil by some and the opposite could go for an evil man. There was still good in him somewhere, he just needed something or someone to bring it out of him again.