Nothing tired MacArthur out quite like paperwork shifts at the station. While the other cops got to patrol the streets, she was stuck in a creaky office chair, filing and checking over the weekly police reports stacked upon an overused wooden desk. No matter how many times she did these shifts, six hours of entering data into a computer always slugged by for her.

Trudging away from her car to the front steps of her apartment, she was more than happy to leave those papers in the past. Once she found the house key dangling among the other keys on her Canadian Cadets lanyard, MacArthur sauntered inside. Flicking on the light beside the hall mirror, she took off and hung up on a hook her favorite cap. While readjusting her brunette ponytail, she decided to announce her arrival to her cadet roommate.

"Yo, Sanders. Guess who survived another paper shift?"

A few seconds without response was enough to encourage MacArthur to start a search. As she investigated the house, MacArthur ruled out the bathroom, kitchen, and Sander's bedroom as her possible locations. Finally, she noticed something move against the arm of the sofa. Tiptoeing into the living room, MacArthur found Sanders snoozing away. Instead of being in her usual uniform, she had changed into a pair of navy sweatpants and a striped tee. She had curled up against two couch pillows, one her side and the other under her head. A bowl of popcorn and the television remote was on the coffee table, leading MacArthur to assume Sanders didn't originally plan to fall asleep in front of the muted television.

"Hey," whispered MacArthur, testing how deeply she was asleep. "Hey, Sanders. I'm home from work. Wakey, wakey princess."

Though Sanders's leg stretched out a few inches, her eyes remained closed and her breathing pattern stayed consistent.

MacArthur shook her head with an understanding grin on her face. "Probably shoulda slept in later today after having three night shifts in a row."

Knowing Sanders wasn't waking any time soon and that she wanted to watch some television, MacArthur gently wrapped her arms around Sanders and scooped her off the couch. Holding her bridal style, she began to slowly meander from the living room to Sanders's bedroom. As she carried her partner through the apartment complex, she noticed the faint smell of gardenia shampoo coming from Sanders's hair. Forgetting how cuddly Sanders got while tired, MacArthur felt herself blush as Sanders's head snuggled up against her shoulder and her lips murmured an inaudible phrase against the bare skin of MacArthur's neck.

Entering the bedroom, MacArthur walked up to the left side of the bed. While supporting Sanders weight against her, she used one hand to place the pillows aligning the headboard flat against the covers. Aside from having to wiggle Sanders's hand loose from her collar, MacArthur was able to lay the dreaming cadet down, assuring her head cradled the pillows. Sanders curled up against the sheets, faintly smiling against the pillows.

"Nailed it," MacArthur quietly congratulated herself, proud she didn't disturb Sanders from her slumber. MacArthur rested a throw blanket atop Sanders and softly left a kiss upon her warm forehead.

"Sleep tight, Sanders." With that, MacArthur exited the bedroom and closed its door.