Peace lived in the sunshine, her thoughts free to flow about the breeze. As soon as Spring got warm enough, Jane spent time most days running outside. Each route she took offered different escapes: trees, architectures, the early buds of flowers.
Cold rain provided cleansing, her stresses washing off in rivulets tinged with salt. Some days she took an extra lap past the apartment, needing a bit more time to rearrange her headspace. Once she'd picked up the pieces and found the sun, she'd go home to a warm shower.
When she ran in the morning, her husband had often fixed her breakfast by the time she emerged. This morning, coffee and peanut buttered rice cakes were waiting for her. "Thank you," she shared, kissing his temple and sitting beside him at the breakfast bar.
She devoured the rice cakes, hit with a bout of runger. Kurt smiled, glad to bring her joy through the simple act of making her food. "You know, I've been thinking about something," he shared.
After a sip of her coffee, she asked, "What's that?"
His hand brushed her knee. "Seeing you out running now that it's nice enough - I want to get back in better shape."
She didn't have any complaints, yet she supposed that wasn't for her to decide. If that's what he wanted, she would offer encouragement. "Want to run the Bureau 10K with me?"
He considered the prospect. "Sure."
She provided additional incentive. "It's really refreshing out now, and we can get our runs together back."
Thinking of another aspect, he tickled her side. "I'll race ya."
Her smirk carried to her eyes, meeting his. "There's no way you're beating me."
He grinned in return. "We'll see."
Starting more consistent running was…difficult. It was an experience Kurt had been through several times before, yet his legs were freshly sore again and his mind attempted to convince him he couldn't possibly run another half mile. He didn't know how far they would be running, and he was curious how much he had signed up for. Lacing his sneakers near the door, he asked, "Is there a plan of how many miles to run every day?"
Jane shrugged. "I try to keep it ad hoc. We'll keep upping a long run on the weekend, yet the rest can be based on how we feel."
He tended to like a little bit more of a plan. "I want to know what I'm getting into."
Grabbing her phone from the counter, she held it out to him. "You can look at my Strava history."
He took the phone, skimming through the activities. "You went running when we were on that mission in Argentina?"
"I thought you were looking at distance." His eyebrow raise foretold she wasn't getting out of the conversation that easily. "I run everywhere, Kurt."
Typical run length gauged, he handed the phone back. "Maybe not the best idea."
She swatted his backside, annoyed he was messing with her runs; her sanity. "I can kick your ass - I sure as hell can kick someone else's if I have to."
"No." He shook his head, her train of thought different than what he meant. "You could be revealing your location."
Dammit, she just wanted to get out the door. "I have everything marked private. And it alerts you if I don't come back." Sure, give him something else to worry about.
He shrugged. "Consider talking to Patterson about it. The company is still collecting your location and might be a security risk."
Agent Weller was talking when she was looking to spend time with husband Kurt. She couldn't fault him, as it wasn't like she had an off switch either, but she needed her time outside. "Stop. Calling nope here." She pointed at the door. "I just want to run. That's how I can even do those missions."
Their shared note for let it be voiced, he raised his hands by his side and stopped for the time being. "So how many miles today?"
"Kuuuuurt!" She shooed him out the door.
Occasionally running together on break during the workday, it didn't take long for word of their 10K preparations to make its way around the NYO. Rich wanted to corner the gossip on the subject. "Are you on Team Weller or Team Doe?" Rich asked Patterson while poring through digital evidence in the lab.
"They're the same team!" Patterson retorted.
"C'mon, this is too good an opportunity to pass up." Her eyes tore through him, imagining skewering him to the computer and gagging him so he would shut the hell up a few minutes so she could work. "Okay, I'm Team Doe, which means you're Team Weller. Prepare to pay up."
What kind of skewers: wooden, metal, lacquer? Patterson shook her head in dissent. "Rich, we're not doing this."
He pushed on, the topic too juicy to let go. "One hundred dollars. If you win, I'll stop calling you Patty Cakes."
A muzzle, maybe? No, he would enjoy that too much. "You are not going to make it through many more rounds of calling me that."
"C'mon, we need something silly to break up the shit around here."
Pounding a few keys to lock her computer, she faced him in frustration. "Why do you care so much?"
Finally having her attention, his arm movements mimed his enthusiasm. "It's my favorite tag team duo! Back and better than ever."
She couldn't argue with needing a diversion. This did hit the lower end of the Rich annoyingness scale; perhaps the punishment could be saved for later. Tipping her finger at his face, she bartered, "One hundred dollars to charity of choice, you drop the name, and silence in my lab for a week."
Mind shouting yes, yes, yes, yes!, his face remained stern. "Fine. Deal."
They shook on it and returned to pattering away on their keyboards.
There were some days running wasn't particularly appealing. Kurt stayed burrowed under the comforter, bundled up over his head. "Kurt, I'm ready to go," Jane explained, putting her hand on what she assumed was his shoulder.
Grumbles from within were muffled by the blankets. "Don't want to."
The previous night, he had brought out the scotch after a particularly tough day arguing with a grating suspect in interrogation for hours. She had given him his space, opting to sketch in the living room while he sulked in the den. It was late and she was already sleeping when he had retired to bed, sliding in beside her. "Because you drank too much yesterday?"
He had spent more time thinking than drinking. "No."
She took the covers off of his head. "Then let's go. This'll help you feel better."
His pouty frown inspired laughter instead of retreat. She shared a stare of her own, her legs restless to get going. "You want to win, remember? Pot's up over a thousand for charity."
His eyes focused on her face, tracing from her brow to along her jaw. "That's the look you give uncooperative suspects."
Resting her hands on her hips, she shifted her weight to one leg. "Seems to fit the bill."
"Oh, I'm gonna." He swung out of bed and chased her across the room.
She threw his shorts, shirt, and socks at him before getting caught in his tickling embrace. "Put those on - let's go."
By the time they made it to their cool down, he shared his words of thanks for dragging him out, and when she had cleaned up for breakfast, a jelly smiley face was waiting for her on top of peanut buttered rice cakes.
On the weekend, they ran deep into the park following the sweet scent of lilac. Many bushes were at or near bloom, and she looked for signs of other flowers perking while they ran, smiling anew with each different one encountered. Jane came out the other side of the park scratching her stomach and back over her shirt. Why did running come with unintended consequences?
"What is it?" Kurt asked, eyeing her discomfort.
She kept rubbing at her shirt. "I think I'm allergic to something on the route."
His attention drew more to her than the route in front of them. "Do you want to stop?"
That was an easy head shake. "No - I'll take Benadryl when I get home."
Her fingernails dug into her shirt. "Stop scratching."
"Easy for you to say."
When they got home, the shower jets cooled the pink bumps that had emerged in patches on her skin. Slathering what she could reach in hydrocortisone and taking Benadryl, she tucked in for an early afternoon nap. Perhaps that would bring her more relaxing headspace than the day's run. So much for the flowers.
What had started as Jane's low key entry to the Bureau 10K was turning into quite the todo. Their whole team had contributed to the pot, investing in their success. When Jane stayed in the lab to review a few findings from Rich, he asked, "Does my Janie need any help with training? Nutrition, massage..."
Could he be any more annoying? Well, yes, yes he could. She shook her head and kept her attention on the papers in front of her. "Rich, you're gonna lose your head."
"This is a high stakes game! I'm close to adding over unders on your race times."
Oh gosh, enough. She was glad their friendly competition would turn into a big win for a local organization, yet there were still a few months until the race. For the time being, finishing up at the lab would mean she could go home to the oatmeal bath calling her name. "Peace and quiet. That's what I need."
Pssh, why did everyone want the lab to be quiet? Electric energy helped him think. He bowed to her. "Your wish is my command, milady."
Her glare drove him from the room.