I'm usually not one for fast updates but, as it turns out, writing this chapter instead of a ten page research paper for sociology was a pretty easy decision to make.
Also, as usual, I wrote this in the middle of the night and it is thus unbeta-ed. I tried my best to eliminate any typos but at three AM I don't exactly trust my own judgement very much.
Annalise's office seems as good a place as any to have your coworker bend you over a desk. The skirt she's wearing is certainly coming in handy right now. She's not sure how they even got here, what time it is or why the hell they didn't at least do this in his office, but it doesn't matter now.
All she knows is that he's kissing her hastily, his hand in her panties, and she's ready to just tell him to stop all of this foreplay bullshit and take her right there.
That's when she wakes up.
Dreams, why must you be so cruel?
Damn that smug bastard for sneaking into her dreams.
She's disoriented, looking around in confusion when she finds she's all alone in her bed. Checking her phone, she realizes she actually woke up three minutes before her alarm was supposed to go off. She quickly disables it and sighs. A full day of classes and work will be fun on three hours of sleep. Especially considering how her subconscious keeps making her have all these thoughts that are definitely not safe for work; especially not when the object of her affection will be working alongside her.
Getting up, she walks by the kitchen on her way to the shower to find Kan already fully dressed, currently making pancakes.
She didn't even know there was any food in her fridge. Long days at the office have made her dependent on takeout.
God. How is he this perfect of a boyfriend? It's almost unfathomable to her.
"Morning," she mumbles, stretching her arms over her head. She's cranky when she's tired, and at this point she thinks not even a gallon of coffee could change her mood.
She knows how she must look, standing there in just a white tank top and panties, her hair an absolute mess. It was a long night.
"Hey," he says, momentarily putting down the spatula as he walks over to where she's leaning against the doorframe. He grabs her hips and is about to pull her in for a kiss when she pulls away.
"No no no, I'm gross," she says motioning to her disheveled appearance, "Besides, morning breath is not exactly a turn on."
He laughs, shakes his head and kisses her cheek.
"Go shower," he motions towards the bathroom, "But hurry or your chocolate chip pancakes will be cold."
She gives him a grateful smile and ducks out of the room.
Standing under the cold stream of the shower, she tries to get it together. There's no way she'll be able to face Frank today and keep her cool, not after that dream.
It's a vicious cycle. Just as she'll stop thinking about him or that kiss, or their conversation last night or hell, even the dream she had, she'll remind herself to stop thinking about all of it and it'll start all over again.
She decides to cut her shower short today and skips her usual conditioning routine, figuring nobody will care anyway.
Really, she just doesn't want to be naked and by herself with these thoughts any longer than necessary. It's dangerous territory that she'd rather not cross into.
After she's fully dressed again, going for an extra conservative look today, she walks back out into the kitchen.
Maybe it's the voice in her head telling her that Kan should be enough for her that makes her walk up behind him, still flipping pancakes, and throw her arms around him. He smells like her shampoo and it makes her giggle.
"What are you laughing at?", he asks, trying to look at her over his shoulder since her current position makes it impossible for him to turn around.
"Your hair is extra shiny today," she jokes, letting go of him so he can turn around, "Let me guess... is it TRESemmé Color Thrive?"
He chuckles as he leans in closer.
"You caught me," he murmurs as he leans in closer, "Guilty as charged."
Just before their lips meet, she pulls back.
"I think your pancakes are burning." It's not like she's lying, either. She can smell it.
"Ah well, these were the last of the batch anyway," he laughs, leans up to kiss her cheek and finally turns around to take care of the burnt pancakes. "Take a seat! Breakfast is served."
It's moments like these when she wonders how she even found this guy. She's never been good at relationships, and wasn't even looking for anything serious when she met him. He's clearly not the type for casual relationships, and she thinks she could get used to this. To having him around to laugh with, to go out for movies and food, for impromptu sleepovers after long days at the office. It feels... safe.
She could get used to having him around, she could, if it wasn't for this thing – she doesn't know what else to call it – with Frank.
The thought of ever telling Kan about any of this kills her.
"Laurel?" He's sitting across from her at the kitchen table, shoving a plate of pancakes towards her. "Here, some sugar will help with the sleep deprivation." He smiles at her.
She smiles back, takes the plate and digs in.
Damn it. Even his pancakes are perfect.
A bit too sweet for her taste, maybe, but then again, that seems to apply to everything he does nowadays anyway, according to her.
...
Instead of getting the relaxed morning in class she was looking forward to, Bonnie interrupts class and they go straight to the office. Apparently this death row case can't wait.
She's not sure whether or not to be happy about this development.
The way she's looking at it is on a risk vs. reward basis – the risk of running into Frank at the house is about a million times greater than it would be at school and she's not sure if the reward, namely her being unable to focus on anything else around them, is worth it.
They're going through files, reading the case file from the trial in 1993. Wes is mysteriously MIA, and the others make some cracks about it, but she's not really listening. She hasn't seen Frank yet so she thinks her day is going okay so far.
Except every time she hears a door in the house open or close she wonders if it's him, if he'll just walk into the room now and make her lose the rest of her already limited concentration on this case.
They don't run into each other until she finally goes to get more coffee (her eyes are barely even open at this point) from the kitchen and he just walks up behind her.
She heard him approach so she's looking down at the coffee pouring into her cup on purpose to avoid eye contact.
"There you are," he singsongs, walking around her and leaning in closer. "I thought you might be avoiding me."
She thinks that's a pretty rich accusation considering he hasn't even been at the house all morning.
"You were the one out of the office all day." She figures she might as well say it. "Is Annalise having you do some spy work?"
He walks back over to where she's standing, empty coffee mug in hand. She feels silly for noticing that apparently that's his mug – it's the one he always uses and one time she took it, just to see what he would do and he basically stared her down in the kitchen until she gave it back and, yeah, maybe she's reading too much into everything when it comes to him. (Still, hearing him say that "being Frank's girl doesn't mean you get to use Frank's mug" is still something she thinks about sometimes because, yeah, the fact that he called her that himself was kind of hot.)
"What kind of spy would I be if I told you what I was doing?"
He gives her a cocky grin and she moves back a few steps because she doesn't really want to have to smell him right now – the smell triggers memories of last night that she'd rather not think about at the moment.
He grabs the coffee pot and pours some into his mug.
"Oh, c'mon," he says, and it's already too lazy and casual of a remark for him to not mention what she's been trying not to think about all day – she can sense that he will. "Afraid you'll kiss me again if we get too close?"
Yes. She is. That is absolutely right.
But of course she can't say that.
She shakes her head in pretend disbelief, licks her lips and tries to think of something smart to say. She's hoping law school will help her with this whole thinking on your feet thing over the next few years because she's pretty awful at it.
"I think it was the other way around, actually."
She reaches for a spoon at the same time as he reaches for the sugar, their arms barely brushing.
God, she can't deal with this sexual tension on so little sleep.
"We'll call it mutual, how's that?" That grin is back on his face again and once again she feels the urge to slap it away. (or kiss him to make sure he has no opportunity to look so smug)
"We'll call it never happening again, how's that?"
She stirs her coffee, determined to end this conversation now.
The tension is too much to handle before her third cup of coffee.
Their eyes meet, and she's sure he'd lean in and kiss her if Bonnie didn't choose that moment to conveniently walk into the room.
She's not sure whether she's glad about that or not, but she definitely takes the out the other woman is offering her, leaving the room and going back to the file she was reading.
She really can't deal with this today, on top of everything else. It makes her feel a bit guilty and selfish that a man is about to be killed for a crime he didn't commit and yet here she is, flirting with Frank when she should be reading up on the case.
Picking up the file at her desk, she sighs.
Asher notices immediately.
"You know, you look tired today," he murmurs, and she still doesn't know where he gets all that self-confidence from. It must be a rich boy thing because she doesn't consider him particularly smart or attractive. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had a long night. Trouble in paradise? Did that legal aid guy find out you're spending your hours here with Mr. I-sleep-with-the-students?"
She gives him the bitchiest glare she can muster.
"Shouldn't you be off to talk to daddy Millstone? Maybe that way you'd actually have something to contribute to this team, for once."
That does the trick and before she knows it, he's stormed out of the room.
They're not friends, she knows that, but for a split second when Michaela looks up from the file she's reading and grins at her, she thinks they could be.
...
Of course destiny makes sure that today of all days is the day they stay at the office way, way late to dig up everything they possibly can on the sketchy senator supposedly responsible for all of this.
She's lost count of the cups of coffee she's had, but she can hear the blood pumping in her veins, so she'd say it must've been a lot.
They're all a bit worn down by now – she knows they must look frantic. She's pulled her hair back in a messy pony tail and after getting overheated from sleep deprivation, she's taken off her cardigan, leaving her in just a sleeveless black top.
After another hour or so, she notices that everyone else around her has drifted off. She's fighting sleep herself, it's almost three in the morning after all, but she's determined to find something to help this guy out.
She sees Frank walk in and briefly looks around to make sure everybody else is asleep before following him. She catches him just as he's opening the front door.
"Little late to go out, isn't it?"
Even at this time of day, he keeps his cool.
"Worried about me now?" The smug grin is back. "That's cute."
She's curious, though. No one really knows why he's a part of his team, and she's noticed that he's usually the one running these little special errands for Annalise.
She walks right up to him, stopping only a few inches away from his face.
"You're looking for Rebecca, right?"
He makes some snide comment about Wes putting her up to this.
"Maybe Rebecca's our client and I'm just curious as to what is going on with her."
He doesn't buy it.
"Nice try."
Before she gets the chance to respond, he winks at her – actually winks at her! - and leaves the house.
She turns around, about to go back to the pile of papers she's going through, when she sees Bonnie leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, giving her a look of disapproval.
"With me. Now."
It doesn't sound like she has a choice. She feels like she did back in high school when she got in trouble for talking in class and the teacher would call her out on it. Adrenaline immediately shoots through her veins, waking her up a bit more.
It becomes pretty imminent what this is about when they get to the kitchen and Bonnie crosses her arms in front of her chest.
"Stop leading Frank on."
Of course she tries to deny it. After all, who wouldn't?
"What? Frank and I are just-" That's as far as she gets before Bonnie interrupts her.
"Don't, Laurel. I see the way you look at him. More importantly, I see the way he looks at you."
She's not sure what to say about all of this. Why does Bonnie even care? If this was about keeping it professional, surely the woman would've just told Annalise and gotten Laurel fired already.
"And let's be honest – it's not Frank a rich girl like you ends up with, is it? And you know that. Hell, that's the fun in it for you."
Now she can't keep quiet any longer. Bonnie is throwing accusations of her that she's never even thought about. Hell, until yesterday all of this had been harmless flirtation, and she's sure Frank is not stupid enough to think this will lead to something more serious.
"No, that's-" not true, she wants to say but Bonnie won't let her.
"But what sucks is, Frank doesn't know that. That you're just leading him on, letting him believe he has a shot with you and when he finds out he doesn't, that's going to hurt him."
She's so confused.
"You're becoming a real asset to this team. I would hate for Annalise to find out you were screwing with someone she considers family."
Is she threatening her now? She's not sure how to respond to that. They share a look, and finally Laurel decides to just leave the room.
Back at her desk, she reaches for her phone, which is buried under a stack of files.
After quickly reassuring Kan that, yes, she's alive and well and hasn't been kidnapped, she clicks on the conversation she had with Frank last night and types out a text.
'Why exactly is Bonnie telling me to stop leading you on now? Please don't tell me you two are having some twisted affair.'
It only takes him a minute to reply, so his secret mission can't be all that exciting.
'While I love the jealous undertone of that text, I sadly have to disappoint you. Who knows what her motives are – Bon just likes putting people in their place sometimes. .'
There's a reason she's not a big texter. She can't read sarcasm and subtext well. Finally, looking at the others passed out in their respective makeshift workspace, she decides it's high time to head home for five hours of well deserved sleep before they go to court tomorrow.
...
When she knows Bonnie is lurking around the corner somewhere the next day, she tells him she's not into him.
She thinks some part of her, deep down, might even mean it. Because it would just be much easier like that.
The twinkle in his eye tells her he's not really buying any of this, but that's besides the point, because now she's said it out loud and can always reference this moment as proof that she at least tried. It's the law student in her that makes her think about it that way. It's an alibi of sorts, an out she could potentially take.
He walks away from her, seemingly hurt and angry, and she wants to applaud him for that acting job. He's good. She's not even sure all of that was fake. It might just be that he never, ever gets turned down. The thought of taking his giant ego down a notch is oddly pleasant.
She's not surprised in the least when she gets a text from him a few minutes later.
'That was some Oscar-worthy acting. I bet Bonnie will love that'
Part of her is mad that he can see right through her like that, because she'd like to think she was very convincing. And she really doesn't want to give Bonnie any more reason to corner her like that again. That woman is terrifying.
'Very funny. Just stay away from me, at least at the office.'
(Is it just her or does that sound like an indirect invitation to come see her outside of work? God, she must be going crazy.)
She makes an effort to stop this texting affair they've got going on, goes back to work and doesn't check her phone again until later that night, after Kan picks her up from work and takes her out to dinner.
'I'll try... though fate might have other plans.' is all his reply says. She chokes on her wine as she reads it, partly because she thinks his confidence is hilarious but also because that just sounded way too over the top. But she knows he'd have no issue saying that to her face, and just the thought of him delivering that terrible line with a smug look on his face gets her a little too excited. This whole overconfidence thing is oddly attractive on him.
"Everything okay?" Kan asks, always the gentleman and she quickly nods, taking a big gulp of water to calm her throat down again.
He takes her hand into his across the table and smiles at her and she feels bile rising in her throat. Kan really doesn't deserve any of this.
Silently, she vows to try harder to be a better girlfriend to him, to put in as much effort as he is.
But then again, she's never been good at lying, not even to herself.
