Chapter 9

Chandler walked through the market replaying the day's events. He wasn't 100% sure where it went wrong or if it was an entirely wrong day. But he was sure most of the days ills had to do with Vivi Basen, or at least involved her. He began to wonder how often his days ahead would end with thoughts of her.

Joe had been walking the market for almost 10 minutes and had managed nothing more in his basket than a jar of olives. He had considered giving up his attempt tonight and reheat what he had yesterday when he figured he would make a vegetarian meal and headed towards the produce. When he turned the corner and saw her. Vivi Basen was standing in the middle of the produce section in front of a pile of grapefruit. Her hand rested on a package of a kumquats to the left of the fruit. She wasn't looking at either however, Chandler noted, her eyes were focused on a tall gentleman in front of the butcher counter waiting his turn. He was stealing glances back over his shoulder in her direction.

Chandler walked up to her, "Kumquats," he said.

Vivi spun around, taken by surprise, "What the-"

"Your hand," he explained. "You seem to be fingering the kumquats." She looked down at her hands and realized what he was talking about. She moved her hands.

"I wasn't really interested in the produce." She said, shaking her head then looking back to the counter.

"Do you normally come into the market not to shop?"

"I do a little shopping." She smirked and looked over at the butcher counter again.

"Do you know that man?" Vivi looked at Chandler incredulously.

"No," she said shaking her head. "I don't think we are playing for the same team, or more to the point we play for the same team." It was Chandler's turn to look confused.

"Choose your sports metaphor. However you slice it I don't think he is interested in what I have to offer. You may be more his speed." She explained smiling.

"Similar to DSI's interest in you?" Vivi narrowed her eyes at Chandler for the second time that day.

"You know, that shouldn't have happened." She looked around, if Chandler hadn't known better he would have thought she was embarrassed. "My obligations shouldn't reflect on the team."

"What exactly are your obligations?"

She smiled widely, she was tempted to walk away. She wasn't quite comfortable enough with him yet to give that much information about herself. Additionally she didn't feel in necessary to saddle him with her burdens.

Instead she asked, "Is that what you are eating tonight?" looking at the jar of olives in his basket.

"Yes well," he was a little embarrassed and unsure how to explain he was unable to shop because he was thinking of her.

"You'll need to try my Cajun menu." He smiled at her quizzically.

"We'll do this," she took him around the market picking up various items then ended back at his apartment. She worked around the immaculate kitchen while he followed closely behind cleaning anything she put down. She managed to shoo him out of the kitchen when she finally became too tired of having to retrieve yet another ingredient that Chandler had put away.

Chandler walked around feeling almost like a stranger in his own home. He wasn't completely sure how she managed to talk her way back to his apartment and now she was monopolizing his kitchen and refusing him access. He busied himself with setting the table and straightening this and that. He picked up her jacket that she thrown casually over his chair her phone fell out of the pocket. He picked it up and noted the display. The screen was filled with inquiries as to where she was. The originated phone number looked familiar but he was unsure where he had seen it. Curiosity got the best of him and he checked the messages on her phone. Most were one line, and there were only 3 different numbers from what he saw, most if not all were inquires on her were abouts.

"Here," she walked into the dining room with only one plate. He slipped her phone in his pocket.

"You're not eating?"

"I nibble while cooking, one of the perks."

"I can't eat while you stare at me," he complained.

"Well one, you are attractive but not that attractive that I would sit here the entire time staring at you." She put her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands and staring at him while she said this. She added a heavy sigh.

"Vivi."

"Fine, I'll get a plate and we will have conversation," She walked back into the kitchen grabbed a plate and joined him in the meal she had prepared.

"I do have a question for you however?"

"I'll answer but you must answer one for me."

"Sure," she said without much conviction. "Who told Stevens' you left me at the scene?"

"I guess I assumed you did." He answered matter of factly.

"I don't need others to fight my battles," she explained.

"Yes, I know that." He looked across the table at her and wondered again how tonight had happened. Not many people made their way into his home and even less were given free rein to his house. "Why did you think he was there about you?"

"We both know the answer to that Chandler, let's not play the pretend game." They continued the dinner without mentioning it again. When finished dinner, Chandler managed to find gelato in the back of his freezer for dessert. He apologized that it wasn't as impressive as her meal.

"So," she continued her story she had started as the cleaned the dinner dishes. They sat in his living room finishing the second bottle of wine. "This guy is standing there covered in coke, $50 grand in cash in a duffle beside his bed, ugliest mother you've ever seen. And I'm thinking, 'if I can't score with him'…" He did what she was startkng to call his "I smell something bad face" a look he gave her a lot.

"Are you serious?" he asked, most of her stories sounded completely unbelievable.

"Don't people tell jokes around you? Don't you know any?" she asked teasing him again.

"They do but," he shook his head at her.

"Fine, I'll remember you have no sense of humor."

"I have one, I guess I just don't get yours," he paused. "Perhaps if I knew a little more about you?" he suggested.

She lost her smile.

"Tell me something about you that I wouldn't have guessed."

"I will if you let do something."

"What," he asked suspiciously.

"Don't worry, it won't be too awful."

"Fine, tell me," he agreed to her terms.

She thought for a moment, trying to decide what he would most likely not believe.

"I was married," she finally decided to confess.

"To a human?" he asked.

"OH! You do have a sense of humor!" she exclaimed.

"On occasion, yes. Divorced?"

"Why, do you think I'm that awful?"

"No, I just understand how difficult it can be to keep a marriage together especially in our line of work."

She nodded agreeing. "Now your turn," she said brightening up. She scooted up next to him on the couch. He was again treated to the pleasure of her soap, her brown eyes wide and staring up at him. He turned a lighter shade of pale as she reached up and placed her hands in his hair. He thought for one crazy moment she was going to kiss him, wondering briefly if it would be a pleasure or a huge mistake. She instead ruffled his hair.

"I think you look better like that," she smiled getting up from the sofa. He was confused at what just happened and stayed rooted to the spot.

"Well sir," she said putting on her jacket. "It's been a wonderful night, hope you enjoyed your dinner. And don't worry, I'm sure you can comb your hair back." She left the apartment with him still frozen on the sofa. He wasn't completely sure what just happened.

Vivi arrived home and expected what she had found. DSI Stevens was sitting in her living room. Remembering he had a key and again regretting she hadn't changed the locks after he asked for it.

"Why so late?" he asked.

"I was shopping," she said curtly and walked in to the kitchen to avoid him.

"You didn't buy anything?" He asked following her.

"Look I'm not really in the mood today." He smiled at her.

"As if you have a choice," he reached out to touch her. She pulled back away from him.

"Vivi," his tone inferred he was speaking to a child.

"Percy," she used his first name, knowing full well he hated it. It appears he was speaking to a child after all.

"I'm here to help you, you know that." He took her into his arms. She hated his condescending tone he adopted when speaking to her. She bore his touch with revolution. For what would not be the last time she regretted the decision to seek his help getting to where she was.

He walked her to the bedroom. Attrition moved her. Under any other circumstance the sex wouldn't have been entirely unpleasant, however she found no pleasure in this act with him.

He left soon after. Being along was a trend she was quickly getting used to. The floor of her bathroom had gotten the most attention of anything else in her house. Most nights you could find her on in this position, laying prone on the floor, paying penance to the porcelain god. As she drifted off to sleep on the cold tile she wondered how different her night would have been if she had stayed at Chandler's apartment.

"Dream on," her inner voice spoke up. "He wouldn't have wanted or let you to stay.