A/N: A little lower-key chapter for you this week--a bit of a break from the more emotional ones we've had lately. This is just a little fun for Tim and Allyson, a little show of comraderie between the two of them as they continue to move past the whole victim-investigator relationship. Enjoy :-)
Allyson popped the trunk of her car, reaching inside and gathering some of the many grocery bags contained inside. As she reappeared, arms full, a khaki colored Hummer pulled to a stop in front of the townhouse. Recognizing the MDPD shield painted on the door, she smiled.
"I thought you weren't an early riser," Tim called walking up the driveway. "But here you've already been grocery shopping and it's only eight o'clock in the morning."
"I'm trying to get back into my regular sleep cycle," she told him, allowing him to take some of the bags she carried and noting with satisfaction the black cord around his neck peeking out from under his shirt collar. "I'm finally going back to work next week, and I start at 6:45."
He winced, following her through the front door and into the kitchen. "Ouch."
"Tell me about it," she agreed. "So I figured I'd better start adjusting now."
"Well, you should have told me you were shopping this morning…I could have taken you in the Hummer," he winked.
She chuckled at that. "I'm sure that would go over well with your boss." She set down the bags she was carrying, motioning for Tim to leave his as well, and headed out to the car for round two. "Why do you have it this morning anyway? You usually take the bike to work."
"I went in early to take care of a few things before I came over here," he told her.
She nodded, trudging up the front stairs one more time. "That explains the gun and the badge," she observed.
He nodded. "I'm on call this morning." He adjusted the bags he was carrying and hauled them into Amanda's kitchen, setting them on the floor where there was room. "I haven't had the gun around you much, have I?"
She began unpacking, putting the perishable items into Amanda's refrigerator and freezer. "No, I guess not," she replied, searching her memory. "Just when you've been on duty."
He helped her put away the groceries, holding up items and waiting for her to point to the correct cabinet as he spoke. "Does it bother you? I mean, having it here?"
She stretched up to put a box of cereal on top of the fridge, shaking her head. "No—firearms don't bother me. My father's a hunter, and he always kept his rifles in the house. Of course," she added with a smile, "they were in a closet on a shelf that, to this day, I can't reach, and I was forbidden to even go near them."
"So you never fired one?" he asked curiously.
"Nope. My dad's a good man, but he's old school…has a bit of a gender bias sometimes, particularly when it comes to his little girl. He always told me hunting was for boys."
Tim stopped moving a moment and looked at her. "I bet that went over well."
"It bugged me a little," she answered. "But if I had really been interested, I could have talked Dad into taking me with him. When I got older I did think that maybe I should learn how to use the rifles safely, you know, just in case I needed to."
He nodded, reaching for another bag. "Makes sense." He put away a few more items, turning a thought over in his mind before speaking again. "What about now?"
This time Allyson paused and turned to him. "What do you mean?"
"Well," he replied, taking in a breath and blowing it out, "maybe it's not a bad idea for you to get used to handling my service pistol if I'm going to have it around you…just in case."
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," she echoed. "As long as you won't get in trouble for it."
"No," he shook his head. "I can't take you to the Department firing range, but we can go to a public range no problem."
"Sounds good," she replied. "Just let me know when."
"I'm off Thursday—how's that?"
She thought back over her mental calendar for any commitments on that day. "Thursday works. The only thing I have to do is take my parents to the airport at ten that morning."
"Good, then we can go in the afternoon," he told her with a twinkle in his eyes, "because I am not getting up at the crack of dawn on my day off."
She chuckled. "No problem, Sleeping Beauty."
When the last can of tuna was tucked safely away in the cupboard, the pair hunted down Allyson's purse and keys again and headed back out to the driveway. Climbing into the passenger side of the Hummer, she pulled out a slip of paper with directions written on it, pointing out the way as they drove along.
"So the Realtor has how many houses for you to look at today?" he asked.
"Three," she answered. "Two of them are exactly in my price range, and on is a little more expensive than I wanted to go, but she insisted I at least look at it."
"Trying to get a bigger commission," Tim muttered.
Allyson nodded briefly. "Maybe, but if she can sell my little house then she'll be worth it."
"Any prospects yet?"
She shook her head. "No one's really in a hurry to buy a house where someone almost died." There was a long moment of silence between the two before she spoke again. "She did say something about a developer friend of hers who is always looking for property. He buys vacant lots or ones with little houses and builds big ones to sell to the rich and famous."
"So he wouldn't be interested in the house anyway, just the land underneath it," Tim added.
"Right." Another quiet moment passed as the good memories of Allyson's little house paraded through her mind, bringing a slightly sad look to her face at the prospect of it being destroyed.
He caught her expression in his peripheral vision and reached for her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, we're going to find you a great new house, where you're going to have some great memories," he told her. "I promise."
"I know," she sighed. "That was just my first house, you know? I saved up for the down payment the whole first year I lived down here and scraped together the fee for the Realtor, which wasn't easy on a teacher's salary…"
"We don't work for the county to get rich," he agreed. "But now you've been here a few years, gotten some seniority, a better salary…we'll find you a house that you'll love just as much as your first one."
They drove along a few more minutes in comfortable silence until they found the right street. Allyson checked the numbers on the slip of paper against the numbers posted on each house and pointed him to the correct driveway. "Here's our first candidate."
They pulled up and came to a stop in front of the large garage, noting that the Realtor had already arrived and opened up the house. Climbing out of the Hummer, both Tim and Allyson gave the outside the once-over.
"Siding's new," Tim commented. "And it's bigger than yours."
She nodded, her eyes sweeping over the second story. "The roof looks new, too. That's good."
The pair studied the house a moment longer before heading up the front steps and into the entryway, meeting the Realtor. She gave them the grand tour, leading Allyson and Tim around the house pointing out closets and storage spaces, upgrades the previous owners had made, and features she thought might interest Allyson, answering questions as they moved. When they returned to the entryway, the Realtor excused herself to her car, giving her client some time alone with the house.
Allyson turned to Tim, her eyes trained on him as she tried read his expression. "What do you think?"
"It's a nice house," he replied.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "But?"
He shrugged. "It doesn't seem to fit you." She eyed him further and he felt compelled to explain himself. "It's… Don't take this the wrong way, but it's too upscale for you."
"Too upscale?"
He frowned. "Yeah—the elaborate molding in all the rooms, the chandelier in the dining room, the polished wood floors… I just can't see you living here."
She smiled slyly at his words. "I was thinking the same thing…I just wanted to hear you agree with me. Let's go see the next one."
Back into the Hummer they went, following the Realtor through town to the next house on the list. This one was a single story brick number with a big bay window in the front and a small garage on the left-hand side. A strip of tilled dirt meandered across the front of the house, home to several colorful flowering plants and edged in sleek black vinyl.
Tim saw the smile that crept across Allyson's face as she exited the Hummer, noticed her eyes light up as she took in every detail, and found himself smiling along with her. Brushing a hand over the small of her back, he escorted her to the front door, holding it open for her when she stepped inside. "This one's a little more promising."
"Oh yeah," she answered, her gaze traveling around the living room.
The Realtor again showed them around the house, leading them from the living room to the kitchen, pointing out the new cabinets and appliances. "It's not as big as the kitchen in the other house, but it's situated in such a way that it's really easy to get to everything. Do you do a lot of cooking?"
Allyson nodded. "When I have the time…and somebody to cook for," she replied, glancing at Tim. "Cooking for just me isn't as much fun."
He had a momentary vision of Allyson bustling around the kitchen, reprimanding him for stealing a piece of whatever she was making. "Hey, anytime you need an audience let me know—I'm a big fan of food."
She chuckled, following the Realtor out of the kitchen and down the short hallway to the bedrooms and bathroom. "Not audience," she corrected with mock sternness, "accomplice. You're going to help." He raised an eyebrow at her and she flashed him a smile, checking out the bathroom and the first of the two bedrooms. "This is the guest room? It's bigger than my master bedroom."
"This is the second bedroom, yes," the Realtor answered. "And across the hall here is the master…" She led the pair into the other bedroom, pointing as she spoke. "You can see the two closets, there—they're absolutely enormous. The owner was actually going to turn one of them into a second bathroom, but never quite got around to it."
Allyson entered the room, her eyes roving over every surface and stopping at the two windows on adjoining walls. The Realtor noticed her studying them and began explaining. "Those windows were something else the owner was going to change. I know they're rather small, but—"
"No, they're fine," Allyson stopped her. "I love the big window in the living room, but I'm not a big fan of people being able to look into my bedroom."
The Realtor breathed a sigh of relief, oblivious to the way Tim's hand went to Allyson's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Then these are perfect for you."
The three discussed the room a few minutes more, then headed back into the living room. As Allyson moved down the hallway she tried to picture herself walking the same path every morning, ducking into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and carrying it into the living room to catch the morning news while she got ready for work. She imagined her furniture, her photos and knickknacks, her television and stereo, her books on their shelves, adorning the room. She envisioned herself parked in the middle of the floor putting together her latest electronic purchase, fumbling with the instruction manual while Tim turned the item over quizzically beside her.
"This is it," she decided. "This is the one I want to buy."
The Realtor looked at Allyson, about to ask her if she wanted to see the other house they had lined up, but caught sight of the expression on her face and stopped short. "Feels like home, doesn't it?"
"Feels like it will be home," she amended. "Once I have a chance to make it mine."
"That's what you're looking for," the Realtor nodded approvingly. "Let's talk about the next steps…"