Police and Friends

Tyr woke to the sound of his longtime housekeeper fixing breakfast. That's right. She took Wednesdays off, not Tuesdays. Esperanza was a hardy woman, but gentle with those that required it. She was also an amazing cook and kept the house sparkling with cleanliness. Hearing an unfamiliar laugh coming from his kitchen, the man came fully awake. That's right, Abhaya's apartment had burned down last night. She'd had nowhere to go but his place. Wanting to make the best impression possible first thing in the morning, Tyr showered and dressed in his best heavy-lifting clothes, heading down to breakfast.

He found the girl clothed in his nightshirt and a pair of thick socks he'd given her, talking to Bethanie, their boss, on the phone. She would have looked absolutely adorable except that she was drooping into her coffee, with dark circles under her eyes. There were trails of salt down her face and overall her body language screamed that she was bone-weary. Tyr watched her with a frown, had she slept more than a few minutes last night?

"Good morning," he said to the room at large, coming to kiss his Abuela on the cheek. Looking over her latest spread as she handed him his plate with a smile, his mouth watered. A large, fluffy omelet and fried skin-on red potatoes greeted him with crispy bacon just off to the side.

"Gracias," he said happily, sitting next to his frazzled coworker at the island. "Good morning Bethanie," he told the speakerphone charmingly.

"Good morning, Tyr," the woman said a trifle breathlessly. Like most of the female population of the unit, she was not immune to his charms. "I would like to thank you on behalf of the unit for taking Abbie in after her horrible tragedy. Was anything able to be saved from the wreckage?"

"It was a total loss, Beth. Everything's gone. We're going to have to shop for all new things and save receipts for the court case."

"That's horrible! That awful woman ought to be jailed for this. It's clearly a case of negligence. So, I take it we won't be seeing you around the unit for the next month either while Abbie searches for a new apartment and gets her life back in order?"

"You don't have to-"

"No," he said forcefully with a hard look at the woman. "Don't expect me on the unit until Abhaya is back. And she already has a place to live. My basement is free and already set up as its own apartment. That may make things easier for her."

"Yes, well," Beth said uncomfortably. "I've booked Abbie off for the month to start. She has enough vacation time to cover it. After that, she'll call me to discuss her progress. Abbie, if there's anything else I can do for you, let me know right away, okay? Oh, and this is the number to call you at, right? Your cell phone?"

"Huh? Oh, yes," Abbie nodded tiredly, pulling herself out of his hypnotic gaze. "I've never added my cell phone to the list because I don't always remember I have it to answer before it goes to voicemail. But I'll obviously be checking my messages more frequently now." This last was said around a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Nightmares?" their boss asked sympathetically.

"Like you wouldn't believe," she confirmed drowsily with another yawn.

"Well, you have today off. Try and get some sleep. The shopping will keep for another day. Just remember to save the receipts. You take care of yourself, understand? And if you can, try to keep us updated on your progress. I know that you're a private person, but this is kind of a big deal."

"I will, I promise," she stretched, almost knocking over her coffee. Tyr caught the cup quickly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She looked at him sheepishly and mouthed 'I'm sorry' as Beth continued to babble sympathy into the phone.

"Beth, I'm sorry. I have a call in-coming. I'll update you when I can. Take care!" She hung up with a guilty sigh. Before she could comment on her little deception, the phone really did ring. Snatching it up and putting it on speaker phone, she answered tiredly.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Ms. Brecknor. This is Detective Whiskers; we met at the house this morning; I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself. I'd like you to come into the 84the precinct and make a statement. Apparently your landlady has been talking to the press and making accusations that you are responsible for the blaze last night. And while we know that's not true, it's best to have an official record of these things, correct?"

"Of course, Detective. What's the address and when should I be there?" She wrote the address on a notepad she'd had all morning just in case. "That'll take… I don't have the bus schedule down here so give me a minute-"

"Can't your boyfriend just bring you here?"

"Oh, he's not-"

"Yes," the male nurse answered firmly, hijacking yet another conversation. "Expect us within two hours with morning traffic being what it is," the man said, finishing his food. "May we have your number in case we're running late?" Taking the pen from the tired girl and writing the detective's number down next to the police station address, he shot her a look as he hung up. "Go get dressed, Bliss. We'll meet with the detective and then your computer expert."

"Chris might not even be-"

"You can call him on the way. You seemed pretty worked up about that computer last night. Come on, get dressed," he ordered gently. "You need sleep at some point today and you're not going to get it falling asleep over your cup of coffee."

Blushing furiously, the girl got up from the island and went downstairs to shower and dress.

"She's a good woman, mi hijo. But she's running from something. She made the coffee herself this morning." Tyr understood what the friendly woman wasn't saying. Esperanza was more than just a housekeeper. She was Abuela; grandmother, nanny, cook, confidant, disciplinarian. It was a position of trust in the household. For Abhaya to make her own anything in Esperanza's kitchen spoke to her fear and paranoia. Nevermind that it was a grave insult to the woman herself.

Just then Abhaya came into the kitchen, her stomach rumbling in complaint. She was clearly distracted at the moment, looking in her backpack for something.

"Come, eat nina. There's time for it before you go."

"There's no time, old mother. That detective is waiting for me. Maybe I'll grab something on the way to the Station," Abbie said in perfect Spanish. Two sets of eyes locked onto her in amazement and curiosity and she clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing what she'd just done. She turned to run and Tyr intercepted her, blocking her exit.

"Since when do you speak Spanish?" he asked with a smile. She didn't return it and the smile faded off his face as the silence spun out.

"I have many talents you're unaware of," she finally sighed. "We have to go. The detective is waiting-"

"Then the detective can wait," Esperanza shouted in Spanish. Both young people jumped, Abbie at the harsh words and Tyr at the tone, since he didn't understand the words. He'd rarely seen his Abuela so worked up and upset. "Abhaya, mi angelota, your body is on the verge of collapse after such a traumatic experience. You need to eat." Silence reigned in the kitchen. When Abhaya chose to break it, it was in Spanish and she chose her words carefully.

"Abuela are spies where I come from," she said carefully. Instead of being insulted, Esperanza burst out laughing. She hugged the shocked girl, running her hands down her plump arms and holding her hands tightly.

"Ah, mi pobre pez angel, someone has been abusing her position where you come from. No one is going to hurt you here, you're safe. Now, sit right here and tell me what you want to eat."

"I really have to go," she protested in Spanish.

"You'll not leave my kitchen with an empty belly," the older woman warned her in Spanish. "The sooner you decide, the sooner you can leave." Abbie thought carefully about this, weighing the old lady's words against her resolve. Seeing that the two matched perfectly, she sighed in defeat.

"I'd like what he had for breakfast, Madre vieja."

"Please, call me Abuela, pequeno, I prefer it to 'old mother'," she wrinkled her nose in distaste before winking at the nervous girl.

"Madre Sabia?" the girl tried again

"Nice try," the older woman said in English. "Pass me that dish. If you're going to eat in the car, you'll at least have something sturdy to eat off of."

"Hey, I drive nicely," Tyr said in mock indignation.

"You forget, mi hijo. I've seen you drive." The motherly woman passed over a casserole dish filled with a fluffy, cheesy omelette, skin-on potatoes, and a couple pieces of bacon. "Now you can go see your detective, angelote. See that this peacock here drives you to the station in something nondescript. That Jaguar of his attracts too much attention. Now shoo! Get out of my kitchens, ninos. I have actual work to do!" The woman shooed them out of the kitchen almost before the girl could whisper a 'thank you'.

"You'll insult her like that," he whispered against her ear. He chuckled and took her dish away from her before she could spill her breakfast on the floor. "Abuela doesn't accept thank yous from guests. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I was taught proper manners. A 'thank you' is the proper response when someone does something nice for me," she told him tartly, snatching back her food. He held on stubbornly and she relented, not wanting to spill the food.

"Then where's my 'thank you' for saving you from your coffee this morning and preventing a spill just now?"

"Thank you, Anasazi," she ground out belligerently, holding out a hand for her food. "May I please have my breakfast before it gets cold?"

"Wow, you really do know proper manners," he grinned, passing her the casserole carefully and turning to his charcoal grey Lexis. Abbie would have been impressed, but she was too busy stuffing her face. The food was much better than anything she could have picked up on her way to the station. He opened the door of his Lexis for her and she slid into her leather seat, mind still on her food. Tyr glanced over occasionally as he drove to watch her devour her breakfast. It looked like she would have licked her plate clean if she'd been alone. Afterwards she held the dish in her lap, beginning to nod off. The first stoplight they reached, he took the dish out of her limp hands and slid it into the back seat. Soon she was curled up against his arm, snoring softly. Feeling every inch her male protector, he concentrated on navigating traffic and keeping the ride smooth for his sleeping lady.

It took them an hour and a half to get through traffic and find a parking space.

"Bliss… Wake up, Bliss. It's time to go."

"Don't wanna… Comfy…" she yawned tiredly, snuggling against her pillow, which was shaking and snickering. Wait, what?

Opening her eyes, she looked up into the highly amused eyes of her chaffeur. Remembering herself, she pulled away from the man and got out of the car. Reaching back into the car to get her backpack, her hand brushed Tyr's when he handed her the bag. She shuddered as lightning shot up her spine at the contact. God, this man was bad for her heart! She went to pull away, but Tyr seemed to have other plans, gently touching her palm with two fingers. She shivered, and not from the wintry breeze in the street, and knew she was in trouble. He caressed the back of her hand just as gently with those same naughty fingers and she ripped her hand away. Relinquishing the backpack for now, she shivered and tried to rub the gooseflesh off her hand.

"Always running, lady," he said smoothly as he slid out of her side of the car with the backpack in hand. He held it out to her and she made a quick grab for it. Chuckling, he let her snatch her property away from him and started for the station. The two walked in silence, rushing to get out of the cold.

"Hey! Hey Tyr," If possible, Tyr sped up even more, all but leaving his companion behind. Abbie was struggling to keep up though, so he slowed his pace with a sigh. Now he would have to deal with his old lover.

"What do you want, Winslow?" he asked in annoyance. "And it's 'Mr. Anasazi' to you, 'reporter'."

"Aw, don't be that way," Marsha Winlsow said with a sexy grin. "After all we meant to each other, we should be on a first name-"

"What do you want, Winslow? I won't ask again," he said, pushing her questing hands away. "I'm not in the mood for your games."

"Fine. What are you doing here?" she asked, suddenly all business as she cut an eye to the frumpy-looking woman standing next to him. Whatever was happening, these two were connected and she smelled a story.

"Discovering the isle of Nunya," he said stone-faced.

"Very funny," she pouted, not about to walk into a 'none ya business' joke at her expense. "Come on, Tyr. You were seen pulling up to the scene of what Ms. Macton is practically calling an arson with the victim. And now here you are, heading into the police station with that same victim. What's the connection?"

"'The connection' is something you shouldn't be worrying about," he growled when the frumpy girl resumed her walk towards the police station. Something about that walk itched her reporter senses, but she dismissed it after a while. She'd remember if there was something important about her. Tyr followed her without another word.

"Did you set that house on fire?" she called when it became clear that he wasn't in the mood to answer questions.

"No," he threw over his shoulder as he caught up to that girl. Marsha's hazel eyes narrowed. They weren't holding hands or anything, but there was a palpable connection between the two. A new conquest perhaps? And why had he been at that house? It wasn't in a part of town she was used to seeing Barbarossa Anasazi's son in. Although it was a few blocks up from the Red Mile, Calgary's notorious celebration section of the city. Was he celebrating with that shabbily dressed girl and somehow had set the house on fire? But no, that wasn't the right angle either.

"Problem, boss?" her cameraman, Neil Gregor, asked curiously.

"Just trying to tease out a riddle," she frowned. "Everyone knows that Tyr gave up the fast life three years ago when dear old dad threatened to cut him off if he didn't get his act together. So what was he doing near the Red Mile at the scene of a fire?"

"That's… a wide net to cast," the man said anxiously. It was no secret that Marsha had been gunning for a story involving her ex-lover. So far the boss had shot her down at every turn because said ex-lover had kept his head down. "If you go for the trouble angle and it turns out to be innocent, Gary isn't going to be happy."

"You let me worry about Gary. We have some background to do. I want to know who Ms. Brecknor is and how she's connected to Tyr."

"Here we go again," Neil muttered with a sigh.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. The reporter was going to get herself fired chasing after an old lover.

… …

In the meantime, Abbie was furious at herself. How dare that desperate tramp disregard her?! There was a time when the whole world fell all over itself to know her thoughts and opinions. She was angry at herself for three reasons. First, she shouldn't be feeling the need to be noticed. Wasn't that the whole point of her walkabout six years ago? If Ms. Thing looked at her and saw nothing worth noting, that was supposed to be a good thing! Second, she was angry at herself that some small part of her she'd thought long dead and buried had wanted to be recognized, if only to shut the infuriating woman up. But then again, wasn't that the whole point of her walkabout? If she had to take shit in this sagging fat suit she lived in just to avoid recognition, wasn't that the whole point?. Which brought her to the third reason to beat herself over the head with the brick called 'Reality'. Why was she so damn jealous? Someone like Tyr was so far out of her league now that it wasn't even funny. She'd made sure of it when she'd condemned herself to said fat suit. So where were these feelings of jealousy coming from? She'd never allowed herself to feel such petty emotions when she'd been hot enough to compete with someone on Ms. Winslow's level. What was she doing? What the hell was this man doing to her?

She stormed into the police station riding this high of indignance and hurt feelings, refusing to acknowledge the inhumanly gorgeous man at her side. This was ridiculous and it had to stop!

"Where can I find Detective Whiskers?" she asked the man at the front desk with clipped politeness. "I have an appointment with him." The obese man ran cool, grey eyes over her dismissively, something that put her back up all over again, and pressed a button on his intercom.

"Hey Johnny. There's a kid here to see you. Says she has an appointment. Uh huh. Um, what's your name again, sweetheart?"

"Ms. Brecknor," the woman said shortly, looking as if she wanted to cause physical damage to the fat man.

"Yeah. Says her name is 'Ms Brecknor'," he said this last in a hoity-toity voice that had the girl reaching in her backpack for a weapon. Tyr covered her arm with a staying hand and she shivered as that same feeling of electricity passed through her as in the car. She calmed herself and pulled away from the man, feeling her equilibrium returning.

"He'll be right out, sweetheart," the man said in a bored tone, going back to his work. Unbalanced by the fact that she still wanted to attack a cop in the middle of a police station, she took a seat and waited for the detective. Fortunately for her nerves, Detective Whiskers didn't make her wait long. He also seemed to be all business, something that focused her.

"Ms. Brecknor, please come this way. If you'll wait here Mr. Anasazi." Yes, this was what she needed, some distance from Tyr to get her hormones and her emotions in check.

"If you'll just come this way, Arb-"

"Everyone just calls me Abbie, detective."

"Very well." he nodded as he led her down a hall to an interrogation room.

"Ms. Brecknor, for the purposes of this interview, I will be recording this. My partner, Detective Yan, will also be sitting in on this interview. Interview initiated at 10:36am. Please state your full, legal name for the record."

"My full, legal name is Abhaya Tamika Lorraine Brecknor."

"Is there any other name you go by?"

"Everyone just calls me 'Abbie'."

"Alright, Abbie. Where were you between the hours of ten pm and twelve am on the night of the fire?"

"I was at work at the hospital until eleven forty-five or so, and then we were driving to my home."

"State your occupation and which hospital you were at, please."

"I work as a Registered Nurse at the Calgary General Hospital. I work on unit 54, medical cardiology."

"Can anyone verify that you were working at the time you say you were?"

"Of course. There are ten other nurses besides Mr. Anasazi that can verify my whereabouts during the shift. Afterwards, I had to report off to my charge nurse after an incident on the unit-"

"What incident?"

"We had to call a code 66 on a patient. They ended up going to the ICU-"

"Elaborate for those of us that aren't nurses," Detective Yan said kindly.

"Oh… A 'code 66' is what we call it when a patient is faring badly and we're afraid that they are going to die. It could be breathing problems or maybe they're starting to display signs of a heart attack or a stroke. They might just not be doing well and we're not sure why. 'Code 66' is the code the nurses use to get some extra hands and extra eyes on the patient. If they flatline, it becomes a 'code blue'. This particular patient was a detoxing alcoholic who admitted to drinking a forty ounce bottle of Jack Daniels every night for years. He wasn't responding well to having those receptors- I mean, he wasn't responding to our treatment. The man was extremely agitated, standing up on his broken leg and ripping things out of himself like his IV for extra fluids and antibiotics. He even ripped out his foley catheter and that usually hurts because it's anchored in the bladder. He was loud and sexually inappropriate. He was- well, the long and short of it is, we weren't managing him very well. We have protocols that we follow with patients like that and we'd literally reached the maximum amounts of medications we could give him for his condition and he was just getting worse. So we called the code."

"And the outcome was this ICU-"

"The Intensive Care Unit. They have a lot more leeway than we do on our patient care unit. They could knock him out and monitor him until all the alcohol was out of his system for example. Which is pretty much what they were forced to do with him."

"Please, go on."

"Well, the shift ended at 2330 - I mean, 11:30pm. We go by military time in the hospital, there's not a lot of difference between a 'p' and an 'a' depending on whose handwriting it is. But 0100 and 1300 look nothing alike, even though they're one in the morning and one in the afternoon. So, the shift was officially over at 11:30pm, but there was still documentation to do and I had to report off to the ICU and then to my charge nurse about the situation as well as all about my other patients that night. I had five patients last night, you see. And we have to report to the night nurses on all our patients before we can go home. It was such a crazy night! I reported to the Intensive Care Unit nurses at 2245, I mean, 10:45pm. And got back to the unit at 11:15pm, just in time to start reporting the rest of my patients. Then my charge nurse wanted to debrief about that patient we had to code. It was probably closer to 12:00pm when I left the unit. I'm not exactly sure, but the last thing I do when leaving the unit is check a box in the computer program we use in the hospital for each of my patients called the 'Transfer of Accountability'. That would give you that exact time I left."

"And there was no way to slip away during the hours in question?"

The girl looked at him strangely. "Nursing is a very hands-on profession. I mean, the only way I could have 'slipped out' to go anywhere was during my lunch break. But I had that at seven thirty to eight thirty. And where would I go? I don't have a driver's licence or a car and it's freezing outside!"

"You should know that-"

"Tell us about your ride home that night." Detective Whiskers overrode his partner.

"The ride home? Um… It was normal. I crocheted for a little bit, then I went to sleep. I didn't know that my life was being destroyed at the time," she added bitterly. "I had a commission for a blanket that I was going to put in the mail today. I worked for a month on that blanket and- oh God, I'm going to have to email that person and tell them that the blanket they wanted is destroyed and I have to start over!" She pulled out her notepad and wrote that down.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Everything important to me, I used to write on post-its and stick on the walls of my apartment. Now that I'm out of post-its - and out of walls for that matter - I need a place to put reminders to myself. I have a thing for pretty notebooks but I don't really use them, I just collect them and keep - kept - them at my place. This was the latest one I'd bought and I hadn't had a chance to put it with the others. Lucky me, I guess."

The silence spun out for a few minutes as she continued to jot down things to do that she didn't want to forget.

"Abbie, last night you implied that Ms. Macton's daughter may have had something to do with the fire. Why would you say that?"

"I shouldn't have accused her without proof, but I was just so angry! Sylvia has this bad habit of pulling stupid pranks on me during my long stretches of shifts. She'll stop up the sinks so that my apartment will flood. She'll tear the bags of garbage and leave the garbage in front of my door. This one time she actually pulled a Home Alone prank with the scalding hot doorknob. She thinks these things are funny; I don't. And whenever I found her latest mean-spirited prank, I documented it and woke her mother in the middle of the night to deal with it. That's another reason Tyr wanted me to move out. Most of her tricks are annoying and cause property damage, but that scalding hot doorknob thing was really dangerous. She got into a lot of trouble with her mother for that one. I thought she might have tried it again in retaliation and, I don't know, something went wrong this time."

"Ms. Brecknor, you said that Ms. Macton knew that the dryer sparked. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is. I refused to pay my rent electronically. I would give her checks and with those checks I would write letters stating my grievances against her. The pranks, the dryer sparking, the badly patched holes in the walls, the fact that there was no heat downstairs at all… I documented all of it. Once I have access to my documents off my computer, I can show you."

"You don't believe that she kept copies of your grievances and complaints?"

"I don't know if she did or not. But I knew that I had a record of them in case something went wrong. I never dreamed something like this would happen though."

"Getting back to the dryer, Abbie. Did the daughter know that it sparked?"

"Oh yeah. The little brat couldn't do anything about it because Lila and I kept the floor really clean so there was nothing for the spark to catch on… No…"

"There was a line of stuffed animals leading from the dryer directly to your door that night. And you should know that Ms. Macton believes she saw you in the house around ten or so that night."

"That... little… brat! She burned down my apartment! Wait, what do you mean 'she saw me in the house around ten or so'? How could I be there when it would have taken me two hours to reach the house and two more to get back to my job? Someone would have reported me. Besides, why would I burn down my own apartment? Everything I had was there. It was a dump, but it was my dump."

"You're entitled to renter's insurance. Of course that goes away if you set the fire."

"But I didn't set the fire. That little brat did it to punish me for being away all the time and also in retaliation for getting her in trouble for that Home Alone prank! That's the reason she was able to tell her mother that the place was on fire so fast. She must have gotten scared when things went out of control."

"You understand that you're accusing a seven year old of arson, right?"

"Is there such a thing as accidental arson? Like when a smoker accidentally burns down their house by leaving a lit cigarette out?"

You're talking about the degrees of arson. And yes, there are. But right now we're trying to determine if you set the fire or if the child did."

"That's easy enough to determine. I was at work all night. I even have people that will verify that I was in the break room for an hour for break. I was involved in that code 66 and all the stuff that happened before the code was called. I'm telling you, that guy was a mess all shift long. It was such a mess. That was my night. Ask anyone on my shift that night. I was buried in paperwork and patients. I didn't have a moment to go anywhere and no means to do it even if I wanted to. I couldn't have made it down even if Tyr drove me. It was just too busy that night. And an hour and a half round trip to boot. And I didn't want to burn down my apartment! All my stuff was in that apartment."

"I don't understand why you didn't just leave if things were so bad."

"The rent was $575 plus half the utilities." The men nodded their understanding at that. "I just wanted her to fix some or most of my grievances and keep her hellion of a daughter in check. That's all."

"And your space heaters-"

"I unplugged them every day before I left the apartment. I was pretty paranoid about those things. Didn't want to burn down- Oh…"

"Well, we'll have to verify your story, but I think that's all we needed from you. If we have any additional questions, we'll arrange for you to meet us here again, okay?"

"That sounds perfect," she yawned. "Sorry," she said sheepishly when the men stared at her. "I didn't have much sleep yesterday. Too many nightmares."

"We understand, Abbie. Come on, we'll take you back to your boyfriend. Interview terminated at 11:26am"

"He's not my boyfriend," she said quickly. Johnny looked at her until she looked down at the ground. They walked her back to the front, where Tyr was engaged in a lively conversation with the man at the front desk.

"Hey, Anasazi. I'm back," she smiled.

"Whoo! You've got a good man here, Ms. Brecknor. You look after him, ya hear me?"

"Yes, sir," she said automatically. Realizing what she'd just said, she made her way to the door. Her coworker was right behind her with that infernal smirk on his face. "Don't get so cocky," she hissed once they were back out in the cold. "It was an automatic response to an authority figure, that's all."

"Whatever you say, Bliss," he chuckled, guiding her back to the car.

"Oh, Ms. Brecknor? We are going to need to confiscate your computer for those files if you still have it. The chief said that we need timestamps on those rent letters and to get those for the trial, we need your computer proper."

"Most of my folders on there are password protected," she said. "And that's if the computer even still works. I was about to call my tech buddy to see if he could get it working."

"We have a group of techs that can look it over right now. Where is it anyway?"

"I have it in my car," Tyr said darkly, not liking this one bit. "I'm not sure it's okay for you people to be rooting around in her private computer-"

"It's okay, Anasazi. You can barely get off the desktop without a password. I'm not worried."

Tyr went and got the computer from his car, garnering some strange looks from the state of it, and the four of them headed down to the IT division of the station.

"What can I do for you today, cat-man?" the tech said as he pieced together the shattered remains of a harddrive. "Woah, cute girl alert," he announced before Detective Whiskers could say anything. "Bonjour mademoiselle, comment ca va?"

"Je vais bien et comment vas-tu aujourd'hui?" she smirked at him. The men all stared at her strangely and she blushed. "Sorry, I just-"

"That's the second time you've burst into a random language today, Bliss," Tyr said into the amazed quiet. "How many languages do you know?"

"Enough to get by," she shrugged self-consciously. "The cord was warped and burned by the fire, but I'm wondering if it'll even boot up at this point."

"Let me just try out my tech-savvy mod here…" He dug out a fresh power cord and hooked the damaged computer to his monitor.

"How many dice are we talkin?" she blushed when he looked up at her in amazement. "I mean, as long as you don't crit fail on me, it should be all good."

"Multilingual and a GURPS fan. You are my perfect woman, mademoiselle," Magnus grinned at her. She looked down in embarrassment at that and therefore missed her coworker's deadly glare at the technician.

"I don't believe you introduced yourself," Tyr finally said aloud in a voice that oozed threat.

"Didn't I? I'm Magnus Vale. and I use my many talents for the good of the police force. I - oh! Crit success," he shouted as the computer began to boot up. Abbie squealed and high-fived him when Windows came on screen, typing in her password by reflex. When she went to the personal files there was another password, and another for documents and yet another for the rental documentation.

"Isn't there a master password for all of this?" Detective Yan said after the fourth password prompt came on screen.

"No," she said simply. "I'm a very private person and I like my work compartmentalized."

"Good girl," Magnus commended her.

"Then we're going to need your passwords for leading to these rental letters. You can always change them after we're finished with your computer."

"Very well," she said after a moment's thought. Tearing off a piece of paper out of her notebook, she wrote down the passwords leading to the rent letters, unlocking them by year.

"What about this folder?" Yan asked, pointing to a folder called 'Rough Cuts'.

"Oh, you don't need that one," she said quickly.

"It could be important," Whiskers said easily.

"No, you don't understand. That's just a joke folder for me. See, I'd write joke drafts of my letters for my friends and I to laugh about. Those files never saw paper. They're crude and full of swearing. I don't-"

"Show us," the detective said, pointing at the folder again. She opened it with a sigh and pulled up the first letter.

Listen up, you fat cunt,

I want my Goddamn stove fixed and I want it fixed now, bitch! Nobody asked your candy-licking ass to buy cheap, foreign knockoffs instead of regular brands. What the fuck is this brand, like it's got four o's and ten u's… where the flying fuck are the consonants!? And there's no fucking heat down here, I don't care what your facklamated little devil spawn says. I'm gonna call the cops and have you up on charges if you don't fix this right the fuck now, you onion-smelling fucktard! Da shit were you cookin last night, onions and ass?

"We were… We're big fans of the Twelfth Doctor and his show 'The Thick of It' But I have the translation for that one right here," she said quickly, pulling up another file.

Ms. Macton,

Please be advised that the stove downstairs does not appear to have a pilot light lit. I have been unable to turn it on all month. And despite what you think, there is no heat down in the basement. I invite you to come down to my apartment at any time of the day or night, it is cold and damp down here. It also appears that your daughter has stopped up the sinks in the laundry room and flooded my apartment. Again. I don't appreciate having to drain the downstairs every other day due to her actions, and the damage to the rug down here needs to be fixed.

Sincerely,

Abhaya Brecknor

"The rough cuts are joke rent letters. There's a corresponding real letter in the actual folders. I-"

"If you wouldn't mind, we'd like access to the rough cuts as well," Yan said. Abbie added that password to the list of passwords with a shrug.

"Are there any other folders in here we should have access to for the purposes of your case?"

"Um… Here's a Spreadsheet that I made for all the pranks Sylvia pulled. I'll move it to the Rent Folder."

"Thank you. Anything else?"

"No sir, that's it."

"Very well. We'll print off what we need and give you back your computer as soon as possible."

"I appreciate that. I intend to transfer all my files and things to a laptop, but I don't exactly know how to do it."

"I'm sure your friend Chris will know how to do it," Tyr told her gently, glaring daggers at Abbie's newest fan.

"Thank you for your time and I hope we can get you back on track sooner rather than later. It shouldn't take more than a few days to get these letters printed and tagged properly. In the meantime, we'll be interviewing your coworkers about yesterday and confirming your alibi. We'll be in touch."

"Of course, detectives. I want to be as cooperative as possible. Please call me when I can have my computer back. I'm probably going to sleep today away, but I want to start shopping for clothes and stuff to fill my new apartment. You obviously have my number, so let me know if you need anything more from me."

"We will," Detective Yan assured her. "If you'll come with me, I'll show you out."

Soon the two nurses were out in the cold morning air again.

"So… 'Rough Cuts', huh?" He started laughing as the two made their way to the promised warmth of the car.

"Oh, shut up! We were just having a little fun with a bad situation. I never dreamed they would become crucial evidence in an arson case. They just reveal my state of mind each month anyway. The actual letters were professional and had no trace of my inner turmoil in them."

"Plus, they're likely hilarious," Tyr smiled at her, grinning at the blush on her pretty face. "It's not fun reading letters with no personality in them. The rough cuts are ALL personality and attitude. Where would you like to shop first?" he asked at last, opening the door for her. The car was already warmed up thanks to his car starter. She got in absently, thinking about places to go, when her phone rang. Abbie answered it.

"Hello?"

"Oh thank goodness you're alright! I heard it on the news this morning that there was a fire in your neighborhood last night. I-"

"It was my place that burned down, Chris," she sighed heavily. "I lost everything except my computer. The police have that and are going through my documents for the rental letters I used to send to Lila with my rent checks. Sylvia accidentally on purpose burned down my apartment; it's an arson case now."

"Sylvia? You mean that little brat that kept sabotaging your-"

"Yep, that very one. She put a line of her stuffed animals from my door to the sparking dryer. The whole thing went up in flames. And Lila is trying to make it out like I did it! Well, I'm not going to jail for her little demon spawn!"

"Damn rights! Um, damn. I'm so sorry, Abbie. Where did you sleep last night?"

"Don't worry about it," she said with a quick look at her heretofore silent companion. "Listen, while I have you on the phone, when the police give me back my computer, I need to upgrade to a laptop. I-"

"Wait a minute, where did you go last night? You should have called me, I would have given you the keys to my place. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I stayed with the guy that usually drops me off after work. But Chris, he's-"

"The one that's trying to bang you? Abhaya, are you nuts? You don't need to be owing him 'favors'-" Before the man could continue his tirade, full-throated laughter rang out on the phone.

"He's in the car with me right now," she finished in a huff, feeling her skin heating up again.

"Abhaya, why didn't you tell me that I was on speakerphone?" Chris asked in an entirely too calm voice.

"You're not. The car just picked up the call automatically! It's not my fault!"

Tyr was still in good spirits, chuckling from Chris' comments. "My cars are wired to pick up Bluetooth devices in them automatically. You had access in my Jag. Not that you ever used it," he muttered darkly.

"Well, you don't need to worry about Abhaya anymore, Mr.-"

"Tyr," the driver said easily.

"Mr. Tyr," her friend finished lamely. "I can pick her up from the police station and you can be on your way. I'll take care of-"

"We're already on our way from the police station, Mr. Chris," Tyr said in amusement. "I've got her. And as for 'trying to bang her', if that was all I was after, I would have given up on the lovely Ms. Brecknor years ago. Two and a half years is enough for any man's pride. No, at the moment we are only friends."

"If you're only friends then why-"

"I have made my interest known to the lady. I don't give up easily. We will call you when the computer is back in our possession."

"Wait a minute! That could take days!" Chris protested. "You can't just… keep her until then!"

"I assure you, I can," he said smoothly, cutting off the transmission. "Where to, Lady?" he asked sweetly.

"That… th-that was my call, Anasazi! You had no right to-"

"I'm not going to argue my good intentions with your jealous friend. We've got shopping to do or a nap to take."

"Jealous?" she asked. "What would make you think he's jealous?"

"Chris is obviously attracted to you, Bliss. I can hear it in his voice. Like I would leave you alone at the police station," he murmured darkly. "Where to? Home or the mall?"

"Why would I go to the mall to shop? Walmart should have everything I need."

"You need good clothes and things that are going to last. Plus, you want the money from Lila Macton, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"What better way than to buy a higher grade than you're used to on her dime? I've seen how often you need to replace your scrubs. Doesn't it make more sense to buy more expensive scrubs that will actually last?"

"How would you know how often I buy new scrubs?"

"I notice things," he told her firmly. "Things like the near constant holes in your pants at the thighs. Buying cheap just adds up in the long run. So, we're going to pick out good scrubs from a nursing store that will have your size. Since it's not your money you're spending, it only makes sense."

Abbie took this in, mortified that anyone would notice that the thighs of her scrub pants tended to wear out from her thighs constantly rubbing together. What else might he have been able to observe after so long working together? Shivering at the uncomfortable thought, she sighed and made a decision.

"Well, since you're harping on my work clothes, we should go and replace them now," she said around a jaw-cracking yawn.

"What we should be doing is getting you some sleep," the man said firmly, turning the car around. "You've been through a lot and you're running on fumes right now. Take today to rest and plan your strategy for replacing your things. We can always go shopping tomorrow."

"I can sleep in the car," she said stubbornly. "I do that all the time."

"Not this time, little love. This time you're going to stretch out on your bed and get some true rest. I insist on it."

"I'm not your 'little love'," she growled. "I'm not your Bliss, I'm not your anything!"

Tyr didn't bother saying anything to this claim. He simply leaned over while they were at a red light and pressed his lips against hers. He pressed his advantage when she gasped in shock, using her move to sweep his tongue into her partially open mouth. There he wreaked havoc on her senses, not stopping his assault until the car behind them honked with impatience. Pulling away with utter reluctance, he drove through the intersection and continued on his way to their home.

It took a few blocks for her to remember anything outside of the basics, like breathing or the taste of anything besides his tongue. God, what a man! She needed to guard herself against him more carefully.

"That's… that's the second kiss you've stolen from me," the woman said softly.

"I look forward to the day when it's no longer considered 'stealing', little Bliss," he said easily. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm in love with you." He ignored her gasp and sputter of protest. "I want so much more than a few stolen kisses." The car was dead silent after that. Halfway home, he turned on the radio to ease her mind. She stubbornly refused to sleep, clenching her jaw and fists to try and stay awake. It didn't work though, and the last fourth of the trip Tyr stole glances at her sleeping form whenever traffic allowed it. There. Now she knew his heart. She might protest and deny it, but at least he'd said it out loud for the first time ever. He was in love with her. No wonder he couldn't move on to another woman. He wanted to spend his life with her, keeping her safe and warm. He wanted to help her lose weight so she would feel more self confident about herself. He wanted her to admit that she loved him too.

With a heavy sigh, he woke her once they were back in his garage. The girl seemed skittish in his presence now. And it didn't help that his sister had decided to drop by for the afternoon.

"So you finally convinced her to move in with you," Jubilee said disgustedly.

"No, you don't understand-"

"It's not like that at all," Tyr defended urgently.

"My house burned down last night-"

"She has nowhere else to go," he continued over his frantic coworker.

"I lost everything. But I only slept down in the basement," she concluded with a hunted look that had both siblings worried about her. "I would never-"

"It's alright, Bliss," the man said carefully. "No one is accusing you of any wrongdoing. Come and sit. Meet my sister, Jubilee Antoinette Anasazi."

"I'm four years younger than Tyr Charlemagne here, but I make up for it with faith and sass."

"Your middle name is Charlemagne?" Abbie asked with a slight smile.

"What of it?" he snapped irritably, never having been comfortable with his middle name.

"It just sounds like your parents believed you were both destined for great things," she commented idly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jubilee. I'm Abhaya Tamika Lorraine Brecknor."

"Wow. All of that is your name," the younger girl blinked.

"Sometimes I think I couldn't have picked a better name myself," she smiled. The two hit it off, talking about all manner of things. Turns out that Jubilee was a Christian too, so they talked about the finer points of their faith while Tyr looked on. Abbie was drooping by the end of the afternoon, but stubbornly refusing to go to sleep. When her head dropped for the third time, Tyr swept her into his arms over her protests and headed for the basement suite.

"Put me down, Anasazi! I'm not some invalid, I can walk!"

"I am aware of that fact, Bliss. But it's time for sleep."

"I'm not tired," she said stubbornly. Both of the Anasazi siblings laughed at this blatant untruth. The girl looked insulted, but tried again. "If I go to sleep now, I will wake up at some strange time of the night. I need to keep to a normal sleep routine. I'll sleep tonight."

"Like you slept last night?" he asked harshly. "You were plagued by nightmares and hardly got any sleep at all!"

"I'm an adult! I'll do what I want. And put me down! I'm heavy."

"I bench more than you weigh, Bliss. You're not that heavy to me. As for 'doing what you want', your body has been insisting on sleep all day. You don't want to wake up in the middle of the night, fine. A nap, then. I will have Esperanza wake you in three hours. You need some sleep!"

The two stared each other down, trying to out stubborn each other. Tyr won when Abbie gave another jaw-cracking yawn.

"Let's get you to bed, little one," he said gently as he carried her out of the room. He kept the ride smooth for his lady and soon she was asleep. He turned to his sister when he reached her bed; the bed sheets were tangled, evidence of her distress in the night. Jubilee was quick to make the bed, folding back a corner for her brother to put the exhausted nurse down in. He settled her expertly, kissing her forehead at her sleepy protest.

"You really love her, don't you?" his little sister asked once they'd left the suite.

"I do," he said simply. "I take it Mom sent you to make sure I wasn't taking advantage once Abuela told her that the girl was here?"

Jubilee looked abashed, but brazened it out. "She's been afraid that Abbie's been leading you on; there are many ways to win a family fortune. But I can tell that she's genuinely fighting her attraction to you. I wonder why?"

"The lady hath many secrets," Tyr sighed, remembering her debut as a multilingual expert.

"Do you plan to paint one of them?" his sister grinned, a huge fan of the movie Ever After. He grinned and went to find some food after a busy morning with his lady. The two caught up over soup and sandwiches lovingly prepared by Abuela. Less than an hour later Abbie stumbled into the kitchen. If anything, she looked even more run down than before. Tyr stood up angrily, picking up the girl and heading for the stairs again.

"I said three hours, Bliss, not forty-five minutes. Back to bed. Now." He ignored her protests, carrying her back to her room. This time he settled down with her in the bed.

"You can't - You can't just-"

"Watch me," he said firmly. "No nightmares are going to keep you from a well deserved nap. You're dead on your feet. It's time for some true rest. Now go to sleep." He laid on top of the covers while his new tenant lay under them. That didn't stop him from settling her head against his muscular chest, effectively trapping her in the bed. She struggled, but Tyr was persistent and soon she was sprawled against him adorably, snoring softly.

"Wake us up in three hours please. She is going to sleep this time," he said determinedly to the room at large. Abuela and Jubilee both nodded and left the basement suite.

"What do you think, Abuela?" Jubilee asked while watching her grandmother-like figure clean the dishes.

"I think young Tyr has found himself a wife," the old woman smiled.

So, the fight for Abbie's heart has officially begun! Tyr has launched a strong attack, breaking out the 'L' word, but Abbie is still resisting. At least the poor girl is finally getting some sleep! It's been a hard day for her. See ya next week, kiddies! :D