Hey, everyone. Your daily upload has arrived, though due to some commitments at the end of the week I probably won't get another one up until Monday. To answer a couple questions from reviews:
Do prosecutors get called out to crime scenes or in the middle of the night? Yes, sometimes. To go to an actual crime scene isn't incredibly common where I am, but calls aren't that odd. I actually got a 2am warrant question not long ago.
There was a question about my children - I watched Lost Girl when on maternity leave with my youngest daughter, and I wrote this starting shortly after. My oldest was about 4 at that time. That oldest is getting ready to be in junior high next year as a 7th grader (which is hard for me to believe). The baby from the maternity leave is going into 3rd grade. I have also had a son since, who starts pre-k in the Fall. There will be no more children, God willing, haha.
I think that was all of the questions. Hope you're enjoying! Let's get back to it.
Lauren woke up to the sound of her cell phone alarm and immediately felt a dark sense of déjà vu. She took a deep breath as her eyes slowly adjusted to being awake and found she could not smell coffee. The apartment was silent.
She pulled herself out of bed and began moving towards the kitchen, dreading the note she was sure she was about to find by the coffeepot. She made her way through the weak morning light, through the sleeping house, and listened to the ticking of the clock that now seemed too loud. She approached the empty coffeepot and found no note.
Puzzled, she had a moment where she thought about going back to the bedroom to retrieve her phone. She was about to turn around when she heard a key turn in the door lock, followed by skittering paws as Zeus bounded into the house, running for his water bowl. Bo walked in behind him, hanging his leash on the nearby hook.
"Morning," Lauren said, and at the sound of her voice Bo jumped and turned around.
"Jesus, Lauren, I didn't know you were up," Bo answered. Her hair was coming loose from her ponytail and her face was flushed, sweaty. She looked at her watch. "Sorry, I didn't realize how late it was."
Lauren pulled out the coffeepot and began filling it with water. "You went running?"
Bo pulled off her sweatshirt as she walked towards the kitchen. "Just a quick jog," she answered.
Lauren pulled out a filter and the bag of coffee grounds from the cabinet. "Mhmm. How quick?"
Bo shrugged. "Not far."
"The Dal doesn't open for hours. You could have slept in."
Bo pulled out their mugs and set them on the counter, and then crossed to the fridge to get Lauren's whole milk, pouring a bit in Lauren's mug before returning its spot on the door and pushing it closed. "It's fine, I slept."
Lauren nodded, thinking. "Bullshit," she said, after a moment.
Bo glanced at her.
"You didn't sleep," Lauren continued. "Not really, anyway."
"I slept enough."
"How much is enough?"
Bo walked over to a barstool and sat down. "Do we really have to do this?"
"How bad are the nightmares this time?"
Bo sat back and crossed her arms, her demeanor hardening. "I'm fine."
"Obviously, that's why you're doing a half marathon before sunrise."
Bo groaned. "C'mon, Lauren, aren't you sick of this fight yet?'
Lauren laughed. "Of course I'm sick of this fight, but I'm not sick of you, so I'm not letting it go."
"I woke up, I went for a run. That's not a problem, that's a healthy habit."
"Nothing about this is healthy," Lauren responded. The coffeepot beeped that it was finished brewing. Lauren poured them each a mug. She placed Bo's in front of her.
Bo accepted the mug and took a sip of the coffee black.
"Black again?"
Bo glanced at the mug and shrugged. "I didn't notice."
Lauren nodded. "You really need to consider talking to someone."
"Because I'm drinking black coffee?"
"Because you aren't noticing you're drinking black coffee."
Bo shook her head and placed her mug back down on the counter. "Do you want the shower first?" she asked as she began to push herself up.
Lauren reached over and put her hand on Bo's wrist, stopping her, and looked into Bo's eyes. "I love you. But you aren't sleeping. You aren't talking. And I need you back."
Bo kept her gaze on Lauren's, thinking about her words. When she remained silent, Lauren walked around and approached Bo where she sat. She took both of Bo's hands in hers. "Just…think about it, okay? That's all I'm asking for right now. Just think about it."
Bo looked back into Lauren's eyes and took a breath. She stood up and gave Lauren a kiss, gentle and sweet. She used the back of the fingers on her right hand to run down the side of Lauren's face, watching Lauren's eyes close in the soft morning light. When Lauren opened her eyes again, Bo was still looking into them. "Okay," she said, softly. "I'm not saying I'll definitely do it, but…I'll think about it."
When Lauren got out of the shower, she could hear rummaging in the kitchen. She walked in, still using a towel to dry her hair, and saw Bo on her hands and knees, digging through a cabinet. She stood back, observing Bo for a bit as she worked on…something.
"Okay, I'll bite. What are you doing now?"
Bo jumped slightly at Lauren's voice. "Oh, hey, sorry, didn't hear you."
"Again."
Bo glanced over her shoulder. "What?"
"Nothing. What are you doing?"
Bo wiped her hands together. "I was going to grab you a travel mug, and I remembered the black one you used to use was down here for some reason, and when I went to get it the cabinet was kind of a mess, so –"
"So you're reorganizing a cabinet."
Bo looked up at her again. "Not…reorganizing, just straightening."
"Right." Lauren walked over and grabbed the travel mug that hadn't recalled seeing in the last nine months from the counter, depositing it by the coffeepot. "The Dal doesn't open until 11. Should I expect to come home to a rearranged living room?"
Bo stood up, rubbing her hands over her knees. "You're reading too much into this. I was just straightening up a couple things."
"You know, most people would just sit and watch the news while they drink their coffee, or throw on some music or something. Listen to a podcast."
"You'd prefer I didn't clean?"
"It's 6:30. I can live with a cabinet lacking in feng shui until at least 9." Lauren said it with a slight smile, and Bo's shoulders relaxed slightly. She picked up her own coffee mug and took another sip. "What time are you going to the Dal?"
Bo glanced at the clock on the stove. "Not for a while, I guess. Kenzi won't get there before 10:30."
"Is that going to be an issue today?"
"What?"
"When I got home yesterday it seemed like there was something going on."
Bo shrugged. "It's fine." Lauren quirked an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Bo rolled her eyes. "This isn't me deflecting, it's really fine. We've fought enough times before. God knows, this wasn't anywhere close to our worst one. It's fine."
"Do you want to talk about what you fought about?"
"You know what we fought about."
Lauren smiled faintly. "But do you want to talk about it?"
Bo sighed and gave Lauren a look. "Alright, I'm going to get a shower."
"Thank God, you smell terrible."
Lauren's playful tone caught Bo off guard and she gave a quick smile. It was a fast smile, ordinary, nothing particularly memorable or bright, but given the last few days it was like the sun bursting through clouds to Lauren.
"Just for that, I'm going to rearrange everything under your sink," Bo shot back as she walked towards the bathroom.
After Lauren left for work, Bo spent a few minutes pretending to sit on the couch and drink coffee, some morning show chattering on the TV. About two minutes later she gave up the pretense, and stood up. She headed towards the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee and retrieved cleaning supplies. Mug in hand, she headed towards the bathroom and began deep cleaning the floors.
An hour later the bathroom had been scrubbed to within an inch of its life and Bo was developing a headache from the overwhelming smell of the chemicals. Leaving the vent on, she gathered her supplies and moved to the bedroom. Once there she stripped the sheets from the bed and bundled everything together, shoving it all into the washing machine and turning it on. She began to work on dusting and cleaning.
By 10, Bo had cleaned most of the apartment, had two bags of clothes to drop off at the donation center, and had arranged Lauren's books in alphabetical order by color. Yeah, it looks like a crazy person did that, Lauren is definitely going to notice. The bed was remade with fresh sheets, the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, the mail that accumulated on the corner of the countertop was sorted and the junk had been thrown out.
Bo stretched and looked at her watch. It wouldn't take her long to get to the bar. She walked to the bedroom and changed her clothes, and then headed out the door.
Kenzi walked down the stairs to the bar at 10:25 noting that she smelled coffee brewing and heard someone moving around. When she walked in, she was greeted by the sight of Bo wiping down bottles, a tray of freshly cut lemons and limes in front of her on the counter.
Bo glanced up when Kenzi walked behind the bar, but didn't say anything. Kenzi wordlessly picked up a mug and poured herself a generous mug of coffee, then added sugar and milk before taking a long drag. Once that task was completed, she set her mug on the bar and looked at Bo expectantly.
Bo didn't say anything, but glanced up and used her thumb to point behind her, where a box of donuts was waiting. Kenzi walked over to it and opened the lid, finding six chocolate glazed sitting in two neat rows. She grabbed one and took a bite.
"Those limes should be sliced thinner," she said, her mouth full.
"Then you slice them," Bo shot back, replacing the bottle she had wiped and grabbing the next one.
"I'm your manager, if you don't do what I say, I can just send you home."
Bo rolled her eyes. "The limes are fine, smart ass."
Kenzi smiled and pushed another large bite of donut into her mouth. "Better than a dumb ass."
The bar was quiet, which was unsurprising. Kenzi split her time between the back office and the floor, making sure things were running smoothly and that everything was in line for the weekend. Around 1p, Tamsin entered the bar and walked up to Bo who was near the register.
"Day off?" Tamsin joked.
Bo cut her eyes at her. "Good afternoon, may I take your order?" Bo replied.
"You seem surly, should I be worried you're going to spit in my food?" Tamsin asked, reaching behind the counter to grab a menu.
"I guess life is all about risk, isn't it?" Bo answered, using a calculator to total a stack of receipts.
Tamsin read over the menu for a minute and then reached into Bo's apron pocket, grabbing her order pad and writing down what she wanted. She handed the pad back to Bo. "You're crabby," she noted, snagging a pretzel from the bowl on the bar top. She made a face. "And these are stale."
Bo shrugged, tearing the order off and walking it to the kitchen. When she came back, Tamsin was behind the bar, emptying the bowl into the trash. "You know I can kick you out for coming behind the bar, right?" Bo asked, sarcastically.
Tamsin waved a hand at her, walking back around the bar to sit down, where she took a drink of the Coke she had poured herself. "So, Lauren won't let you go to work, huh? Wanna talk about it?"
Bo sighed. "What is with everyone?"
"I know, right? It's like everyone doesn't want you to go all crazy self-destructive. Weird."
Bo rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."
"You're a trained lawyer working as a substitute bartender at lunch on a weekday. Always a sign that life is right on track."
Bo rolled her head from side to side, loosening her neck, and took a breath. Dammit, why hadn't she stuck with that meditation class? She looked at Tamsin, who was watching her expectantly.
"Lauren wants me to go to therapy."
"That's because Lauren isn't an idiot," Tamsin replied.
Bo shook her head and turned back to her work.
A few beats passed before Tamsin spoke again. "Why don't you want to go?"
"Go where?"
Now it was Tamsin's turn to roll her eyes. "Therapy."
"I just don't see the point."
"I think the point is to be able to take a day off without deep cleaning a dive bar."
"Dive bar?" Bo challenged.
"I'm just saying, if you're too keyed up to take a nap, maybe you should talk to someone about that."
"Tamsin, I'm fine. Seriously. I'm not going crazy, I'm not going to stab anyone, I'm fine. Everyone can just calm down."
Tamsin took a sip of her stolen Coke. "What's the new hobby this time?"
Bo didn't answer, just kept working.
Tamsin thought for a moment. "I'm going to guess…" she ran her eyes over Bo. "Swimming?"
"I'm not swimming," Bo answered, still not looking up.
"I'd guess pickleball, but there's no way you're getting Kenzi to do that with you, and Dyson is still on this yoga kick. Boxing? I can see you doing boxing."
"She's a runner now," Kenzi interjected, walking out from the office.
"Hey, Kenz, tell Bo about therapy," Tamsin replied.
Kenzi glanced up. "Are you finally going to go to therapy?" she asked Bo.
"What do you mean, 'finally'? Why does everyone suddenly think I need therapy?"
"Oh, there's no 'suddenly'," Tamsin replied.
Kenzi closed the register drawer. "I think it's more a question of why you think you don't need therapy."
"I'm fine," Bo answered.
"Clearly. This week has been a master class in healthy behaviors," Kenzi said back, her hand on her hip.
A ding came from the kitchen, and Bo gave both women a look before going to retrieve Tamsin's sandwich.
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