>LA QUINTA INN & SUITES
>3SEP2019
>2100...///

Laine found one of Avery’s small vodka bottles and took a sip, then downed the whole thing. She breathed out a hiss and tossed it in the trash then pulled on the undershirt, a plain black tank top. He was still gone, at the bar no doubt. She checked her phone, sending him a quick text to check in, to call if he needed a ride. It would likely be ignored in favor of an Uber but she had to try. 

She rummaged through the new clothes, most she had bought for practicality rather than fashion but despite the self-denial she knew she wanted to look good for Donnelley. Laine was annoyed at that but found the cutest pair of panties anyway, a black lacy thing that let half her ass hang out. 

“You are such a fucking sucker,” she muttered to herself, pulling them up and tugging at the snug fit. Over the underwear, she put on a pair of black jogging shorts with white trim. Her long legs extended down to the pair of Chucks she laced on without socks. 

“It might not even get there, he’s hurt,” she said again, then paused. Talking to oneself was one thing but answering was another. There were more pressing matters that needed discussing more than her own feelings. She would keep it there, to the upcoming trip to Alaska. To Sobel and Muru and Renko. Keep it to Foster and Overman. 

She went over the things she wanted to touch on even as she checked her reflection and added a little dark eyeliner and a touch of red to her lips. [i]*Goddamnit,*[/i] she turned away from the mirror and tossed the tube of lipstick into her open purse. 

Laine sat at the end of her bed, her hands clasped between her knees as she leaned on her elbows. The storm within was roiling, ever since the wedding, before that the phone call and the awkward goodbye. The moment outside the cabin of the killers. Everything tilted up and down, back and forth, on or off. She examined the cheap black nail polish she wore, Ava and she had given each other manicures after another shopping trip to Target. 

Finally, she checked her phone once more but Avery had not returned the message and she tapped the Spotify app to silence Peter Steele howling about not wanting to be. Laine set her phone in her purse and stuffed it into the suitcase, taking only her key card. 

After a stop at the soda machine, she held to Cokes, one regular and one diet, and went to Donnelley’s room. She tucked one against her arm and knocked, then took a step back. 

The door unlocked and swung open, revealing Donnelley looking out from the doorway. Seeing that it was Laine, he opened it fully and stood there in nothing but his gym shorts. From the look in his eye as they roamed from her eyes to her thighs, it was clear that he approved. He looked at her again, giving her that smirk of his as he scratched at his beard, “Hope I’m not underdressed.”

He stepped aside and waved her in, closing the door behind her. It would have been appropriate to have candles burning and roses leading to the bed, but Donnelley had told himself that now was not the time. She probably would only want to talk business with the way he’d been so distant. But a bottle of whiskey- the same brand they’d drank together in another motel in another time- stood on one of the nightstands. “So…” he began, not quite knowing where to go from there.

After all the things he’d rehearsed in his head, the conversations he’d had and everything, he had nothing now. They’d just gone off and disappeared on him. Arguments he’d think they’d have, tearful reunions, warm welcomes, everything. He only stood across from her not knowing what to do, “I’m glad you came over… I missed you.”

Laine felt her breath catch, looking at him in his shorts and nothing else. His lean hard body that bore the marks of a life of war, the ginger trail down past his navel guided her eyes before she looked up quickly. She gestured to herself, “I figured it was motel casual tonight.”

She stepped inside, her hips swaying in an unconscious invitation as she moved over to the table and set the Cokes down. Laine glanced over at him, her own thoughts muddled by the emotions she had gone over and over through the time apart. 

Laine met his gaze, biting her inner lip then nodded, “Yeah, I kinda wondered about that.”

Her hands rested on her hips and she took a deep breath, “You know, you make it really hard to be mad at you. You piss me off but then go get a hole put in you.”

She felt her voice catch at that, looking at the wound then to his face. “Fuck, how can I yell at you and call you an asshole now? You know my weakness, you almost dying.”

Laine rubbed her hand across her mouth then sighed, “I missed you, a lot. More than I thought I would. I was so worried, I couldn’t find out anything. After Ava had her vision, I don’t know how she sees things but after dealing with Muru and Sobel, and after knowing...I believe it.” 

She took a step closer, her hands still resting on her hips as she gazed up at him, “I thought you might be dead…”

Laine dropped her hands and reached to swipe at her eyes and took a deep breath of determination to keep her shit together. Donnelley stepped forward and placed a gentle hand along her jaw, feeling himself tingle with the intimate touch. It hadn’t even been long since they’d seen each other, but it felt like it. He tucked Sobel’s name away for now, focusing on what mattered. On what was in front of him, “I’m okay,” he said softly, “I’m right here.”

Laine swallowed hard, pushing that lump in her throat down as his calloused fingers touched the sensitive skin of her jaw. Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she met his gaze then dropped all pretense. She leaned into him, careful of the square of thick gauze taped to his ribs. Her fingers grazed over his chest, resting her hand where his heart beat. Laine stayed there for a moment, breathing him in, the whiskey and cigarettes, the underlying scent of whatever hotel body wash he used. And Donnelley, warm and still alive under her hand. 

Like the last time, the anger and annoyances that had built up when she allowed her selfish nature to indulge itself melted away. It was just them now, not the Team or the Program. 

Laine turned her face up, her lips parting slightly as she moved to kiss him. Their lips met, and Donnelley let go his breath. A gentle thing at first, feeling the plumpness of her lips against his, the soft brushing of soft, delicate skin. He held her close, feeling a growing need. It was both for her, and also to let out the stress of the desperation and fear and anger of Iraq. Like letting whatever, the world, fate know that he still lived. Both ecstatic triumph and desperate reminder. At the last second, he broke the kiss, looking down at Laine.

Laine pressed against him, closing her eyes as their kiss deepened, her own desire quivering through her body. The ache of missing him and the fear of what loving a man like Donnelley would bring her, even admitting such feelings to herself was met with a wall of self denial. It had been physical, she had told herself but her heart fluttered when she heard his voice or saw his smirking smile. As their kiss broke, she looked up at him, sighing soft. 

“You’re my weakness,” she whispered, pulling back slowly. She glanced over at the cans of soda and the bottle of whiskey, recognizing the brand. Laine bit her lip and she turned away to regain her composure. 

“We should catch up, have a drink,” Laine said, looking around for the motel supplied cups and ice bucket. 

Donnelley let her go slowly, stepping back from her and sitting on the bed. He lay back and his reaching fingers found the whiskey, pulling it to him. To his credit, it was still sealed and he waited for Laine to return with the cups. As she retrieved them, he let his eyes drink her in, thinking about the things they’d done in motels. It felt a little taboo. Well, it was. If Foster found out about them he’d have Donnelley canned and some other fool at the helm of UMBRA. He couldn’t let that happen, not just because his ego told him he was the right one for them… he felt Laine was the right one for him. Maybe he was being presumptuous, jumping the gun when Laine was satisfied with quick, carnal, violent encounters in lonely motels where no one else could see.

He hoped not. Donnelley took the cup that Laine returned with, pouring about a shot’s worth into hers before his, “So,” he said, “Muru? Who’s that?”

Laine cracked open the Cokes, adding some from the silver can to her whiskey and drank it slowly. She sat beside him, leaving a gap between them. She crossed her legs, resting her cup against her knee as she answered, “Muru is what I called her, she is the girl you and THUNDER rescued. It’s just a Finnish nickname my Pappa used to call me. I know she’s Russian, a Ukrainian Jew actually, but anyway...we needed to call her something other than the girl.”

She paused, taking another drink and shivered at the whiskey fire, her thoughts on Muru and the tinkling glass sound. “We um, actually ended up finding her with Renko. That was a whole thing I’m sure Foster will fill you in on at some point. We met the team who were supposed to give us the van but they knew. I don’t know, Donnelley. I was afraid for Muru, she’s just a little girl. I bluffed the agent in charge, I’m pretty sure she knew it was bullshit but we got the damn van.”

Laine drained her glass and held it out for him, turning to meet his eyes. “I just didn’t want anything else to happen to her, Renko told us where she came from and how they used her.”

Her eyes closed briefly, the vodka and now whiskey starting to loosen her up, “I dunno, dude. I believed him. Despite my mistrust of Russians I don’t think he’s lied to us since he brought the hellhound into our laps. Renko said to be careful who I trust, I didn’t want to trust Sobel but he’s got a way about him. He had some answers and...well, it’s better Ava tell you that part.”

She looked at Donnelley again, “I saw you, in one of Sobel’s pictures. In the jungle somewhere. That’s the only reason I finally relented and had hope that I was leaving Muru with someone with the best intentions. It’s not a sound reason, but there it is.” 

Donnelley nodded along, Renko having the girl was surprising and confusing. And Sobel’s involvement as well. “Africa.” Donnelley said, “That’s where I met him. Just before I was in Somalia. It was me, Peake, Guzman, Foster and Sobel.”

He knocked back the whiskey with barely a grimace, remembering Africa and remembering his two dead teammates. That place was a reminder that humans could be evil on their own, despite what they’d found in Somalia later. He turned to Laine, refilling their cups, “So, Sobel’s got the-... er, Muru?” Donnelley shrugged, “I trust him.”

Donnelley didn’t tell Laine that most of his interrogation techniques had come from Sobel. Not just the bits about physical pain, but mental games as well. The Program letting Sobel have the girl… or Muru, he told himself again, probably wasn’t related to what Sobel could do to a man for his secrets. More like what Donnelley had seen Sobel do with… well, there wasn’t any other word than magic. “What does that mean, though?” He asked, “What Renko said? Be careful who we trust?”

Laine took the whiskey but did not add soda to it this time, the recollection of Renko making her gulp the booze. “He said it, I don’t know how much he knows.  Renko knows more than he was willing to share at that moment, time was of the essence. He’s used us, sure. But he’s not done anything to hurt us, not that I can figure out. He just wanted to help Muru. He knew enough to find Muru where they were keeping her for the hand off. Left a series of notes, all very mysterious and super spy stuff.”

Her lips quirked with a brief smile before she downed the rest of the whiskey, grimacing at the burn. “I don’t know, look, Donnelley,” she said, turning her head so she could face him. “I”m a psychologist, not a psychic but I also believe intuition is a survival instinct. I’m sure you have felt that gut feeling when something is off.” 

Laine hesitated to tell him what she felt around Foster and Overman, he knew them she did not. But the whiskey and the urge to unburden herself to someone who understood this world much more than she took hold. “At the meeting we had before going to the handoff, it felt strange. Foster...I don’t know, I just got the feeling he was lying. Or holding back. Which I guess isn’t unusual since [i]everything[/i] is need to know. But Overman, he gives me the creeps. I don’t trust him. You know we have a leak somewhere, I don’t think it’s anyone in UMBRA not just because I trust them but because we literally don’t know enough to be a leak.” 

She laughed bitterly, then held the cheap plastic cup out for another shot, her green gaze taking in his reaction, “Is this how it always feels?”

Donnelley shrugged, “More or less. Didn’t even feel like this in Afghanistan.” He shook his head, throwing back his whiskey, “This is a different world than the military, or being a Fed. Renko’s an agent, there has to be an end he’s working towards.”

“As far as Foster goes, I know. Ever since that magic prick showed up things haven’t been the same.” Donnelley shared a glance with Laine before looking back at his empty cup, “Like there’s a game bein’ played. We’re just the pieces on the board.”

He had a quizzical look on his face then, “Foster didn’t want me digging too deep in Iraq.” He sat up, like something struck him then, “The prison… maybe it’s nothin’. Coincidence. Was Overman at the briefin’ you had?”

“He was very short with me when I called him about Ava’s vision, basically said not to call him again,” she shrugged, tipping her cup back and forth like a cat switching it’s tail. “Which is just great to hear when we’re sitting out here in Buttfuck, Idaho waiting around to see if the Russians sniff us out. I figured it was him getting annoyed at me calling him about some dream but he knows, he knows what Ava’s visions are or at least knows enough that he fucking recruited her not just because she’s a tech genius.”

The mention of Iraq made Laine snap her head up and she gasped, “Oh shit, I almost forgot. He said you activated Jason, is he alright? Where is he now? Ava didn’t mention him, she only saw you.”

The mention of Overman brought her back and she nodded, “He was there, hovering around Foster.” 

“Jason’s better off than me. They were shootin’ at him, but got me.” Donnelley fell quiet then, staring at the cup before he cleared his throat and filled it. It wasn’t the first time he got shot, or shot at, and it wouldn’t be the last time either. “Anyways, he wasn’t there when I woke up. Spookin’ a spook. We got what we needed there.”

“Overman’s an unknown. I don’t like unknowns. Renko seems to show up every time I’m not there, seems… off.” He said, he threw back another shot and rubbed at his face, “I don’t like chasin’ my tail over these things.”

He went back to laying down and placed a hand on the small of Laine’s back, his thumb rubbing circles in the muscle there. He smiled softly at her, then it turned to a frown as he sighed, “I’m sorry.” He said, “About the wedding. About not showin’ up. I don’t have an excuse, but…”

He sat up again, placing a hand on her exposed thigh and searching her eyes, that green emerald that seemed to shine into his blue and pull things out of him no one else could. He spoke soft and sincere, “But I want to make it up to you. Just tell me how and it’s done.”

Laine felt a slight disappointment that Jason was not joining them, they had lost so many from their team to attrition but at least he was still in their fight. “That’s too bad he’s not coming along, I’m glad he wasn’t hurt,” she said, then looked at Donnelley, she held her cup for him to fill and took a drink. “I wish you hadn’t been hurt, how bad…”

She cut herself off, he was alive and that was enough for now. His touch on her lower back made her shiver slightly, what she was going to say about Overman falling away from her thoughts. His mention of the wedding made her turn towards him, “I would have liked you there, I got too drunk and was mean to the best man.”

Laine laughed at the hazy memory then shrugged, “I...uh, I didn’t you know, do anything with anyone. I kept thinking about you, I was pissed off at you but you know, like…”

She raised a hand and let it fall against her thigh, a light slapping sound issuing before her hand slid back off to the bed. Laine drank her whiskey, “I figured you had your reasons, it’s just after that phone call, I guess I got ahead of myself.” 

Her gaze raked over his outstretched body as he lay beside her, the curling warmth of lust making itself known in her core. She traced the lines of his abdominal muscles and the pelvic bone until they vanished under the waistband of his gym shorts. The gray material gave an outline of what was underneath, the contours of which she could still recall. 

When he sat up, she looked back up at his face, smiling at his offer and the sensation of his hand on her pale thigh. “How to make it up to me?” she took a deep exaggerated breath, pushing out her chest against the flimsy undershirt. “Remember when we talked about the beach in Mexico or the fields of France? I’m joking, but I wouldn’t mind going to see where Donnelley raised hell. I’ve been to Texas before, just for work. El Paso, San Antonio, Houston...a couple of small towns.”

She gave him a wry grin, “On second thought, maybe you could come to LA with me next time we have some down time?” 

Laine blushed a bit and put her hand over his, “Honestly, I don’t care. I just want some alone time with you, without having to worry about hiding so damn much.” 

“Deal.” Donnelley smiled. He scooted closer to her so their hips touched, “I’d love to show you my old stomping grounds. Lookin’ at them might not be much, but I have memories in there.”

“And I’d love to follow you around LA. Am I gonna have to be a good boy if I meet your parents?” He chuckled.

Laine bit her lower lip slightly, then lifted the cup to sip the last of the whiskey out. “Well, at least be nice to my Dad, he’s a good man. My Mom...she’s a handful. She’ll definitely be passive aggressive and attention seeking so fair warning. I won’t hold you back.”

She laughed a little, the heady feeling of intoxication starting to take hold. “I’d like to see where the long haired, eyeliner wearing Donnelley made his mark. What did they call you back then? Joey? Joseph?” 

“Joey.” He shrugged, “When I came back and became a Sheriff Deputy, they called me Robocop.”

He laughed, “I used to be a straightedge back then. A good cop, not that there was much corruption in a small town like Dalhart. A lot of assholes takin’ advantage of others.” He sighed, “I learned it doesn’t take alcohol and a violent temper to make someone’s life hell. Cruel at home, Christians in church. I seen it all, or at least I thought I did back then. Before this.”

He moved his hand up her thigh, until his fingertips disappeared under the hem of her shorts, dangerously close. “Ain’t all bad, though.”

“[i]Joey...baby,[/i]” she sang softly in her smokey voice, “[i]Don’t get crazy…[/i] I like it, it fits you.”

Laine smiled at the idea of him being a straightedge cowboy cop with the wide brimmed hat that came to her mind, a younger clean shaven version of the man beside her. 

“How strange it must have been for your old friends to see you in such a wholesome way,” she said, then gave him a wry grin that faded a bit, “I thought I’d seen it all, profiling killers and studying their victims is knowing them intimately, knowing what people can inflict on each other. I can’t imagine actually knowing them all personally.” 

Laine gazed at him as his fingers slipped under her shorts, the lace of the boy cut panties would greet them soon. She leaned in a little closer, dangling the empty cup from her fingertips. “You wanted to save the world. I remember.” 

“I did.” He said, slipping his fingertips from under Laine’s shorts to grab the whiskey, pouring her a shot and one for himself, “Still do.”

When the whiskey met his tongue, it burned the thoughts creeping in about Iraq. He set his cup down on the nightstand, now behind Laine, he walked on his knees across the bed and placed his hands over her shoulders, kneading the muscles in her shoulders. His hands moved to her neck and they brushed her hair aside as he leaned in to kiss the soft skin just under her ear. With such closeness, he could tell she’d put on a scent. Not that she had anything to cover up, to Donnelley, there wasn’t a thing she could do to herself that would make him turn away from her. His lips plodded along from her neck to her jaw, rough hand gently going around her neck, turning her head to the side so his lips could reach hers. He locked lips with her for a long moment and then broke away, Donnelley moving from the bed to close the drapes over the window, cutting off any light seeping out from between the blinds to the parking lot outside.

“I’d say we’re caught up with the meeting.” He smirked, “Anything else on Doctor Laine’s agenda for the night?”

Laine closed her eyes at the feeling of his hands rubbing the tension she carried in her shoulders, shivering slightly when he kissed her neck. The sensation from it made her inhale sharply, arching her neck back as he caressed her. Her eyes closed and she turned to meet his kiss, tasting the whiskey on his lips. 

She reached down to kick off the Converse sneakers, her toenails painted black like her fingernails. It was a silly teenage thing but when she was alone with Donnelley she felt like a girl again. Laine watched him close off the blinds, hiding their meeting from any prying eyes. 

“I can’t think of a damn thing that can’t wait,” she said, looking at him in his gym shorts. 

>2200...///

He rolled onto his side to face her, searching her face. He smiled at her, looking her naked body over as they basked in the afterglow with each other. He stayed silent, not knowing what else to say that they haven’t to each other. The way they looked at each other, how much they cared. They even talked of the future with each other. It was a dangerous game they were playing with so few ways to win, but so many to lose. He didn’t want to remind her of that, nor himself. He decided to switch subjects from themselves, at least for a bit. “I saw him do it this time.” He smirked, “I mean, we’re doin’ this, but… he kissed her. Right there.” He pointed at the foot of the bed.

“Should we just start doin’ shit like that?” He had to admit the openness of it, the brashness made him jealous.

At first Laine was not sure who he was talking about then the realization hit her and she smiled a bit, “The luxuries of not being the boss.”

She sighed, “Or the one wanting to be with the boss man.” 

“I remember Ava telling me about how she didn’t feel arousal,” she paused, glancing at Donnelley, “It was a private conversation, of course. She said she was on the asexual spectrum. I guess Dave found a way.”

She chuckled and lifted herself on her elbow to look down at Donnelley, “I mean, he’s very pretty. But I’m glad they’ve found solace and happiness in this bullshit. Lucky for them they don’t have to worry so much.” 

Laine kissed him lightly against his lips and nuzzled her soft mouth against his cheek, “We can’t do that.”

She sighed then, resting her head against his shoulder. “Unless we were not on the same team? Even then...I know how the government can be with relationships between subordinates and supervisors. It’s no go territory.” 

At the mention of Dave being pretty, Donnelley rose a brow and fixed Laine with a neat dose of side-eye before accepting her kiss. He let go a breath feeling her soft lips against his cheek, “Should know me by now. I like breakin’ rules.” He chuckled, “I’d never wanna be on another team. Away from you.”

He looked at her with sincerity then, searching her eyes, “Laine…” It wasn’t all he wanted to say, but for a few long moments it was all he could get out, “I, uh…”

He sighed, turning away from her to stare at the ceiling, shaking his head at himself, “I haven’t felt this way with another person for a long time.” He left it at that, not wanting to risk anything at all with such serious words as the most infamous three. He didn’t even know if she felt that way either, “I’m glad I met you. Maybe it could’ve been more romantic, but… we did meet.”

Laine touched his chest, grazing the fresh bandage of his wound and looked up when he said her name. She hugged her arm around his waist, snuggling closer as he spoke. Instinct told her what he wanted to say, the same thing she danced around, both of them tiptoeing along a razor’s edge. “I don’t want to be on another team, either,” she said, “You’re one of the big reasons I even stay, because I trust you. And I want to...be in this world with you.”

She touched a scar and traced it, tilting her head up to look at him as he stared at the ceiling. At his admission, Laine held her breath, thinking for a moment of Alex but it was not the same. There was more to Donnelley, a complexness that fascinated her and drew her in and kept her there with a warm companionable feeling. Her heart fluttered when he said it and she drew her leg over his, pressing her warm full thigh against his muscled leg. 

“You know, how many girls can say they met their man while going on a scavenger hunt for a zombie maker,” Laine said, huffing a small laugh then reached to stroke his face, “I don’t care, I’m just glad we met and at a time where...well, both of us being single.”

A blush touched her pale face, “But anyway, what would you have preferred, what sort of romantic meeting do you imagine?” 

Donnelley smiled at that, moving his hand to touch her thigh and slowly massage the muscle there, thinking. He clucked his tongue, “I don’t know, maybe…” he worked his jaw, “Maybe I’m on vacation in Barcelona, seein’ the sights. I’m on a walk and spot a nice restaurant, go in and wait for my table, I get brought back and get seated outside.”

“The warm sun’s shinin’ down because it’s summer, it’s warm. I’ve got shorts on and my button-down is buttoned tastefully low. I’m lookin’ over the menu and tryin’ to remember the lessons in Spanish I had before comin’ to Spain. You know, Rosetta Stone.” He chuckled, “But I get a sense that someone’s lookin’ at me. I’ve got a sense for it, bein’ the man who works for who he works for. I look up, just over my menu and scan the faces of the other people sittin’ down and havin’ lunch.”

He looked at Laine, holding her gaze as he spoke, soft and gentle, “And then I see these deep green eyes lookin’ over their own menu at me like a cat lookin’ over some tall grass. And these eyes, they’re beautiful. I can’t look away, I don’t even wanna blink because that’d mean not seein’ ‘em for even a fraction of a second.” He came closer to her, their faces inches away and he whispered, “I drop my menu, get up and sit with this woman, because somethin’ about her makes me brave. And even if she is there to honeypot some secrets out of me, those eyes make me helpless to stop her. Stop you.”

“By the end of our meetin’ we’ve laughed and we’ve shared emotions. I walk you back to your hotel and we hover by the door.” He closed the distance and kissed her, a gentle thing, soft and pulled away, “Until I do that.”

“Not like I think about it a lot.” He smiled at her, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and gave her another kiss.

Laine gazed at him as he told the story, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched the expressions play across his scarred face. She laughed softly at the idea of being a honeypot and brushed her hand against his chest where his heart was, returning his kiss. “What a romantic scene, like a movie.”

She smiled against his kiss, closing her eyes for a moment then said, “It’s beautiful but I’ll still always remember that moment when you covered me with your jacket and made sure I was safe and kept me from falling apart.”

Laine looked at him, her eyes searching his, “I’m not usually the kind of person that feels like...vulnerable, I try to cover it at least but with you... you do that but you make me feel safe. You’ve always made me feel safe.” 

He looked at her with a small smile, “You make me want to. Keep you safe. I know you’re no damsel, but,” he shook his head, “You do the same though. Make me vulnerable, you know how many psychologists and counselors try to dig around in my head and get nothin’?”

He chuckled then, a full smile showing his teeth, “In Baughman’s apartment, you remember? You just kept askin’ questions. Me, tryin’ to keep it business and all mysterious.” He said, looking at her laying there beside him, “You wouldn’t let the questions go. Maybe that’s why. Or somethin’ like that, but somethin’ about you just makes me feel like it’s okay to spill.”

He sighed, “You want a cigarette?”

Laine laughed softly at the memory, her eyes rolling a bit before she said, “You fascinated me right away, a new and unique specimen. I just wanted to know more about this Joseph Donnelley and I still do. And I’m very humbled that I helped you feel safe to tell me what’s inside. Because I will keep digging until you tell me to fuck off. Maybe.”

She grinned at him then nodded, “Yes, please. I forgot my smokes earlier then went swimming. I’m craving...at least one thing that hasn’t been satisfied.” 

Laine pushed herself up on her elbows, unashamed of her nudity and reached for the offered cigarette. “While we have this time and feel like talking, I want to know more.” 

She thought about asking about his childhood but remembered the story of the sausages and the deal with his dad. Laine veered to another path, giving him a playful smile,“What was your best day ever?” 

“I’ll tell you about it outside. I ain’t about to pay the exorbitant smokin’ fee.” He kissed her again and rose from the bed, rummaging around in his luggage for clothes to put on. He settled for the same ratty jeans he wore into the hotel and an Adicts shirt he’d cut into a tank top. Stuffing a cigarette in his mouth, he walked with Laine outside. The night air was cool and felt refreshing against his skin, he closed his eyes and breathed deep.

He lit his cigarette and took the first draw, “my best day ever…” he mused, kicking the toe of his Vans into the concrete of the parking lot. It was empty at this hour, and the moon shone bright down on them, bathing everything in pale white. “I know a good day, maybe wasn’t the best. Wasn’t close. It’s a long story.”

“I remember I was seventeen, my best friend went to Dallas to try to score some codeine. Everythin’ was fine when he left, asked him to get me some and bring it back. I guess the guy he was buyin’ from had some trouble on his head.” Donnelley frowned, taking another drag, “Some guys drove past his house and shot them. Heard about it from someone I knew in Dallas, went there soon as I could. There was enough spent brass on the street you’d have to go at it with a push broom. His name Was Eric Tingles, I shit you not, cops never believed him whenever we got arrested.”

“I went back, mad as all hell. Was gonna steal my dad’s gun, go out and shoot the first person I saw I thought could’ve done my friend.” He looked off at the road, eyes following a lone car passing them by into Washington. “‘Fore I could get goin’, my dad calls the cops about his gun. Deputy caught me on the road out of town on my bike, speeding. He found the gun, matched the description of my dad’s.”

“His name was Deputy Gracy, he knew my dad way back. Didn’t like him too much, and he knew how me and my pops were. Or more like how my pops was with me. He also knew it was my friend got killed a few nights ago.” Donnelley chuckled, looking at Laine as he took a drag and felt awkward as all hell to be answering her question like this, but he continued when she showed no signs of judgement, “Made me a deal. I give him the gun, he makes a phony arrest about some phony crime. Has me sit in the jail until his shift is over and then takes me out to breakfast.”

Donnelley took another drag, but couldn’t hold it, almost coughing out the smoke. He wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat, “He told me I was a good kid. Told me I didn’t deserve even half the shit done to me by the people that done it.” Donnelley swore under his breath and fell back against the wall wiping at his wet eyes again and spoke while looking down at his shoes, “Told me to make somethin’ out of myself, because he knew I could. Right after my eighteenth birthday, I went to the nearest recruiter. He came to my Graduation day, Deputy Gracy. Only one who did.”

“Only one who ever called me a good kid.” Donnelley said, quiet. “I’d like you to meet him if you ever do follow me to Texas. Closest thing I got to someone I could call dad.”

Laine listened quietly, watching him as he told his story. She held her cigarette between two fingers, letting the ash grow while he told her about Gracy and the encouragement he provided, the safety he never had before. She wanted to embrace him instead she crossed her arms, stepping closer until her elbow brushed him. 

Laine lay her free hand on his arm, she leaned closer to him, glancing out at the empty parking lot. “I’m sorry about your friend, too. That’s rough, really rough.”

“I’m glad you told me,” she said, “I would really like to meet Mr. Gracy, he sounds like a wonderful man, someone that gave you the support and love that you didn’t get at home. We all need that person.”

After a moment of silence, she took a drag and flicked the ashes away from him, “Do you go back to see Gracy much? Between all your spook jobs and the Program?” 

Donnelley smiled at Laine’s hand and then looked her in the eyes before taking a drag, looking at the empty road of this sleepy town, “Emails mostly. Old asshole won’t get a smartphone or a plan. Smart, if you ask me, but I’m pretty sure nobody’s gunnin’ for an ex-small town sheriff.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memories of serving under him as a Deputy, “I should go more often though.”

He looked at Laine, “What about you? Doctor Heather Laine’s best day ever?”

Laine smiled at that, bringing the cigarette up to her lips, “Reminds me of my Dad, he likes to call and talk, won’t use texts or anything. It’s not like he can’t, he’s computer competent, but he just likes to talk to me.” 

She blew out a stream of smoke and pondered the question, “That’s hard to pin down, but I can tell you what my favorite day was when I was a kid. Sundays. My mom didn’t like going to church, she liked mimosas and sleeping in. So my Dad would take my brother and I to church, not just the local Methodist but Catholic, Baptist, spiritualists, Hindu temples...I think he just liked seeing the flair of it, he’s a big fantasy nerd, you know. Sometimes it wasn’t church, we would go to a museum or some place of interest. Then we’d go to the beach and get ice cream. Us three, just walking along the shore and dodging sea gulls. Didn’t matter if it was summer or winter, if it rained we hung out at the boardwalk and he’d just talk to us. He never talked much at home, my mom...well, she’s difficult. Classic narcissistic personality.”

Laine smiled slightly, “My brother kinda outgrew it after awhile so then it was just me and Dad. He’d tell me stories, you know? About his life, his parents, and just whatever came to mind. We’d hang out, even when I’d come home from college. Those were my favorite days, no matter what I could count on those Sundays.” 

She stayed quiet for a moment then glanced at Donnelley, “Was that cheating? I know it’s not just one day, but it was something I remember fondly.” 

Laine finished her cigarette, dropping it to grind it against the concrete with her sneaker before picking it back up.

“I like it. I like your dad, sounds like a good person.” He smiled, taking his last few drags one after another and pinched the cherry out, “Now I’m lookin’ forward to meetin’ him whenever we do that.”

He looked out at the parking lot, at the Chevy Malibu parked there and smirked at Laine, “If you’re wonderin’ where Avery is, he’s in my car. Figure he could use some time alone.” He yawned, stretching until his shoulder popped, “I should turn in soon. I haven’t slept much. You, um, sleepin’ with me tonight or you got a room?”

Laine smiled at that, “He is a good guy, just...well, he’s been a good father, even with all the work he does. He always made time for us. I’m sure he’d like you, he likes a quick wit.” 

“I was wondering,” she said, stepping out to see where the car was, “He’s been drinking a lot since we got here. I tried talking to him, he’s having a hard time with...well, with everything. Feeling like he’s not doing a good job. Everything we’ve all felt. He’s internalizing it, medicating himself with booze. I don’t think I helped much, he needs you...needs another man who has been through it, I think.” 

Laine moved back over to him, a slight wry smile turning up a corner of her mouth, “A man’s ego can be fragile.” 

She glanced up, surprised at his offer and she looked over at the car, “Avery and I have been sharing a room, Dave and Ava took one together.”

Laine glanced at him at that then rubbed her shoulder against his as she moved beside him, “I’ll set my alarm early, he won’t notice I’m not in my bed.”

She turned on the ball of her foot, glancing over her shoulder at him, “Should I bother getting my pajamas?” 

“We plannin’ on needin’ clothes?” Donnelley smirked.