[h3]Some Time for Us...[/h3] >SHARPS ROASTHOUSE >SEATAC, WA >1400.../// Donnelley was quiet, the only sound in the car was an angry song yelling out its discontent at society turned down to a whisper. Wipers beat and screeched across the windshield as the rain poured out of the sky. There was a restaurant Donnelley had given Laine the address to, and it seemed like she’d made it first, sitting in her own rental car in the crowded parking lot. Donnelley parked his own car some ways away and walked to her passenger door, rapping a knuckle on the glass. When she disengaged the locks, he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. He didn’t reach across to her like she did with him those months ago in West Virginia. He just looked out the windshield and then shook his head, looking down at his callused hands, “Should I have said somethin’ more?” He asked, “Protested harder? Submitted some fuckin’ paperwork [i]at least?[/i]” Laine waited in the car, watching the rain drops chase each other down the windshield, splitting around the still wipers. The music played without her listening and she was deep in her thoughts when the knock startled her. She jumped, green eyes in a pale face staring back at Donnelley from the otherside of the window. She said nothing as he settled in, only reaching to turn down the volume of the rental’s stereo, her old mp3 player resting in the cupholder. Her own thoughts were not far from his and she waited a moment before speaking. “Do you think that would have helped?” she asked, looking over at him. “You know how these things work, do you think protest and paperwork would have kept someone from having us killed?” Laine shook her head slightly, “Whatever is going on, I’d be willing to bet there’s no other working group on this case.” She brushed her hand lightly over her face, as if swiping at a spiderweb. “It’s like what Dawant said, how he was pushed out. I’ve seen it before or versions of it in local police departments like his and beyond. I would love to say the Bureau was not touched by such corruption but I highly doubt it.” Laine sighed and leaned her elbow against the door, “Do you know what I did before going to the BAU? I’m sure you read my file, the diligent team lead that you are. Well, I worked at the LA field office for the first three or so years, I was on task forces dedicated to missing and exploited children and human trafficking, which I can tell you is a huge problem in and around Los Angeles.” She pressed her thumb against her lips, “I don’t like talking about it because no one wants to hear about it. Those words like trafficking and exploitation, they do nothing to convey the reality of what it’s about. It doesn’t tell you about listening to broken parents like Armando begging for their children back. It doesn’t show you the fucking countless videos and pictures of children being raped and tortured. It doesn’t...it doesn’t convey the impact of listening to a six year old girl talk about how a man raped her and how strong she is because she is willing to stand up and testify in court because she doesn’t want that bad man to hurt other kids.” Tears filled her eyes and she rubbed at them, mindless of the smudging eyeliner, “That was my job, to find the monsters and be the voice of those children. And after a while, I just couldn’t do it anymore. Because for every one we managed to catch and gather evidence and lock up, how many more slipped through the cracks, how many had connections and wealth enough to make it go away.” Laine pressed her trembling hand against her thigh, “I moved to Unit 2 to get away from it, I’d rather face crimes against adults, as horrible as they are. I couldn’t take looking at another abused murdered child and feeling so fucking helpless against the tide of what caused it. A lot of it was organized crime, pedophile rings that do exist and aren’t just conspiracy bullshit but we can’t touch them because someone got elected and someone has too much money invested in some place.” She shrugged, then shook her head, “People will kill to keep their crimes a secret, that I do know.” Donnelley nodded. Gregory Morales. Just another name that kept him up at night, but so much more to whoever’s car seat that was there the day he died for helping the wrong man, “Yeah, they will.” Donnelley took his own pack of cigarettes out of his hoodie pocket, bit one out of the pack and cracked the window as he lit it. He remembered the fight in the parking lot, leaving the Russian in the Alaska woods after fleeing a Walmart to get away from any cops unfortunate enough to be just doing their jobs that day. Remembered how Laine had run him over. “Was that your first?” He asked, “In Alaska. The Russian in the parking lot?” She was digging out her own pack, the cloves familiar and comforting and thankfully still available in Seattle hoodrat gas stations around SeaTac. Laine paused when he asked, rolling the black cigarette between her fingers. Her first was not the Russian, it was some poor Alaskan sex worker that got vanished so that she could return from the dead. But at least by her own hand, it was the Russian. The memory of the sensation of the bumping tires made her stomach clench, as if in a dropping elevator. Laine put the cigarette between her plush lips, then looked at him for a light with a small nod of her head. He flicked his lighter and let the flame kiss the end of her cigarette, and he could already smell the cloves that would forever remind him of Laine. “My first enlistment in the Army I never killed anyone. Weren’t any big enough wars for the unit I was in.” Donnelley shook his head, and stared at the drops running down the windshield of Laine’s rental. He’d pay for the smell of burnt tobacco they’d leave, his need for a cigarette had only grown since Hillgrove Cemetery. “It was my first couple months as a Deputy in Dallard County. Some guy in Dallas had taken a little girl and ran away with her. Me and Sheriff Gracy caught him racin’ southwest on the highway out of Dallas.” “Chased him down in our cruisers all the way out there into the fuckin’ country.” Donnelley said, “It came down the channels that it was the girl’s father. Alcoholic, on probation after a DUI charge with assault. Mother was a drug addict. He led us all south to Hillsboro.” “There weren’t any good guys in that scenario, other than what we all thought so highly of ourselves to be. Him savin’ his little girl, us stoppin’ a kidnappin’. I didn’t know all that about him and the girl, and the mother then, but I still didn’t want to do it.” Donnelley just shook his head and stared, “He knew he was done when he saw the roadblock on the way into Hillsboro. Opened his door and pointed a weapon. He was probably dead ‘fore he hit the dirt. Emptied my magazine.” “Didn’t want to. Had to. Me or him, y’know?” Donnelley said, sighing and looking down at his lap, taking a hard drag on his cigarette, “I’m sorry you had to do that in Alaska. But you did that for me, and I owe you.” Laine listened and watched him, his profile that was so familiar and dear to her. She took a drag and blew the smoke towards the cracked window. “I didn’t want to but I’d do it again,” she said, then glanced at him. “I would do it again for you. Hell...it bothers me but I don’t regret it.” She balanced the black cigarette between her fingers and glanced at him. “I guess that makes me a bit of a hypocrite doesn’t it?” Donnelley looked at her and shook his head, “No.” he said, looking away from her, “You’d have to do a lot more to be hypocritical with me.” He cleared his throat after a moment of silence, taking one last drag and pinching out the cherry, putting the cigarette into a ziploc like he did. “Let’s go have somethin’ to eat. Make like we’re just a normal couple on a date and the only thing botherin’ us is the rain.” He tried a smile with her, reaching towards her hand, “How does that sound?” Laine put out her cigarette and gestured for his ziploc, “You got me doing it now.” She sighed, the heaviness of the day still weighing on her but smiled a little at his suggestion. “That sounds like something I need right now. At least one thing.” Laine unbuckled herself then took his hand, her thumb grazing over the top as she said, “We leave this in the car, right? Let’s talk about other things, anything else.” She unlocked the doors and let go of his hand, stepping into the misting rain. Laine waited for him offering her hand to hold as they crossed the parking lot. ”Think it’ll be alright?” “Everythin’s fine, remember?” Donnelley took Laine’s hand with a smile, “It’s just us. That’s all I need right now.” Once inside and seated, Donnelley wasted no time in ordering his usual. The Sinatra, a big square of frozen stone resting in two fingers of bourbon and a splash of bitters. Quick and to the point. He took his first sip and looked across the table at Laine, alone in the corner of the bar, “So, what’s the first thing you’re goin’ to do when you get home?” Laine ordered a zombie, a fruity rum drink that was strong enough to make her feel fuzzy and push the shadows back. She held the half filled glass and considered his question. “Probably take a bubble bath and walk around my apartment naked. I love the team but I do miss living alone sometimes.” Her green eyes flicked to him, “Not that I wouldn’t want certain company but after that, I’ll probably check in at the office and deal with whatever is waiting for me there.” She took a sip, the tropical flavors defying the gloomy light from the windows. “Ghost [i]offered[/i] to train Ava and I, so I suppose we’ll be doing that at some point. He seemed very put off by the idea we would be on the same team.” Laine idly opened the menu that rested on the table, “Couldn’t hurt to be more prepared. I’m going to probably sign up for a personal trainer so I can get ready before I have to train with him. Just a wild guess that he’ll be merciless.” “Just ask Dave. Me and Ghost put him through the rounds whenever we could.” Donnelley chuckled, “Shoulda seen his first time. It wasn’t [i]bad[/i], but it wasn’t good neither. You’ll be fine.” She stirred the cocktail with the swizzle stick and laughed a little, “I suppose it won’t be much worse than being back at the Academy except with those Oakleys watching everything.” Laine took a sip, then muttered, “Well, he did give me pointers in weight lifting and wasn’t weird about it. Better him than Poker, I guess. He kinda gives me a bad vibe. I know he’s your old team leader just...you know, you get a feeling for how someone looks at you.” She went back to the menu, “I don’t really have any grand plans past spending some time with you before going home.” Laine glanced across the table at him, “What about you?” Donnelley frowned in contemplation, looking up and away before he sipped at his drink and shook his head, “I don’t know. I guess I don’t have any plans either except for whatever you have for me while you’re here,” he smiled, chuckling a bit, “I guess since I’m on leave with the Company too… I’ve got some free time.” His smirk drooped a bit, “Maybe I’ll… come visit you and Ava. Road trip, come bother my team across the country.” He perked up again, though he really didn’t know what he was going to do with himself with so much free time. The last time he had any time to himself he spent it doing drugs and fucking prostitutes, but that hardly held the same enticement ever since the case, “Yeah, I don’t know. I’ll think of something, you know I can find ways of gettin’ into trouble.” He smirked. Laine raised her eyebrow, "Oh, you're going to let me be in charge of what we get up to while I'm here?" A slow smile grew before she masked it by taking a drink. "I'd like it if you did visit, I wasn't joking about wanting your company. As for you getting into trouble, I have no doubts. Just make sure you can get out of it." The waitress appeared, giving them a warm practiced smile, "Were you ready to order or did you need some more time?" "I'll have the pineapple pulled pork with the proper greens salad and another zombie, thanks," Laine replied. The waitress wrote it down and glanced at Donnelley, "And what would you like, sir?" Laine tried not to grin and preoccupied herself looking at her phone until he was done ordering and the waitress gathered their menus and left. She finally looked across at him, her green eyes twinkling, "That's my line." “Yeah?” Donnelley chuckled as he finished taking a long sip from his drink and winked at her, “I guess I can let you dictate what we get to do. I might like whatever you think up.” Laine bit her lower lip and swirled the ice in her glass, "I think you might. First thing though we need to get a room. Another shitty motel or something else?" “My place?” Donnelley quirked a brow. She’d invited him into her home, only felt right for him to return the favor. Besides, what he wanted to do would be better with some privacy, “Besides, motels around here are a special type of shitty.” Laine blinked at his offer then smiled warmly, "Yeah, I'd like that. Much better than a shitty motel. Maybe we'll pick up a few things and cook breakfast together tomorrow." The idea of even just a night or two of some sort of normal domestic bliss after the hell they had been through in Alaska was like water to a parched man. She wanted it more than anything right now just to stop and breathe with the man she loved. Donnelley grinned wide at that thought of spending a night and having breakfast with Laine, “I’d love that.” He said, smiling at her and then finishing the last of his drink, enjoying the heaviness in his limbs and the subtle giddiness. He reached across the table and rested his hand on hers, “More’n anythin’.” >.../// Laine drove behind Donnelley as he led the way to his house. In the backseat were some groceries and necessities from a quick stop at the store where he pushed the cart and she picked from the shelves. The rain had finally lifted, leaving the air cool and breezy, washing it clean. She allowed brief thought to paranoia that the Program was watching and waiting to catch her and Donnelley together. But from what she had seen, a little daring was needed. Donnelley took them down a few residential roads. It had been a few miles drive from the grocery store until they finally got to Donnelley’s home. Pulling into the empty driveway, it had just enough space for their two cars. “Well, this is it.” Donnelley smirked at the modest one-story. “My palace is out back.” He chuckled, taking almost all the bags in the back of Laine’s car in one trip. It had been a habit both of efficiency and laziness since he’d been stationed in Fort Campbell, or moved to Seattle shortly after being discharged and the divorce that followed on its heels. But he wasn’t thinking about that now. The house inside was some kind of halfway between bare and lived-in. There were still a few pieces of furniture, a television. Though, most of the rooms that weren’t the master bedroom, the kitchen, or the living room were completely empty. In one particular room, there was a large safe and a few gun cases leaning beside it. Donnelley only poked his head inside and told Laine he kept his guns and a few other things inside the room. Not much else. “I’m gonna slip into somethin’ a bit more comfortable.” Laine followed him, carrying her laptop bag and her duffel over her shoulder as he carried the groceries. She looked over the front of the house, it was still in good repair but she could tell there was some neglect, that it had not been occupied for any great lengths at a time. She smiled as he led her through, “So this is Casa de Donnelley.” As she followed him, she noticed the half empty state of things, a life cut in half and only one still remained here. Putting that in the back of her mind, they were here for themselves not anyone else. She admired the set of his shoulders and the flex of his triceps as he carried the bags all at once and dropped them off in the kitchen. Laine chuckled and shook her head, “Of course you have a room just for guns.” When he left to change, she went to the bathroom to freshen up, digging through her duffel for a change of clothes and her toothbrush. Laine changed down to underwear, a pair of black boy cut shorts, and an oversized Smiths t-shirt that fell just to her hips and hung slightly off one shoulder. It was one she bought back in Idaho, at the little boutique close to the campus. It felt like months but it had only been just over two weeks since they left Muru with Sobel. Laine looked at the mirrored medicine cabinet and the temptation to take a peek was strong. Pulling herself away, she stepped out of the bathroom, now barefoot and much more comfortable. She went back towards the kitchen to put away the perishables in case he had not. She found Donnelley doing what she was thinking of doing, putting the last carton of milk away and then dumping the old one. It had a fair amount of chunks, speaking to the amount of time Donnelley had been away from this place. He smirked sheepishly at her as he did, the chunks making audible slaps into the metal kitchen sink, “Sorry. It’s, um,” Donnelley cleared his throat, “Been a bit since I’ve been here.” Laine grimaced, “It’s cottage cheese by now.” She touched the table top and noticed the dust, then went to get a paper towel and bent to look in the cupboard for a dust spray. “How long has it been since you’ve been home?” Without a word she began cleaning the table, wiping it down. She leaned over it, reaching to get in the middle. “When was the first time you called me? After our first adventure?” He said, smashing the carton and putting it into the recycling bin. He searched around for his fancy glasses and mugs, not exactly wanting to have to pass the bottle between him and Laine. She deserved some modicum of hospitality. “You like mules?” He opened a pantry and finally found them, the amount of time he’d been absent let him forget a lot about this place, “Because I like mules.” He grabbed two of the copper mugs and left the kitchen to find his fancier whiskeys. Finishing the wipe down, she looked over her shoulder, “When I called you from Seattle? I remember that, I think I woke you up. Still stirring over the Childress case, another one taken.” She stopped herself then tossed the paper towel in the trash can and rinsed her hands. Laine put her hands on her hips, the shirt scrunching up to show off her thighs. “I do like mules, but you know what else I like?” Laine smiled slightly, looking him over and bit her lip. She moved closer and watched his body as he moved, admiring his form. Her gaze settled for a moment on the still fresh scar of the bullet wound then moved down. Donnelley smiled to himself when he caught Laine staring, eyeing him like a piece of meat. He turned around with the two copper mugs in one hand, the bottle of Bulleit bourbon in the other, “Is it me?” He asked sarcastically, “I hope it’s me.” She laughed, her green eyes gleaming as she looked him over again, “It is definitely you.” Laine pulled a chair out and sat down, pretending not to feel the chill on the bare expanse of her legs as she crossed them. Propping her elbow on the table, resting her chin against her fist, she said, “Now let’s see the bartender skills.” “Well,” he said, placing down the two copper mugs and the bourbon, “The most integral part of the mule, in my opinion, is the copper mug. Just ain’t the same without it.” He eyeballed two shots into each of the mugs, “Oh, almost forgot,” he rushed back to the kitchen and then returned with two bottles of ginger beer, “And this too, splash of lime to go with it.” “We forgot mint leaves, else I’d have some garnish and I could [i]really[/i] woo you.” Donnelley snorted, passing Laine her mug and setting it down in front of her, “I hope I didn’t fall short of my reputation.” He sipped at his mug and then added a bit more whiskey, “How’s it?” Laine took a sip, tasting it then licked her lips, “Pretty damn good. I’ve never had it with whiskey.” “I’ll excuse the lack of mint leaves since you’re cute,” she smiled and took another drink, “Thank you, by the way, for having me in your house. So, do I get to dig through your record collection or your photo albums now?” “You know, flirtin’ with the bartender might get you some perks here next time you come around.” He winked, smiling at her as he took a big gulp of his drink and sighed. At her question, he shrugged, “Yeah, why not, I’ll let you judge me mercilessly.” “Should be in a box in the bedroom, come on.” Donnelley waved Laine with him as he went. When they got to the master bedroom, Donnelley slid the closet door open, pulling two boxes out packed to the brim with records. “Have at it.” He chuckled. Laine clapped her hands and picked up her mug to follow him back to the bedroom, “I will be without mercy.” She stepped into the room giving the large bed a once over then turned to him pulling out the big cardboard boxes. A big smile grew on her face and she knelt beside one, “Is this the Black Flag album you stole from that car when you were a teen?” Laine began pulling the records out so she could see the art and the titles, her eyes lighting up as she exclaimed, “Oh shit, tell me you have a record player. We’re playing some of these.” She pulled out a familiar cover, “Got some Cramps, I love it. Oh shit.” Laine picked up an album that was worn at the corners, fuzzy cardboard and teal color, “A first pressing of Minor Threat, badass.” She continued going through them, selecting a few more and picked up a few more. “What’s this? The Funky Aztecs?” Donnelley ripped his attention away from her very visible backside in the boy cut panties as she bent and reached going through his record collection. She might have noticed the consequences of her choice in attire down below his belt line. He shook his head and looked at what she was holding, chuckling, “Holy shit, yeah. Nor’ Califas, these guys had a song with 2Pac.” He said, looking at the cover art for their Chicano Blues album, “I can’t be punk all the time. I even have some Parliament in there somewhere.” Laine slid it back into the box and hunted for the Parliament, leaning forward on purpose then glanced at him, a little smile appearing on her lush lips. The basketball shorts did not hide much. “I like a good funk,” she said, “And I like your variety.” She looked over at him standing there and then shifted up to her knees, looking up at him, “I like those shorts, too.” Raising an eyebrow she reached up and gave him a stroke down the front of his shorts then stopped, “So let’s drink and listen to your records.” Donnelley bit his lip and moaned under his breath as Laine touched him through his shorts. He’d forwent the underwear again, and the two of them could feel all of it. He chuckled as Laine looked up at him, “I’ll get my player, make yourself comfortable.” She grinned at his reaction and the sensation of him through the fabric. Laine sank back to her heels, then picked up her copper mug taking a drink as he went to get his record player. Her mind was getting a little fuzzy and she watched with a little smile on her face. When he returned and plugged in the machine, she handed him a record and waited until he turned back around. The slight static, the warm crisp vinyl sound as the music from the Cramps [I]Bad Music from Bad People[/I] started up. She curled her finger, beckoning him over. Laine looked up at him, reaching to run her fingers along his waistband. “Just like being teens again, right?” She ran her hand down the silky material, feeling him and kissed his stomach, feeling the gingery hair below his navel tickle her nose as she moved downward, then made a soft moaning purr as she rubbed against him through the fabric. “I’ve been wanting to touch you for so long, sir.” He set his mug down as Laine fondled him through his shorts, watching her with a smirk and feeling himself growing with her touch. He lay a gentle hand on her cheek as he stepped a bit closer, what was behind his shorts dangerously close to her, “I’ve been wanting you to touch me for so long.” He bent down and locked his lips with hers in a deep kiss, pulling back and leaning close to her ear, “I love you, Laine.” Without telling her, he grabbed her up with relative ease and then set himself on the couch where she had been sitting. Now, he smiled at her as she straddled his lap, no doubt feeling him and how hard he was beneath the shorts. It felt so right, and so freeing to be able to say what he felt. And being able to say it however he wanted without worrying someone was listening in at every waking moment. If there was one blessing behind the infuriating circumstances of being put on leave, it was being able to spend time like this with Laine. The woman he loved. And fuck loud. >.../// He reached over to Laine and gently pulled her on top of him. He smiled at the weight of her and the feeling of her slick skin on his own. He looked down at her on his chest, his blue eyes weighed down with exhaustion from how much Laine had worn him out. “I love you, Laine.” He said softly. When he pulled her over to him, she hugged him. They were both hot and sweaty but it was worth it to feel the intimacy that glowed between them. Laine gazed down at him, smiling with an indulgent expression before kissing him. “I love you, too,” she murmured. “I love you, Joey.” She pushed herself up, her breasts resting against his chest and looked him over, “It’s going to be really hard hiding this now.” He shrugged and shook his head, “Let’s just be happy we don’t have to right now,” he said with a smile, leaning in and kissing her softly, “God, you tire me out in the best of ways, Laine.” “I am happy,” she said, then grinned down at him returning his kiss, “You make me happy, and make me so wonderfully sore.” Laine nuzzled against him and kissed along his collarbone then lower to the scar, kissing it lightly then lay her head against his chest. He quivered softly with a smile at the feeling of her soft, plump lips against his sweat-slick skin, and hugged her tight as she rested against his chest, “We’re like a couple of high school sweethearts, you and me.” Donnelley chuckled, then turned a tad serious through his smile, “Can I admit somethin’?” She chuckled softly, “We are. Everytime we’re alone together I feel like I’m sneaking around to see my bad boy boyfriend and hide it from my parents.” Laine glanced up at him, her green eyes warm with affection, “Of course you can.” Donnelley chewed over his phrasing, rolling his jaw and grunting as he knew it would make things easier just to spit it out, “When me and Dave were talkin’ by the fire in Alaska,” Donnelley cringed a tad, not knowing how Laine would react, “He knows. I told him.” “I just couldn’t keep it hidden.” He explained hastily, “Just seein’ him and Ava frolickin’ around with each other like that. It’s just… I was jealous. Hell, I’ll still be when we go back to the grindstone. I couldn’t keep it in, one part accident and… I don’t know.” “I hate actin’ like we have a distance between you and me when all I want to do is hold you.” He said, looking away from her, “I’m sorry.” Laine stared at him and closed her eyes, nodding slightly. She sighed then kissed the spot in the center of his chest, the ginger hairs tickling her nose. “You shouldn’t have done that but I can understand it. I hate pretending that you’re just my team lead. Sometimes I want to just hold you and I get so frustrated. Especially after what we went through. What you went through seeing it...remembering.” She scooted up and kissed his lips lightly then more firm, “I don’t think Dave will tell anyone. At least not on purpose.” Donnelley sighed, “Sure hope not.” Donnelley stared up at the ceiling, wondering when the last time he’d slept in this bed was. Returning here for the first time was like walking into a mausoleum, haunted by a life that had ended eight years ago. He looked back down at Laine and smiled, hugging her close for a moment, “I’m so glad.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the giddy feelings that Laine always gave him, “I’m glad we met.” Laine smiled at him, thoughts of Dave and their secret slipping away as he hugged her. “Me too,” she sighed, and reached up to brush her hand along the side of his face, “We’ve had our moments, but I knew you were worth getting to know.” She kissed him then kissed his scarred cheek, laying against him for a while until she felt sticky from the sweat and his semen. Laine finally lifted her head, “I’m going to take a quick shower. I think we earned a nap.” “Mind if I join you?” Donnelley asked. Laine slid off the bed, naked and from his perspective he would see how he left her. She turned and curled her finger at him, beckoning him to follow to the bathroom. >SEP152019 >1200.../// The nap turned into just staying in bed cuddling and watching Netflix until they fell asleep again. Laine woke first, leaving Donnelley snoring lightly as she went to start breakfast. She wore one of his old Black Flag t-shirt and a pair of black bikini panties with a cartoon devil on the front. She found in that drawer of faded band shirts she found a shoebox of cassettes. Most were hand labeled, mixtapes of a variety of genres but mostly punk and hardcore. She set it on the kitchen table while she cooked, breakfast never took long with quick eggs and bacon and putting blueberry bagels in the toaster. Laine hunted up a dusty boombox and plugged it in, trying out the tape player. She was listening to a mix of familiar west coast bands as she sipped coffee and went through the others. Laine paused and picked one up, a familiar but much younger face among a group of other boys glowering into the camera in a black and white xeroxed flyer folded up and made into a cassette cover. A grin spread across her face and she popped out the mix tape and put in the DIY recording and cranked it up. The low chuggy hard core began and Laine stood up, removing the bacon onto paper towels and stirred the eggs before turning off the heat and plating them. If the smell of food didn’t wake him then maybe a ghost from the past howling would. It only took a few moments of the thick, chugging riff before Donnelley rounded the corner into the kitchen, pantomiming playing a guitar and bobbing his head. When the lyrics came in on the second verse, he growled along with a smirk as he closed in on Laine, “[i]Kill them all! Slit their throats! Drink their blood! Make them ghosts! Make them pay, for what they’ve done! Don’t look back ‘til what’s done is done![/i]” He laughed and grabbed Laine into a hug and then kissed her. “That is a one of a kind recordin’ of the band Reagan’s Grave.” Donnelley smiled and bobbed his head to the song again, folding his arms, “My best friend, partner-in-crime, and brother-in-blood Eric was the vocalist. Guess who was makin’ them head-smashin’ riffs.” Laine turned when he entered the kitchen singing along and sweeping her into an embrace. She laughed and stuck a cube of honeydew melon towards his mouth. "Let me guess I'm basking in the presence of the shred master himself," she said, the pleased expression on her face. "I found that little gem in a shoebox when I borrowed your shirt. So tell me about this Eric and Reagan's Grave. I love a hot guy in a band." “Damn right y’are,” he said, leaning over and taking the honeydew into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, “Eric was my friend who got killed in Dallas. Me and him started that band with another one of our friends named Ernesto, he’s on drums.” “We played a few house shows in Dallard County and left a wake of trashed basements and smashed forty-ounces wherever we went.” He smiled. She smiled at his recollection, the memory of what he told her about the friend he lost was not forgotten. Laine served the food, bacon and eggs with blueberry bagels and cream cheese and some cut up fruit. After the night they had she was starving. "That must have been a lot of fun while it lasted. Those types of backyard shows were always a blast," she said, setting the plates on the table and offering him a cup of coffee. "Do you still play guitar?" “Not often. I probably forgot most of what I had.” He smiled sheepishly, watching her set the table, how she moved, how she looked in the morning light, “I could pick it up if I had the time.” Donnelley frowned then, and then snorted, “I guess that’s one thing I got now. Time. Can’t even do shit for my day job.” Laine came up beside him and handed him his coffee, her free hand tousling his ginger hair and noticed a fleck of ash among the fire. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the head and moved to her chair. “In all honesty, you could use a little vacation, but I understand. Idle hands and all that devils work.” She smiled a little at him then winced as she sat down, shifting slightly so she leaned and crossed her legs. “I do have to get back to my day job but after that visit with Dawant yesterday, I’m not done with Maria’s case. Not by a long shot.” Picking up her fork, she eyed him, “I promise I won’t go getting in the [i]other[/i] working group’s way, but I have resources of my own with the Bureau. We might not have the original files or the physical evidence to look at but I’ve saved most of everything I could have photographed and written down. Once I get back to Virginia, I’m going to talk to Ava about making us some sort of secure cloud storage. Just in case.” Her serious tone lightened as she began to eat, “But look, that’s not now. Today, I want to spend a day with you. Show me your motorcycle, play me a song. A walk on the beach? Anything but what we’ll be dealing with soon enough.” He chuckled at Laine’s reminder that this time was for them, and them only. He sipped at his coffee and sat across from her at the dinner table. He had to sit there for a moment, not remembering the last time he felt so right staying in this house and sleeping in that bed. He could always fall asleep so easy, and wake up so contentedly with Laine next to him. “A walk on the beach sounds good, go over to Ruston Way and see the sights.” He smiled, “It’s a nice day out, could take my motorcycle there and ride the waterfront.” Laine grinned, “I get to ride on your bike? Hell yeah.” She leaned back and chewed the bagel, “I love a bad boy who plays in a punk band and rides a motorcycle. That sounds like a good plan, you know. I’ve never been out here other than for work so I would love to see the sights.” He winked, “It’s a plan then.” >1700.../// The sun glinted off the water below in the green waters of Puget Sound. Donnelley had laughed when Laine first smelled something off on the air when they approached Tacoma, and he explained that’s just how the city smelled ever since he could remember. The Aroma of Tacoma, the citizens had taken to calling it, turning the acrid stench the city had sometimes into something endearing. By now they hardly noticed it as they sat on the concrete outcropping facing the waves and the beach. The takeout boxes of fish and chips they’d gotten sat empty next to their beer bottles. “I remember when I first moved up here from Kentucky after my discharge.” Donnelley spoke before taking a drag off his cigarette, “Couldn’t fuckin’ stand the smell when we came here.” Couldn’t stand a lot of things. Him and his wife couldn’t stand each other, and they’d tried to stay together for Tilly, but it worked out about as well as anyone would expect. Even if they’d moved away from Fort Campbell, moved away from the constant reminders of what his military service had brought him after Afghanistan and Pakistan, he couldn’t move away from himself. It took a year to figure that out. He looked at Laine and then smiled, reaching a hand over to place it on her thigh. This wasn’t about anything else but him and Laine, “Just give it some time and you’ll start to miss this smell.” Laine wiped her mouth after taking a sip of the local brew, Mac & Jacks Serengeti Wheat which went well with the fried fish she drenched in lemon and malt vinegar. She inhaled then scrunched her nose, “What is it? It’s almost sulphurous. It doesn’t have the same stink as LA, it’s actually worse.” She chuckled and raised her brows, “I don’t think I would miss it, but it’s certainly memorable.” Following his example, she lit a clove cigarette, the strong spicy scent blotting out the rotten egg backwater stench. “It is a nice view though, a lot different than our beaches.” When the wind shifted the scent of the ocean came with it, the salt and the rich scent of life. “I like all the trees here,” Laine said, “They just feel so old.” Donnelley nodded, “Yeah, I don’t really know what it is either. Always chalked it up to low tide or somethin’, but I was never really sure.” Donnelley chuckled, taking another drag and breathing it out onto the winds, “A lot of history here if you know where to look.” “That it could be,” she agreed, shifting to sit closer to him and put her cigarette between her fingers, letting it smolder. “You know, in California, they don’t seem to dwell on history too much, it’s always what’s next. What’s the next big thing. Maybe it’s an LA thing, but for a place where the sun sets, it is always looking ahead. Probably to its own detriment.” Laine leaned back on her free hand, looking over the green and gray landscape, the cold ocean lapping at the stoney beach. She watched the water, secretly hoping to see the dorsal of a killer whale but so far nothing but a bald eagle that had soared overhead before heading out over the sound. “You know, you should visit sometime. I know I’ve mentioned it before,” Laine said, bringing the clove cigarette to her full lips and glanced at him. Donnelley shrugged, “I dunno. Y’think a simple country feller like me’d be able to make it in that there concrete jungle?” He smirked sidelong at Laine and then chuckled, shaking his head, “Yeah, I could. Maybe you could show me around?” She chuckled and shook her head, “Please, I love the idea of corrupting a small town boy. But yeah, it’d be fun, there’s a lot to see. Sometime we will but first I’m owed a trip to Dalhart. Yeehaw.” Laine raised her foot, now clad in a Converse sneaker but she still was holding onto the cowgirl boots she had bought in Idaho and kept a secret this whole time. A gleam in her eyes appeared as she looked at him, “You think a city girl like me could make it in that rough and tumble frontier town?” Donnelley grinned, “Yeah, I got my six-shooters just in case we run into any bandits or Comanches.” Laine laughed, “You and your arsenal of [i]peacemakers[/i].” She learned back to admire the view, something about water meeting earth that always made her feel more calm. Laine spent countless hours of her youth on the coasts of California and later on Virginia beaches and waterfronts. The Puget Sound was different from both of those, with the distant snow capped Rainier and the pebbled beach with logs of driftwood that made convenient benches. “I was thinking,” she said after a moment, “Maybe giving Ava a call and see how they’re doing. I’ll bet you they’re cozied up in some hotel room. But then I also worry about treading on their time, I’m enjoying it just being us.” Laine smiled a little sheepishly, looking away from him, “I got to be a real mother hen, it’s annoying.” Donnelley snorted a laugh and took another drag, speaking through the cloud of smoke, “Let’s just enjoy this for now. Just us. We don’t get this often.” He said, looking at Laine and leaning in to kiss her, “I want as much as time as we can get for me to say that I love you.”