| Down to the wire. |
[03 Sep 2006|12:34am] |
Brown eyes blinked open and adjusted to the darkness. The clock on the bedside table read 5:03am.
Meredith lay on her side in a strange bed which had grown oddly familiar to her over time. The spare bedroom in Lorne's apartment had become a somewhat home away from home for the brunette, who spent a great deal of her time in close proximity to her friend while their situation had reached it's all encompassing climax.
The sun had yet to break it's way over the horizon leaving no traces of dawn to shine through the curtains, and with a light groan, Meredith rubbed at her eyes as she sat up in the bed. The entire apartment was silent except for the occasional faint creak or groan given off from the structure of the old brick former warehouse-now-nightclub.
It was early for some, but for others, it was late. The brunette knew that a certain cop would soon be rounding out the end of his shift. Locks of brown hair were moved from infront of her face and tucked behind her ear as Meredith rolled onto her stomache and hung her arms off the edge of the bed, feeling blindly for her shoulderbag on the floor beneathe her. When it was located, she dug around inside for her cellphone, pulled it out, and manouevered herself up into a sitting position.
Today would be the day. She had to intercept Levi and tell him about Lindsey before it was too late. The phone was opened, and the backlit screen illuminated her face with a pale white glow. A number was dialed, and with an anxious heartbeat, the brunette inhaled, steeled herself, and held the phone to her ear.
"Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department, how may I direct your call?"
"Lieutenant Bowman, please."
"One moment, ma'am."
A faint click, and Gloria Estefan's Turn The Beat Around mutely played over the phone while the brunette was on hold. Seconds ticked by, Gloria turned it up, turned it up, turned it upside down, and Meredith found she stopped breathing long before the receptionist had placed her in the queue. After what seemed like eons, the music stopped.
"Bowman," came the deep voice.
"Levi, it's Meredith," came the halted and somewhat hesitant introduction.
A slight pause. Then a chuckle. "Well, well," he replied, his tone coming across quite genial and conversational - friendly, even, "How've ya been, Mere? How're things? How's Lorne?"
She ignored the probing. "We need to talk," she said to him in as blunt a tone as she could. "Today."
A rather wry and calculated smirk crossed Levi's lips, unbeknownst to the brunette on the other end of the phone. "Alright then," he said to her, "Let's have a chat. How about you stop by my place later on this afternoon. We'll have a couple of beers and shoot the breeze. We'll talk about anything you want, sweetheart."
"You sound way too overconfident for a man who really has no idea what I want to talk to him about," Meredith replied flatly.
"I think I have an idea," he shot back.
"No, Levi," Meredith replied, matter of factly. "You don't. You really, really don't."
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| An hour after... |
[03 Sep 2006|06:38pm] |
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Eoin entered onto the scene only an hour after the initial discovery of a young woman lying in the bed of a small creek... or at least her remains. He parked along the side of the road, the tiny bridge in front of him lined in yellow tape, the sound of traffic traveling toward Lake Mohave on the nearby freeway at his back. As he approached the flashing lights of a patrol car he smiled to the patrol officer who was first on the scene "I didn't even know t'is place 'ad water." Eoin's demeanor was enough to set nearly anyone off guard, he was always polite, charming, and sincere; nearly stereotypical for an Irishman. "I'll 'ead down t'ere and take a look, just direct up t'e forensics team w'en t'ey get 'ere, sound good?"( Read more... )
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| Over Now |
[03 Sep 2006|08:08pm] |
Life served up good days. It served up bad ones, too. To Hannah’s thinking this particular day was just regular.
It started out alright. She didn’t have a shift at the Nugget, so she slept in with the television flashing and mumbling in the background. Although she could barely hear the noise awake, it found its way into her dream dialogue, and Hannah thought she was on a day show that demonstrated blenders in front of a live studio audience.
Later she wandered sock-footed through the trailer picking up laundry and eating an entire can of Ravioli.
After a lazy shower, Hannah opened all the windows and started gluing down a weird scrapbook project of all the Clark County Beacon clippings that had to do with people she knew, or just the funky nature of things around there. She sat on the shag carpet with her legs Indian-style and the coffee table pulled up to her ribcage.
A made-for-TV movie gave her some background noise.
They say that the hardest thing to speak is the truth and they're not wrong.
Devon found himself stood outside of Hannah's trailer unable to lift his hand because there was trepidation, anxiety and melancholy running through his veins. They held him in place and made him feel six instead of three hundred.
Inhaling a breath, he pushed a hand through his dark hair then stepped forward and raised his knuckles to rap three times.
Hannah eyeballed the window to make sure it was still light out. Once she was pretty sure she wasn’t about to invite in a toothy demon, she called, “Come in!” in her cheerful way. The orange point of her glue bottle zigzagged across the page. She spread it all out with a popsicle stick, recently freed from its cherry-flavored outfit. It was how they taught you in vacation bible school.
She smoothed the newsprint down and examined her handiwork. It was an article about gang runners stealing all the milk out of the General Store’s refrigerator section. Later she would pen a more accurate caption. ‘Dairy Demons???’
Devon opened the door, ducked low and then straightened up once inside the trailer. His eyes caught sight of Hannah and a brief smile tugged at his lips.
"Hey," he managed quietly, wondering if he looked as bad as he felt. The black work ensemble was fitting, all things considered.
“Hey, baby!” Hannah’s naive greeting stood in stark contrast to Devon’s. Figuring he had another bad day at work, she scooted away from the table and went to give him a proper greeting.
( The Truth Hurts )
( All Done With Me )
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