< Permission - arkhams_dr >
So far, everything went well. She had her continuance in court, Sale still didn't know about the deal he'd eventually have to authorize, Stephens and Bullock had checked in about Perkins...
Nadine's professional life was stable.
Her personal life...
Well, that wasn't.
She had to talk to Jonathan, had to explain Harvey's offer. Pray he wouldn't be too mad at her. If he was angry, she'd soothe him. She'd find a way to make it up to him, to earn his forgiveness. She hadn't given him any say in her decision to take Harvey in, hadn't even told him until after it'd been done. The least she could do now was give him the final say on this issue.
The blond ADA knocked on the door of Jonathan Crane's apartment, running her other hand through her hair. She braced herself for the worst reaction she could imagine, tried to prepare herself for anything. Jonathan had every right to be angry, every reason to scold her. She had her case prepared-- why he didn't need to worry, how platonic the whole thing was-- but she'd accept his decision. If he didn't feel comfortable with it? She'd sleep on her couch.
All she could do now, though, was wait.
She waited. And waited. After ten minutes, she accepted that Jonathan wasn't home. He could be working in a larger laboratory or he could simply be out for a short while. She didn't want to wait in front of an apartment door all night if he wasn't coming home. There was really only one way to find out if he'd be home. She pulled out her cellphone and dialed.
Nadine's professional life was stable.
Her personal life...
Well, that wasn't.
She had to talk to Jonathan, had to explain Harvey's offer. Pray he wouldn't be too mad at her. If he was angry, she'd soothe him. She'd find a way to make it up to him, to earn his forgiveness. She hadn't given him any say in her decision to take Harvey in, hadn't even told him until after it'd been done. The least she could do now was give him the final say on this issue.
The blond ADA knocked on the door of Jonathan Crane's apartment, running her other hand through her hair. She braced herself for the worst reaction she could imagine, tried to prepare herself for anything. Jonathan had every right to be angry, every reason to scold her. She had her case prepared-- why he didn't need to worry, how platonic the whole thing was-- but she'd accept his decision. If he didn't feel comfortable with it? She'd sleep on her couch.
All she could do now, though, was wait.
She waited. And waited. After ten minutes, she accepted that Jonathan wasn't home. He could be working in a larger laboratory or he could simply be out for a short while. She didn't want to wait in front of an apartment door all night if he wasn't coming home. There was really only one way to find out if he'd be home. She pulled out her cellphone and dialed.