Sleeping Mat
Title: Sleeping Mat
'Verse: Psychomachia
Rating: none
Author's Note: It's short, but significant. Features Brooklyn (mine), Keith, and George (guiltycross's)of Psychomachia.
Keith passed by the living room on his way to the communication room to meet George. They wanted to finish up their plans for their next haul, and it was getting more troublesome for them to do so, what with Brooklyn around. As he passed the room, he caught sight of her, and paused.
She was sleeping, curled up on the hard, cold floor. It was strange. During the day, she was fiery and angry and always fighting. When she was sleeping, however, there was a certain vulnerability about her. She sort of tucked her head in, and had an arm crossed over her chest, and her face was troubled. He had this odd compulsion to smooth the worry away. It was sort of a shame she was such an insufferable woman, and a cop besides. She was sort of pretty.
He cocked his head. She might be a pain in his ass, but it really wasn’t humane of them to make her sleep on the floor.
“Keith?”
He turned. George was standing a few feet behind him, one eyebrow raised.
“Yeah. Comin’,” he mumbled. He followed his friend out.
When Brooklyn went to sleep the next night, she was startled to find a thin, shabby sleeping mat on the floor where she usually slept. She nudged it with her foot, half expecting a trap. Maybe a bomb. Ty’s doing, of course.
But there was nothing but comfort in that little mat, and she fell asleep quickly that night.
He checked on her. Just to make sure she was sleeping before he and George went to planning again. He watched her as she slept. A couple of days ago, he had taken her out into the nearest village, and shown her exactly what it was she scorned. She’d been quieter since then, and even today, when they had done their next job, she hadn’t caused trouble.
He turned away to find George standing at the entrance of the room again. Keith jerked back. His hand found his gun, but he released it once he realized who it was.
“Shit. You startled me.”
George gave him a stern look. “Keith.” He paused, shaking his head. “She’s a cop.”
He rolled his eyes. “No kiddin’. That doesn’t mean she should have to sleep on the floor though.”
The older man put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “We can’t trust her.”
There was a slight hesitation before he replied. “I know that.” And he walked out of the room.
George glanced down at the sleeping mat. Brook’s eyes slid back shut.
'Verse: Psychomachia
Rating: none
Author's Note: It's short, but significant. Features Brooklyn (mine), Keith, and George (guiltycross's)of Psychomachia.
Keith passed by the living room on his way to the communication room to meet George. They wanted to finish up their plans for their next haul, and it was getting more troublesome for them to do so, what with Brooklyn around. As he passed the room, he caught sight of her, and paused.
She was sleeping, curled up on the hard, cold floor. It was strange. During the day, she was fiery and angry and always fighting. When she was sleeping, however, there was a certain vulnerability about her. She sort of tucked her head in, and had an arm crossed over her chest, and her face was troubled. He had this odd compulsion to smooth the worry away. It was sort of a shame she was such an insufferable woman, and a cop besides. She was sort of pretty.
He cocked his head. She might be a pain in his ass, but it really wasn’t humane of them to make her sleep on the floor.
“Keith?”
He turned. George was standing a few feet behind him, one eyebrow raised.
“Yeah. Comin’,” he mumbled. He followed his friend out.
When Brooklyn went to sleep the next night, she was startled to find a thin, shabby sleeping mat on the floor where she usually slept. She nudged it with her foot, half expecting a trap. Maybe a bomb. Ty’s doing, of course.
But there was nothing but comfort in that little mat, and she fell asleep quickly that night.
He checked on her. Just to make sure she was sleeping before he and George went to planning again. He watched her as she slept. A couple of days ago, he had taken her out into the nearest village, and shown her exactly what it was she scorned. She’d been quieter since then, and even today, when they had done their next job, she hadn’t caused trouble.
He turned away to find George standing at the entrance of the room again. Keith jerked back. His hand found his gun, but he released it once he realized who it was.
“Shit. You startled me.”
George gave him a stern look. “Keith.” He paused, shaking his head. “She’s a cop.”
He rolled his eyes. “No kiddin’. That doesn’t mean she should have to sleep on the floor though.”
The older man put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “We can’t trust her.”
There was a slight hesitation before he replied. “I know that.” And he walked out of the room.
George glanced down at the sleeping mat. Brook’s eyes slid back shut.