(no subject)
For an island that's supposed to be a new start, sort-of-but-not deserted and kind of a near version of utopia, there was a hell of a lot of what felt like work for Catherine in the past two months, and today, she decided to hell with it.
No dead bodies, no reports, no lab, no kids tethered to her, not even one single thought about science or blood or bones. Catherine was taking a mental health day, and that was that. For once, she wanted her only concerns to be about possible sunburn and wondering what Lindsey was doing back home. The first was easy to take care of and the second...well, she'd thought about Lindsey every single day of her life since the day she found out, and would until the day she died. Nothing would change that.
Leaving the compound for the beach did most of the work needed for Catherine to just let out a breath and relax, something she hadn't done since Nick...well. The swimsuit was the best of the eighties she was going to get, and the big floppy hat was actually kinda thoughtful of the clothes box. She even had a trashy romance novel to make the scenario complete.
"Oh, come on, honey," Catherine snorted at the novel an hour later, on her stomach with both legs in the air and crossed at the ankles. "No man is that great in bed. Even the bad ones."
No dead bodies, no reports, no lab, no kids tethered to her, not even one single thought about science or blood or bones. Catherine was taking a mental health day, and that was that. For once, she wanted her only concerns to be about possible sunburn and wondering what Lindsey was doing back home. The first was easy to take care of and the second...well, she'd thought about Lindsey every single day of her life since the day she found out, and would until the day she died. Nothing would change that.
Leaving the compound for the beach did most of the work needed for Catherine to just let out a breath and relax, something she hadn't done since Nick...well. The swimsuit was the best of the eighties she was going to get, and the big floppy hat was actually kinda thoughtful of the clothes box. She even had a trashy romance novel to make the scenario complete.
"Oh, come on, honey," Catherine snorted at the novel an hour later, on her stomach with both legs in the air and crossed at the ankles. "No man is that great in bed. Even the bad ones."