Don comes home, pissed as all hell, not even noticing the postcard on the door. It was their little thing now, leaving postcards with sentimentalities on them for each other in the places they knew only the other would look. Today however, he was oblivious, slamming the front door, still wearing his vest and a scowl to scare off even the most foul of beast. He hates when IAB gets on his case. Don works his ass off for his department, and when shit like this hits the fan and his butt is in the hot seat for something he knows he hasn't done wrong, it only serves to make him angry. The rubber gun squad is not his call of duty and he'd rather be suspended until ,yet again, the bureau comes back with red faces and apologies. Slamming his gun into the lock box, he kicks off his shoes and makes a beeline for the shower.
Riley usually left her on little cards laying out for him when she knew she wasn't going to get to actually see him. When she had to go in to work before he got off, or when he came home long after she was asleep.
As it was, when he came home, she was curled up asleep on the bed. Getting a nap in before going to work. There was no sleeping when she heard that door slam, sitting bolt upright in the bed with a gasp. Her first thought was that the alarm hadn't woken her, she was late for work, but glancing at the clock, she realized she was fine. It was Don who was home when he shouldn't be. That couldn't be good.
Sliding off the bed she made her way down the hall, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. "What happened?" Because 'Are you alright?' was just too obvious.
"They're accusin' me a killin' some douche bag that started hittin' himself before I could arrest 'im! Guy went ape shit and he had a gun, I couldn't even get close enough and believe you me I tried. Got shot twice fer all my trouble and they STILL stick me on the rubba' gun squad!" He barked, his voice clear even over the sound of the shower.
She listened silently on the other side of the door, but the only thing that really hit home for her was the fact that he'd been shot. She loved how much he cared about his job, but the fact that he could admit to being shot the way some people talked about going to the grocery store bothered her more than she'd admit.
Pushing the door open, she slipped inside, sitting down on the toilet seat pulling a towel off the rack for him. For whenever he decided to come out. "Was there anyone else there? Someone who can stick up for you and tell them you're not responsible for what that jackass did?"
Comments 11
He hates when IAB gets on his case. Don works his ass off for his department, and when shit like this hits the fan and his butt is in the hot seat for something he knows he hasn't done wrong, it only serves to make him angry.
The rubber gun squad is not his call of duty and he'd rather be suspended until ,yet again, the bureau comes back with red faces and apologies.
Slamming his gun into the lock box, he kicks off his shoes and makes a beeline for the shower.
Reply
As it was, when he came home, she was curled up asleep on the bed. Getting a nap in before going to work. There was no sleeping when she heard that door slam, sitting bolt upright in the bed with a gasp. Her first thought was that the alarm hadn't woken her, she was late for work, but glancing at the clock, she realized she was fine. It was Don who was home when he shouldn't be. That couldn't be good.
Sliding off the bed she made her way down the hall, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. "What happened?" Because 'Are you alright?' was just too obvious.
Reply
Reply
Pushing the door open, she slipped inside, sitting down on the toilet seat pulling a towel off the rack for him. For whenever he decided to come out. "Was there anyone else there? Someone who can stick up for you and tell them you're not responsible for what that jackass did?"
Reply
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