When it Rains - It Pours. [Kire]

It had been a bit of a trek to District twelve, but nothing she couldn't handle. The distance between this District and her habitual grounds of District three was large, but she had been lucky enough to be permitted a ride on one of the speedy Capitol trains. However, she had been unfortunate enough to have landed the task of an assignment here in District twelve in the first place, though it was never explained why she had been chosen to go, and not another Peacekeeper. It was too late to complain now, even if she was allowed to complain, she had already embarked on her amazing journey. Her amazing journey to find another Peacekeeper and act as his shadow, though her orders had said partner, and pretend to like him while in reality she was there to see if he was doing his job or not.

She was a Special forces Peacekeeper, so why did she have to do this petty task of babysitting someone? Surely her skills were more useful somewhere else. No, the less she griped about it, the easier it would be to just do what she was ordered to.

This morning, she had been woken up by one of her friends, a fellow female Peacekeeper who she had partnered with on occasion. Having been told that the Captain wanted her, she had raced to get dressed in her uniform and become presentable. Entering the addressing room, she watched as the Captain scrutinized her. Seemingly, she had passed, and he had explained in shallow detail what her assignment was to be. Then he gave her papers to read for more information, and to use in case anyone wished to know her business in District twelve. He had said that he had already sent word ahead that she was coming, so she probably wouldn't need the papers, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "After all, wouldn't want you getting falsely locked up for impersonation, would we?" She had answered in the negative, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. She hated how the Captain treated her like a new recruit, or even a child, simply because she was the daughter of a highly respected Peacekeeper.

After getting her things together, just enough for a few days and only taking one uniform as she would be supplied with more there, she headed to the train station where she boarded the speedy Capitol train. It had take only a few hours in this train, rather than the day-long journey by coal train or even the week-long hike by foot. When she arrived, she was still fresh and ready to start her assignment, for all it would most likely be boring. She had had to do checks like this before, monitoring other Peacekeepers to make sure any suspected of slacking were either caught and punished, or cleared as capable members of the force. It wasn't all that enjoyable for her, but it did allow her the opportunity to see more of Panem.

She had finally reached the door of the residence where her charge lived, and readjusted the strap of her back pack to be more comfortable. Knocking on the door, she inspected the place, and the area around it. It wasn't the most impressive place, but then again, District twelve wasn't exactly the richest place in the world, and Peacekeepers weren't given that great of a salary. She looked back toward the entrance of the house as she heard the door open, and then tilted her head back to look up into the face of the man in front of her.

She wasn't that short of a person, tall for a woman as she reached 5'9", but she felt as though she had shrunk as she gazed up at the man who was another half-foot taller than her. Not allowing herself to be deterred, she gave the man a slash of a smile. It was her 'all business' expression, one that would tell the man that she wasn't here for a casual chat. "Fahrenheit Foster, I am Dalena Crisanto, Peacekeeper in District three." She decided not to tell him she was part of PCIS, it would make him nervous when she had to get him to trust her. "I have been assigned to be your new partner for a time." Her smile relaxed a bit, but she was still gaging him. That first bit of formality was required at the first meeting between two Peacekeepers, especially in this circumstance. At least, that was how the Captain had trained her. 

She watched the man, taking in his food-splattered uniform. Her eyebrow rose and, before she could stop herself, she asked "Minor or major riot? Or did you just get caught in the middle of a food fight?" Her smile slipped further into an unguarded expression, but she kept hold of it all the same. She brushed her dark hair off of her shoulder with a quick flick of her wrist. It was in a pony tail, like it usually was while she was on duty, and had flipped over her shoulder while she had walked. Pausing to let the man reply, she took a quick look down at her uniform to see if it was clean. It was, and it was also mostly free of folds and wrinkles. She lifted her gaze to the man again, and waited patiently.

For a moment it had looked as though she had stunned him, watching as he blinked at her. Then he seemed to collect himself and returned her introduction, "Fahrenheit Foster, District twelve." Of course, she knew this already. She also already knew of everything on his file, it had been given to her as part of her assignment. This was information she wouldn't be telling him, though, let him think that he was unknown to her, aside from his name.

She watched as he raised a hand to his hair, running a hand through it and removing it with a bit of tomato stuck to his fingers. Amused, she watched as he made a disgusted noise and wiped his hand on his uniform, yet another stain being created under his fingers. "I apologize for my appearance. It was indeed a riot. Only a small kerfuffle in the square, no one was hurt." His gaze was hard, as though he was remembering something unpleasant. He rose from whatever thoughts he was having with the tiniest shake of his head before moving to the side to vacate the doorway. "Why don’t you come in?" As he said the words, about four cats ran out the door, pausing only to rub up against both his and her legs. She smiled down at them, surprised at their boldness.

When her gaze returned to Fahrenheit, she saw he was a little embarrassed. "Uh, do you mind cats? I’m pretty sure that most of them are… mostly harmless." This drew a slight grin from her, and she stepped inside before answering. "I like animals in general, they're just so honest," she thought about the reason why she was here, the reason that she had to keep secret, unlike me. Her attention was brought back to her companion as he went into his living room and sat down, after dislodging another couple cats. Left at the door alone, she stepped inside and removed her boots, allowing one last cat to make his way outside before shutting the door.

Seeing his gesture for her to sit, she found a chair across from the one he sat it. From her position, she could see the kitchen and a door that was slightly ajar, that she suspected to lead to his bedroom. Then she turned to look back at the man in front of her, as he had started to ask the question she knew he would. "So what did you do to get sent here?" He paused, as though thinking over what he had just asked. "If you don’t mind me asking that is. I mean… Twelve is a long way down from three." She knew he wasn't trying to be rude, and that it was confusing that she would be sent from Three to Twelve. Usually even if a Peacekeeper was demoted they would only be sent to a District that was slightly lower on the scale, such as going from Four to Five, or even Six to Eight. To be sent from District three to District twelve must make it seem as though she had done something horrendous.

His next words cut through her thoughts, "And not to pepper you with questions, but why do I get a partner?" That was the other question she had been expecting, as she knew that very few Peacekeepers were partnered up, with exception of rookies and special operatives. She had to think about how to answer his questions, even though she had had nearly four hours to do so already. It would take careful wording, and a confident delivery, to convince him she wasn't hiding anything. Unless he was thick, of course. "I was sent here on assignment." It was true, but not the whole truth. She couldn't tell him exactly what her assignment was, but she didn't want to lie either. "And I was partnered with you because I need the help of a local Peacekeeper to complete it." Again, not the whole truth, but this one was more of a lie than the last.

As she had talked, she had kept her eyes on him, watching as he removed his stained uniform jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair. Underneath, as with all Peacekeepers, especially in the colder Districts or during the winter, he wore a tight-fitting white shirt. He then went into the kitchen and stuck his head under the tap. Bemused, she saw that he had turned the water on and ran his hand through his hair to remove the last of the tomato, and other unidentifiable foods, from it. Trying to straighten her features and keep the mirth out of her voice as she finished, she contained her amusement in a small, friendly smile.

He was back in the chair across from her now, rubbing at his hair with a dish towel. By way of an explanation, he said, "I had to get that crap out of my hair" She nodded, understanding the uncomfortable feeling of having muck in her hair. "What caused the riot? I would think it would take a lot to get the people of the lower Districts to throw food." Her tone was matter-of-fact, but a bit of sadness glittered in her eyes. She hated to see people suffer, though she was in no position to help them. Waiting for his reply, she stroked the back of a cat who had been brave enough to settle in her lap. A small, genuine smile crept onto her lips as she felt, as much as heard, the rumble of the feline's purr.

The way he had tilted his head told her that he had believed her, for the most part. There were questions in his eyes that she knew she would have to deal with in a bit. Hopefully she would have a reasonable answer by the time he asked them. She saw the pain in his eyes as she asked about the riot, and then it vanished to be replaced by a twitching muscle in his jaw. Other than that, there was no sign of any emotion. Curious, she waited to hear his explanation. "I was patrolling the district square. It was around noon so the vendors were pretty busy, when I heard yelling." He was giving it to her like a report, probably the same one he had given at the end of his shift.

She saw the blankness in his eyes, and heard the flatness in his voice. It was obvious to her, though it might not have been to other people, that he had been affected by today's events. Now wondering if she should have asked her question at all, but deciding it would give her some information about him without direct questioning, she sat silently, listening as he continued relaying the story. "A kid had been caught stealing." That made sense, there would be a lot of petty thieves out during the busy time. "It was food of course. It wasn’t even for him, it was for his little sister who was also present." That stunned her some. Having to steal food for a sibling, a foreign concept to her, but then again so was having a mother.

"The boy was arrested, and since their parents were dead, I had to take the girl to a group home." She felt a tug of sadness, being able to relate with having no parents. Her mother was still alive, maybe, but he father had died years ago. She had no family. "The crowd turned on us when we were leaving the square, probably because the little girl was making such a scene, and they didn’t think the kid should be arrested." Of course they didn't. No person, not matter the age, wanted to split a family up, but it had to be done. Or that was what she had been taught.

They sat there silently for a bit, and she could tell that he was going over what had happened again in his head. Then she watched as he got up and went over to the fridge, opening the door to grab two beers from the shelf. Carrying them back, he placed one on the table between them. It wasn't a direct offer, but she knew that it was there if she wanted it. Tempted, she waited until he had popped his beer open before grabbing hers. Even before she had opened her beer, he had downed his. Giving him a small, understanding smile, the popped the top off of her beer and tipped the open to him in a silent toast. He began to speak again, keeping her from drinking the cold beer in her hand.

His voice now held remorse, not overpowering but enough that it put an edge to his tone. "It had to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, leaving that sobbing little girl on the door step of that terrible place." Of course it was, and she knew very well how tough it was in an orphanage, having been in one for a couple years. "The kids there all looked hard, and distant. She was so distraught at having been separated from her brother. She kept saying it was all her fault. She had told him how badly she had wanted that little bit of bread." A small, empathetic noise came from her throat. Self-guilt, she knew how terrible it was. When her parents split up she had always thought that it was because of her, and then when her father died...

She distracted herself by following Fahrenheit's gaze as he looked at a picture placed on the mantle. It looked as though it had been taken a few years ago, but she could easily identify Fahrenheit by his height and solemn expression. The two girls were of similar build to him, but they were nowhere near his towering height. Seeing as they were both the same age, or there about, she guessed them to be his sisters. They had tried to smile, but tears were visible on their cheeks. She could only guess that this was taken before he left to be trained as a Peacekeeper, making the long trek to District two where he would have spent months doing both mental and physical training.

As she saw his head move out of the corner of her eye, she quickly shifted her gaze to the beer in her hand as though she had been contemplating something other than the picture over the fireplace. Feeling his gaze on her, she raised her head, trying to seem as though she had been caught in the middle of a thought. He had started to speak again, and she once more returned to listening intently in hope of collecting more information on him. Something in the back of her mind protested this, saying it was wrong to be snooping into his feelings like that but she pushed it back. This is the first, last, and only time I'll be doing this. After, I won't even need to do it again. Or so she hoped. She personally wouldn't like it if someone went snooping into her personal matters.

"They are going to whip him in the square tomorrow. He’ll be set free after that. I’m going to get him cleaned up and take him to his sister." She nodded, knowing the typical procedure for whippings. It was a shame that such a young boy would have to be whipped for something he had done out of desperation but it was too late to do anything now. He cleared his throat, looking unsure about what he had just said. Something told her it was more he was unsure about how she would react than his resolve to try and do good by the boy. "I just hope there isn’t another riot." Was that an attempt at distraction? It sounded like it.

Now that he had seemed to have finished speaking, she tossed back her beer and swallowed it in a few large gulps. The amber liquid now gone from the can, she placed the empty metal cylinder on the table in front of her. Deciding to not say any more on the subject of today, she said, "I'm going to have to come with you, of course." It was a statement, not a question. As his partner, she was required to accompany him at all timed during shift. When they were off duty, she was free to do as she pleased, as was he. However, she glanced at the window to see a darkening sky, it might be best for her to stay here for the night. "If you don't mind me saying so, I think it'd be best if I stay here tonight. It's getting late." She gestured toward the window, the piece of sky visible through it a shade of navy blue.

How long had they sat here talking? It must have been at least an hour or two, but that couldn't be right. She supposed that night came earlier her in District twelve, and shrugged. "I'll be fine on the couch." Gently shifting the cat that had stayed on her lap the whole time, she stood and stretched. Giving Fahrenheit a small smile, she asked, "How's about another beer before bed?" She held up a hand, stopping him before he could make a move to get up. "No, don't get up, I'll get it." As she would be staying the night, she thought it would be best she establish that she didn't need to be treated like a guest. Too used to being self-sufficient I guess.

Going over to the fridge, she opened the door and grabbed two beers. Popping open one, she tossed the other to Fahrenheit, "Here, catch." Flopping back into her chair, and managing to avoid the cat that still resided on it, she lazily held her can up in a toast, a wry smile on her face. "To new partners," she raised the beverage a little higher, "and, more importantly, good beer."

When she had asked to stay the night, he had raised an eyebrow at her. It seemed as though he thought that she was being a bit brash, but he shrugged and she knew he had settled for the idea. "Of course, partner." And then he smiled; just a small smile, but it was genuine. "What is mine is yours. Though I must warn you, the cats like sleeping next to warm bodies. You’ll be covered. And you might as well take the bed. I have… difficulties sleeping."

She paused, not out of shock or even repulse but out of curiosity. "Insomnia?" The one word question slipped from her before she could clamp down on it. Some people would rather others didn't know about their conditions, much less bring them up.

He had caught the beer she had tossed to him, and had popped the top with quick ease, tipping it toward her in a mirror of her own movements. "To partners and beer." She watched as he put the can to his lips and tipped it back, taking a sip rather than the large gulps from the first time. Swallowing a bit of her own beer, she nearly choked as he asked, "So, what do you need me for on this case of yours?"

He had seemed so casual about his question, but she knew he had been prying, trying to see if she was really here for the reason she said. Thinking fast, she tried to come up with something that would be reasonable, but not the truth. She hated having to lie to him, but she also couldn't tell him why she was here. Or could she? "I was sent to see how the District was being run, and to look into the Peacekeepers to learn how they did things around here. The easiest way to do so is to be partnered with a member of the force. They did a random selection and chose you, and so I'm to accompany you to monitor District twelve for my report." It was true, except that she hadn't said she was specifically there to monitor him. Hopefully he would believe her enough that he wouldn't ask more questions, it would be hard to answer with any more detail. 

Taking another drink from her beer, she watched him over the rim of the can. Doing her best not to give her apprehension away, she shifted into a more comfortable position on the chair. The cat had once more settled itself on her lap, and she placed a hand on its soft fur, the rumble of its purr vibrating against her. "How many cats do you have around here? And are they all yours?" She had not taken him to be the crazy cat person type, but then again she'd been wrong before.

He had confirmed her blurted question with a nod and a few words. His matter-of-fact demeanor over it made her relax, realizing that he didn't mind it known. "Yes, I believe that’s what it’s called: insomnia. I’ve had it for years. It comes and goes, and at the moment it’s here. I haven’t slept well in weeks." She tsked is empathy, not knowing what she could say. Surely there was medicine for that sort of thing. Then again, a District twelve citizen with a District twelve wage was not going to have an easy time getting enough money to pay for Capitol medicine. It wasn't worth it for a few nights sleep. Still, weeks of poor sleep? It was a wonder he was still able to work, let alone well.

A disgusted snort brought her attention back to him, and she saw he was looking at his food-smeared hands. The he looked up, and answered her inquiry as to his cats, "Only three of the cats are actually mine, the rest are strays that come and go as they please. I give them food and a dry place to sleep." She nodded, understanding the way cats worked. It wasn't as though she had her own cats, but she did know a few people who did. Besides, animals seemed to like her. "There are probably about tenish… I think. The number varies." He eyed the cats that lay sprawled all around the place. Then he named a few for her, "The ones that are mine are, Frisker," a finger picked out a calico that perched on a shelf, "Whisker," a nod to a white pelt that draped over the top of the tv, "And, Jax." She watched his eye travel to the cat in her lap, giving the large black tom a pointed stare. "That black hellion is just buttering you up. He is plotting something, don’t trust him."

Jax twitched his tail, a non-committal movement that showed he knew they were talking about him. She ran a hand down his furry length, feeling him rumble as he purred. He didn't seem to be much of a hellion, but she didn't know him. Not yet any way, she was sure she would find out more about him as time went on. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get the last of this rotten vegetable crap off of me. Just treat this place as your own. I’ll replace the sheets on my bed while I’m in there." Before she could tell him once more that she would be fine on the couch, he got up and entered the door she had suspected led to his bedroom. She had been right, by the glimpse of the corner of a bed she had gotten from the opening. It seemed that the bathroom was through the bedroom. A bit of an odd design, but she guessed it suited one person.

Unsure of what to do for the moment, she stayed where she was. Petting Jax, she kept her ear out for when the water shut off. Taking the time, she looked around and counted the cats as a quick 'game'. It turned out that, included the large fluffball on her lap, there were nine cats that she could see. There might be more in the bedroom, or some out of sight in the kitchen, but it hadn't mattered enough to bother getting up to look. As well, the water had shut off and a few moments later Fahrenheit, wearing pajama pants but no shirt, exited the bedroom. Her eyes followed him as he made his way back to his chair and flopped into it, taking in his physique. He wasn't what she would call 'buff' but there was certainly muscle on him, and little fat. Her eyes flicked to his face when he leaned forward.

"Want to play a game?" His words were accompanied by a coy smile, as though he had known what she was thinking. His next words made her give him a smile of her own, though it wasn't nearly so mischievous, "I don’t know what goes on in those lady locker rooms back in the station, but in the guys’ we compare battle scars," she snorted softly, and there was a devious glint in his eyes as he said, "among other things." This pulled a small laugh from her, as she could very well guess what those 'other things' were. She hope he wouldn't be expecting some sort of pristine lady or anything, because he would be sorely disappointed.

She watched as he twisted his arm, revealing a jagged scar on the inside of it. She gave an appreciative grunt to it, but knew that she could top it. "I got this one when I tackled a guy holding a knife. Not the smartest thing. I was young and still very gung-ho." She smirked, picturing the tall man before her a few years younger and full of fresh spirit. "Did you land on it, or did he just stick you with it?" Her tone was all teasing, though she wouldn't be surprised if either of those things had been the case.

Now it was her turn, and to start it off she undid her jacket and pulled up her shirt from where it was tucked into her pants. A couple inches above her right hip was a small scar. It didn't look all that impressive, but the story of it would definitely top his knife wound. "I was tracking some twenty year old boy who had tried to flee from District three. I almost had him when he pulled a gun. Nothing would have happened, but the idiot I was paired with startled him and he pulled the trigger. Missed everything vital, but it still hurt like a bitch." She raised her eyebrows at him, inviting him to go. Your turn, top that.

She had seen his confusion as she had pulled up her shirt, but after showing her scar, he had understood. "He sliced me by accident as I was tackling him." His clarification was the confirmation of what she had thought. She knew that, for all he may have been reckless, it would have taken quite the bit of stupidity to jump onto someone's knife. When she had fully revealed her scar, and told him of how it happened, he had stood up so he could lean over for a better look.

"Bullet wound, huh?" She nodded, knowing he was probably thinking about how rare guns were, mostly only Peacekeepers had them. Even then, not every Peacekeeper did. Suddenly, his tone shiftedf to teasing, "You gonna talk about me like that when you’re done here? Don’t worry; I’ll be sure to accidently shove you down a mineshaft or something to give you some good stories." This grin on his face as he looked at her made her grin back. Then he winked, like it was a promise, and she raised her eyebrows in a challenge. "If you do, I will personally make sure that you're coming down with me." Her grin took a devious edge as she continued to gaze at him.

After a moment, he spoke again, "I’ve been stuck here since I got out of training, so no gunshots for me, but the denizens of twelve are very resourceful." She watched as he leaned further forward before tilting his head to expose a large ridge of scar-tissue on the underside of his jaw. "Pickaxe," he explained. "There were a few men meeting at the mine late at night. Some colleagues and I went to break it up and they turned violent. One of them swung a pickaxe at me, and since I’m," he gestured to show his height, "so much taller, he caught me under the jaw instead of in the head where he was aiming. The pickaxe was blunt, but pointed so it scraped the skin right off and left a nasty wound. It hurt to eat and talk for weeks."

She hissed in sympathy, the scar looked bad and the wound must have been pretty bad too. Having seen a few pickaxes, she knew what the point of those things looked like. From the sound of it, coming into contact with the wrong end of one of those was not pleasant. Fahrenheit sat down in his chair again, rubbing a scar of his collarbone. "While I was incapacitated from the first blow, he got me with a second one. That’s when I finally gathered my wits and I smashed him in the face with my baton. His companions slipped away, but I had knocked him out."

He shifted his gaze down, but before he had managed to hide his eyes completely, she had spotted something in them. Could it have been regret? Pushing the thought away, she listened as he continued. "He was arrested and sent to the Detention Center." His tone, somewhat tight as though he was trying to keep an emotion out of his voice, told her that this was what he had regretted. For all it was proper punishment for the man, Fahrenheit didn't want him to have his life stripped away. It was a dangerous line to walk, especially as a Peacekeeper. Now, she was beginning to understand why she was sent. His gaze rose to her again, and she watched as he tried to smile. The expression was a little tense, as though forced, and not the easy grin it had been only moments before. For some strange reason, she had liked that grin. With a cross of his arms, and a nod of his head, he indicated that it was her turn to go.

Thinking for a moment, she then pulled up her pant leg to expose three randomly laid out scars on the inside of her leg. They were all the same length, about an inch and a half, but they were not in any kind of pattern. Lifting her leg up to rest it on the table between them, she gestured to the scars. "These were from a knife fight. I had knocked the guy down, and had disarmed him, or so I had thought, when he drew another knife and stabbed me in the leg. I tried to kick at him, but he stabbed me again, and then a third time. It took all my effort to cuff him before I passed out. He had nicked an artery, but I was lucky in that it was an easy fix."

She gestured to a fourth scar, cleaner and longer than the other three, that resided nearer to the back of her leg than the others. It was her surgical scar, which to her was as impressive as the knife wounds. "I was in the hospital for about three days, then sentenced to house arrest for another couple days. After that, though, I was home free."She traced one of the knife scars thoughtfully, lifting her gaze to his again. "Not really much compared to your pickaxe wound, but hey, I don't mind." Her voice held a note of teasing, a tone that would draw out his competitive side, if he had one. She was sure he did, though, most Peacekeepers did. Giving him a nod, and pulling her pant-leg down again, she signaled him to go.

The sympathetic noise that came from him gave her a moment of satisfaction. She had impressed him, at least a little bit, and his grin told her that he had noticed her challenge. He didn't answer it, though, instead saying, "Not as impressive looking no, but the story is just as impressive and that’s what counts. You held onto consciousness long enough to do your job, kudos. Don’t be so humble." She just nodded, his serious tone catching her slightly off guard. "Besides, mine wasn’t so life threatening. No nicked arteries for me." She didn't bother correcting him on the fact that it could have been much worse, if only the man had had better aim.

Following his eyes to the clock, she was as surprised as he was to see what time it was. They had been up longer than she had anticipated, and the realization made her pause some. Normally she was more aware to the passing of time, something that had happened because of her father's death. To think that she hadn't noticed as hours passed by was somewhat startling. Her thinking was interrupted by Fahrenheit's words, "Well, we should end this game here. This early in the relationship, some things need to be left a mystery." The same he gave her was sly, making her give him her own devious grin. She watched as he downed the last of his beer, following suit before standing and stretching.

She kept her eyes on him as he continued to speak, "I don’t know your sleeping schedule, but just because I’m an insomniac doesn’t mean you need to stay up all night." He also stretched, his yawn looking as though he might pop his jaw. Like a great big bear, she mused, watching as he gave her a slightly assertive look. As if in answer to her unsaid statement, that it looked like he actually was tired, he told her, "Oh, I may be tired now, but right when I try to sleep I’ll be wide awake. So you take the bed. No use in arguing, really." Her eyes followed him as he went over to the couch and flopped down on it. A great big teddy bear. She grinned.

Amused, she watched as two cats decided to use Fahrenheit as a pillow, leaping into his lap before curling up. He looked at her again, "We have a whipping to attend to in the morning." She noted the strain in his voice as he said it, subtle but there. Knowing that he was of a much gentler personality than one would expect from a person of his size, teddy bear, she could only think that he was trying to keep either regret or bitterness from his words. "Plus, it’s your first day tomorrow! Welcome to District twelve partner." His tone, and the smile that accompanied it, were genuine and seemingly happy. She smiled at him, his expression gentling any inward accusations she had against him.

Nodding to him, she left the living area and entered the bedroom, taking her bag with her. In it, she had some sleeping clothes. Changing into them, a pair of shorts and a tank top, she climbed into bed. Before she went to sleep, she managed to remember to pull her hair out of it's ponytail. Placing the elastic on the night table beside her, it took her almost no time until she was asleep.

* * *

It wasn't the snap of the door that woke her, or the shuffle of footsteps, it wasn't even the sounds of cooking. The thing that drove her from her sleep was the smell of breakfast, more specifically bacon, that wafted from the kitchen. Blinking open her dreary eyes, with faint bags below them from the tossing and turning half-sleep she had been having, she slowly sat up. Looking at the bedside clock, she saw it was five-thirty. Groaning slightly at having to get up, she stood. Not bothering to so much as tie her hair back up, she left the room, disheveled and highly unkempt.

Feeling like a zombie, she shuffled her way into the kitchen. Her bleary eyes settled on Fahrenheit, who met her gaze for a moment before looking at the food he had been making. After a moment's hesitation, he divided the pile of food equally onto two plates. He smiled at her before asking, "Hey there, partner. Sleep okay?" Then he suddenly looked almost sheepish, and she realized that he had obviously been out running. Sweat stains marked large dark patches on his shirt, and his hair was also wet and quite tousled. Thankfully, he didn't smell too bad. Well, that or the smell of bacon was pervading all others.

Settling herself at the small table, she just stared at him for a moment before his question sunk in. Slowly, still not fully awake, she replied, "Alright, I guess, but from the state of the bed I think I had a restless night." She smiled at him, her tiredness dragging one side of her mouth down so the expression was crooked. "I heard you a couple times last night, not much sleep on your end either?" Once more her gaze swept over him, taking in and noting the sweat stains. "Did you go out for a run? You should have woken me. I always try to run before shift, but I guess I won't be able to today." She yawned, not bothering to cover her gaping mouth as she did so. "Not that I really feel like doing much right now."

Her gaze shifted to the plates of food, and she eyed them hungrily. "What's for breakfast, I'm starving."