#thread . / prodgl

[baeckett-a]

@prodgl​ ASKED :  ❝ we’re gonna have to keep ice on that. ❞ - from leslie shay

          The only noise she makes is a low grunt. Lungs aching from where her vest caught the bullet, burying itself between the Kevlar and stopping centimetres before her flesh. She’s never felt so alive. Blood rushing in her ears from the excitement, she almost misses the words as her finger tips graze the area, admiring the already forming bruises. 

          “Thanks,” she gets out, slow to rise with a straining grimace. The next few days would prove to be a riot of fun. Adrenaline sparing itself already, it feels like a freight train ran through her body       flattening her ribs with the utmost care. Her left side plays favor to a blunt of the trauma. Each muscle twitches in memory of the initial shock, body staggering back until she hit the ground and wound up there. 

          She buttons her blouse, popping each one in dread huffs as she works them up. Her arms protest the higher she goes. “Kate Beckett,” she offers then. Opts on the intent to make a friend while the FBI keeps her in Chicago. She’s sure they’ll see each other again. 

[trustsarchive]

prodgl​:

  there’s  no dignity to be spared amongst friends. tiptoeing through a minefield   of shed  garments, shay  stays  determinedly  in  her  state of  undress  as she   checks on  her  pinging  phone. she’s  impossibly  warm  anyway  and  there’s   salve in the open air now that she’s strayed from the radiating heat of her bed.   her  gaze  doesn’t part  from the phone when lauren speaks,  and  neither  did   her own response warrant attention away from the furious typing.

     “hey, your tight ass should be  right  behind  mine  if  i’m called in on       my day off. it’s either nine eleven all over again or godzilla’s decided       to land on american waters.”

  brows knot in tepid annoyance,  the  screen  glares back at leslie in mockery.

     “it’s not the station. we’ve got a shipment coming in for the bar and the       other two bozos are too busy slacking off to come haul it with me.”

  be there in forty. only then does she spare lauren her gaze: the doctor had an   incomparable charm about her, one that kept shay  by  her  side  even  as the   world grew  incomprehensibly  complex  around  them.  a  decade of comfort   culminating to unthinkable benefits. shay beams.

     “are you on shift today, and if you’re not, wanna come help? and yes,       this is a test of friendship.”

they may not be anything more than friends who sometimes have sex...  whenever either of them needs to scratch an itch.  or whenever they feel like it.  that doesn’t mean that lauren can’t watch shay appreciatively as she crosses the room,  a broad grin on her lips until gaze shifts so she’s looking at the ceiling as her friend checks the phone that doesn’t seem to stop chiming.  damn,  she’s popular with someone...  which probably isn’t great given their line of work.

“oh,  godzilla huh?”  she laughs as she looks back at shay,   “that’d really be something,  and you’re damn right my ‘tight ass’ would be right behind yours.  thanks for noticing by the way.”   the teasing is hopefully clear enough,  though she is a little appreciative of the words  —  whether shay means them or not.

lauren takes a deep breath,  stretching a little as she prepares limbs that haven’t done all that much moving   (   not as far as standing or walking go,  at least   )   in hours.  the annoyance,  she notes,  is clear on the other woman’s face,  and lauren’s about to ask about it...  before the reason is revealed a split second before she opens her mouth.  

“damn,”   she sighs,  shaking her head,   “i was hoping for godzilla.”   overdramatic disappointment,  dripping with sarcasm.  in reality she’s glad for the fact that shay’s not being called in with lauren very likely to follow soon after.  days off are rare,  and it’s common for them to be interrupted somehow.  relaxation is foreign to lauren bloom.

then a question is posed and brow furrows.  there comes the interruption.  it may not be work,  but it’s certainly not relaxation   (   though she’s completely sure she’s not capable of actual relaxation   ).   “no,  no,  it’s my day off.”   she responds taking a breath as she watches the other woman.   “mmm,  yeah,  i guess i could come help.  but don’t pretend you wouldn’t be lost without my friendship.”