Aug. 16th, 2012

fredless: (Grin by maybedarkpink)
Alone in the executive washroom, Fred stood in front of the polished mirror and studied her reflection. Several seconds ticked by before she reached up and tugged the elastic band from her hair, the released strands immediately falling about her face. Fingers worked their way through the worst of the tangles with enough force that she actually caught herself wincing.

Another breath as she stared back at herself, and more seconds ticked by. It still wasn't right. Her denim jacket bore the brunt of Fred's attentions next as she yanked it off, immediately rolling it into a ball and dropping it into her bag along with the elastic hair tie. The faint, acrid smell of gun smoke still lingered in the fabric.

And that was the real issue, wasn't it.

Despite the jokes and the ridiculousness and all of the felt, Wesley had been in very real danger today. Real enough that for more than moment, Fred had forgotten their mission. The words that she'd been tasked to say. Some giant purple mascot from a children's tv show had attempted to take a fire extinguisher to Wesley's head and --- even now most of it sounded absurd. But what wasn't absurd? Was how she'd felt, in that split-second. And now the notion that she might not've been able to stop it? That he could have been seriously hurt -- or worse -- without hearing how she felt?

And she'd been trying. She had. All week, really. Even that last ditch attempt with her car being in the shop. It didn't need to be in the shop, but it was. All for an excuse to somehow to get Wesley back to her place and ---

Well, she didn't precisely know the 'and' yet. But likely there would have been Chinese food. And an opportunity to talk. And some time away from the office and everything that'd been pressing up against them of late.

But was it really Wesley's fault? That she hadn't made things plain enough? Her mama would have a fit to know how she'd been shirting around the issue now that her heart had settled on something. Heck, she was having a fit. Or at least her insides were it seemed like, whenever she got close to Wesley these days. Fred couldn't quite sort out how the whole office hadn't seen by now.

She had to see him. Right now, even.

Abandoning her bag on the tile floor Fred made her way the short distance to Wesley's office and without bother to knock, slipped inside. Her gaze searched, and found him standing in the far corner. Good. He was still here.

"I just got off the phone..." It wasn't that far from the truth. That had been the last call she made before leaving her lab. The hospital had been very optimistic about their patients' recovery. "...looks like the kids are coming out of their stasis."

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Fred Burkle

May 2015

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