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[personal profile] fredless
Fred tilted her neck left, then right as she tried to stretch out protesting muscles than ran straight down the length of her back. When it didn't immediately work she yanked and twisted her hair up into a haphazardly crafted bun, if only for the brief distraction it gave. A pencil held the dark curls in place.

Work, it seemed, didn't stop for any reason at Wolfram and Hart. Not even the loss of a friend. Just as many projects sat piled on her desk the next morning, if not even more than usual. Varying levels of projects and research -- all of it requiring her personal attention at one point or the other. If their clients were anything (besides all-too-often evil), they were demanding. It felt as if she'd been buried in the lab for a week now, with only Knox for company.

She was quickly coming to the conclusion that wasn't doing him any favors. Fred had used Cordy's death to push off their plans two nights before, and he'd appeared to sense her heart just wasn't it in. Of course, if she was being honest, it was somewhere else entirely.

But right now it wasn't about her heart. It was about her head. Blinking, Fred bent down to reexamine the slide on her microscope again. Maybe this time it would make some sort of sense.
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Fred Burkle

May 2015

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