Wasted

Lauren plucked her purse from the ground beside her chair and sighed happily- her first day of work had been a success. The only time Platt scolded her was for her peppiness which, in fact, she had toned down. She stretched her arms above her head to relieve her stiff back. When she heard the satisfying crack of her bones she smiled, time to go home and call Ella.

She pushed through one of the doors and felt the breath leave her as a fresh, chilly wind blew past her. Her hair flew wildly around her shoulders, some strands whipping into her face.

"Looks like your cheek healed up good," Voight commented. He leaned against his vehicle, one foot propped against the tire, his arms crossed across his chest.

"It did," she said reaching up to touch her face, "thank you."

He locked his jaw tightly still looking her over, "You liking your job?"

She nodded with a small grin, "It's nice. That Sergeant Platt's a real sweetheart."

The side of his mouth twitched up in a smirk before he responded. "Yeah. Listen, if you're gonna work here," he pointed to the station, "with us you should know your life will get-" he searched his brain for the right answer, "complicated. And fast."

"I just answer the phone, sir."

He nodded and stepped forward, "You got a ride?"

She began quietly, "I was actually just going to get a cab-"

"Get in." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the passenger side.

She opened her mouth to say something, but only a squeak passed her lips. She bowed her head and obliged, sliding into the seat without a question. She pulled the seat belt around her slowly, listening as the latch made a loud clink. She began to give him the directions to her apartment, but realized he'd already been there once.

He did save me.

"You have any more trouble outta anybody?" He questioned.

She shook her head lightly, picking at her cuticles. "No, sir. Only that one time."

"Voight. Or Hank," he told her sternly. "No more of that sir stuff."

"Sorry, Hank." The sound of his name felt foreign on her tongue, but she accepted it. "And thanks again," she mumbled. "For saving me. And giving me a ride home."

"No problem."

The rest of the ride was silent, but not an awkward one like she'd shared with his son earlier. This one held contentment and peace. When he pulled onto the curb she unbuckled herself and thanked him again.

"I know you met Justin today," he stated. "I'm think you'll understand when I say that he's off limits."

Her eyebrows knit together as she stared at him in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing happens between the two of you." He nodded his head at her, "I can tell you're a good girl. But I can't have him going around with his head up his ass. Not right now."

"Goodbye, Mr. Voight," she said quickly. She scurried across the road holding her scarf over her mouth and nose.

How dare he?



"He actually said that?" Ella asked, her voice cracking at the end.

"Yes! As if I'm some kind of ex-con." She shook her head, burying her face into her pillow. "Drama on the first day of the job."

Ella sighed, "I'm sorry, honey. I know you truly like this job, too."

Lauren coughed, promptly changing the subject. "You heard anymore from William?"

"No, but Joe said he saw him with some girl down at Chester's last night."

Lauren laughed, "What was Joe doing at a bar?"

"Quote, 'winding down' unquote. Those third graders he teaches must be some real ball-busters."

Lauren cackled loudly, holding her hand against her stomach. "Maybe they are, El. Never know about 'em."

They sat in silence, both thinking the same question.

"Do you think maybe if he moves on he'll leave you alone?" Ella asked quietly.

"I hope so. But I wouldn't wish him on my worst enemy."

Rapid knocks on Lauren's door ended their conversation- she quickly bid her sister goodbye and went to the door. Raising onto her tiptoes she looked through the small hole in the door. A tall, chubby man stood with his back to the door, the back of his head was coated in dark brown hair, hanging past his shoulders limply.

She cracked the door open, the chain above her head stretched to it's limit. "Can I help you?"

The man turned around and Lauren had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. He wore an Invader Zim shirt underneath a bright yellow jacket paired with too small green pants and no shoes. He smiled a yellowed smile at her. "Uh, yea can I borrow some sugar?"

"Yeah, hang on a second." She measured out a cup of sugar and put it in a sandwich bag. She opened the door, still secured by the lock at the top of her door, and stuck her hand through the small opening. "There ya go."

She cringed when his tongue dipped from his mouth, glossing his bottom lip in a coat of saliva. "Thanks Lauren."

A twinge of fear crawled up her spine when she heard her name pass his lips. "How do you know my name?"

"I have my ways."

Her eyes narrowed at him, "How?"

"I know Will." He smirked, "Good friends."

She slammed the door and quickly ran to the kitchen to grab a chair and jammed it underneath the doorknob. She searched her wallet for Voight's card, realizing the severity of her shaking hands. She dialed his number quickly, her eyes never leaving the door.

"Voight."

"Hank, this is Lauren." She said quickly, "there's a man here, he knows my name and he knows my ex-husband."

Voight paused, listening to her, "Is that a bad thing?"

She leaned against the wall slowly, sliding down it until she hit the floor and drew her knees to her chest. Sobs tore from her chest and burned her throat as she cried openly to a practical stranger.

"My ex-husband wants me dead."