basketcase

It’d been two weeks since the place had been turned into a safe house, two weeks since the killer was even mentioned in the media — and as it seemed the last of the cops circled the property, a blasé Spencer finally deemed it safe to refurbish his van with his ˗ˏˋ glorious weed ˎˊ˗.

In the front yard, only his lower half perched out of the vehicle as he set the last of his plants in their place within. There was work ahead. For the four, nearing five weeks, they hadn’t gotten the luxury they had when stationed in his trash can on wheels. No grow lights, air filter, heater — though that’s not to say Spencer didn’t try to fetch said objects for his lil’ green cutie pies.

First he attempted his usual take on getting from Point A to Point B, a casual stroll — but the moment he stepped foot outside the cops were on him like flies on shit and he was led back inside. That’s when he attempted g h o s t i n g… but that didn’t end well, never does. His misdirection nearly getting him found out; it wasn’t the safest idea but DAMMIT he’d been desperate.

Making sure his babies were tended to had been a top priority during the whole, what many referred to as, ‘ ordeal ’ — and the reason he may have appeared relatively absent for the majority of it.

A glimpse at Nat walking down the sidewalk through the front windshield had him leaning out then. There she was. He hadn’t seen her since ‘ the whole ordeal ’; half of him didn’t expect to for at least another week, or when all the excitement had completely died out and the house was just haunted again. The way she’d acted during was nothing short of peculiar… in his perspective. Her body signals sang a song of fear. He assumed she’d just been nervous about the mysterious killer — which, truthfully, wasn’t Nat’s way – the FEARLESS girl – but that’s all he really had to go on.

The lanky brunette stood upright — his head poking over the roof of the van, “ Hey! ” He called, a teasing tone, “ You know the killer’s gone now, right? You can relax. ”

As the bombshell approached the property line, she heard that oh so familiar call coming from Spencer in the direction of his van, and naturally she brought her hand up to lower her sunglasses a smidge. Perking a brow at his comment, she gave the area a quick scan (as if that would help at all), and stepped into the yard. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she called back, sending a sarcastic smirk his way as she continued through the lawn to meet him at his van. Finally, a reason to be here.

“They could be out here creeping right now,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest. “So you’d better let me in, or I might end up like that poor dog on the news,” she pouted teasingly, looking up at the ghost.