Her shift had finished hours ago but there had been other predicted events that kept her tied up longer than the original finish time. Even after giving a delayed time of arrival the deputy knew time had gotten away further despite her best efforts to make a clean get away. Easier said than done when neither party wants to call time on the day quite yet, stubbornness drawing out the events. But eventually she had freed herself and begun the walk to her next destination, muscles protesting with almost every step after a day on her feet.
Entering the little studio apartment that Robin called home, Maggie shot him an apology by way of a smile before moving around the kitchen area as though she had always belonged there. Two glasses are pulled from a cupboard on autopilot, muscles acting out of memory rather than being in the present. More steps are taken despite the way her legs are protesting and after placing the crystalline containers down she finally addresses him. “I’m hoping that you’re as in need of a drink as I am.” It wasn’t phrased like an question not when there was more than enough familiarity between the two of them that a simple glance at the weary frustration in her features would be all convincing that he needed.
Aching limbs are lowered into a chair with less care than they deserve after their hours of hard work but there’s too much greedy eagerness and anticipation about the smooth amber spirit that was to come for her to give her body the prudence it deserved. Instead her focus shifted almost immediately to the bottle she had brought with her, already craving the sweet tinge of numbness that the scotch would bring. After pouring equal measures she was finally able to take a sip of the liquor she coveted but before she could enjoy the burn of it down her throat she passed the archer his glass as she raised her own. “Cheers.”
@robnhoods
