holidays  are  rough.  at  least,  that's  what  all  the  distressed  self-help  books  on  her  coffee  table  say,  somewhere  under  the  blank  post-it  notes  and  scribbled-out  lists  and  ripped-apart  envelopes.  helena's  sister  always  said  she  opened  mail  like  a  raccoon  going  through  the  garbage.  deborah  doesn't  say  much  of  anything  anymore,  of  course.  so  boxing  day  finds  agent  harper  sprawled  on  her  couch  with  a  third  bottle  of  miller  lite  held  loosely  in  her  grasp,  and  a  boxing  match  on    the  tv  just  for  the  noise.  that's  funny,  at  least.  boxing  on  boxing  day.

everyone,  they’re  coming  up;  everyone,  they  want  a  piece.  they  wanna  see  something.  it’s  a  shiver  up  her  spine,  the  soft  crunch  of  heavy  tires  on  dry  earth  accompanied  by  no  headlight  beams.  the  pad  of  jen’s  middle  finger  runs  along  the  flat  edge  of  the  paper  in  front  of  her,  finishing  the  sentence  she’s  on,  before  she  closes  the  manila  folder  and  tucks  the  brief  back  under  her  desk  where  it  goes.  good  thing  she’s  still  awake.  

she  crosses  over  to  a  window  and  carefully  peeks  through  the  blinds.  the  SWAT  team  taking  formation  outside  is  fairly  small  and  clearly  government  –  the  DSO  must  be  calling  the  shots  here.  times  like  this,  she  wonders  what  these  guys  think  they’re  here  for:  is  she  a  potentially  infected  civilian,  a  suspected  armsdealer?  certainly  no  one’s  told  them  the  truth,  because  that  would  necessitate  telling  them  what  bruce  banner  did.  

jen’s  a  good  attorney.  she  knows  her  rights.  she  knows  that,  in  this  scenario,  she  has  none.  federal  agents  have  the  power  to  make  arrests  without  warrants  under  reasonable  suspicion  of  a  past  or  current  felony,  and  since  this  is  a  bioweapons  case,  the  patriot  act  applies.  luckily,  the  law  isn't  jen's  only  defense.  she  can  feel  her  pulse  starting  to  speed  up  as  she  makes  the  careful  walk  downstairs  in  the  dark.  a  deep  breath,  then  she  opens  her  front  door  into  the  hot  desert  night.