#weightofwar

“Now don’t go and grouse at me, Beckett Abel Boyer.”

Beckett always means well, she never doubts that, but he’s quick on the draw. Still strung tight as a bowstring in some situations and he likes to jump before there’s even a problem.

               SHE GLANCES UP FROM THE COOKBOOK LAID OUT ON THE COUNTER WHEN THE FRONT DOOR OPENS. it’s too early for thomas, and autumn just left with the dogs for a walk, so she watches the kitchen entrance carefully until someone appears. when she recognizes her daughter’s boyfriend she lights up, smiling pleasantly as she stands on her tiptoes to grab a bowl from the top shelf. 

      A savory taste of red wine coated her lips and her tongue as she sat alone. The room was full of life and music that created an undeniably intoxicating atmosphere – in the best possible way, mind you. And all though that room was full of familiar faces she could never forget, her eyes were locked on him.

      It’s like the boy had a damn glow around him as he smiled cheekily and rather warmly to some elderly ladies who were so keen with him. Although the sight was more than adorable, she found herself feeling irrationally irritated at him. How is it that he was so effortlessly… perfect? Maybe that was a rather broad word to describe him, but dammit, she felt like he was. To look at him with hearts in her eyes would simply be a waste of her time – she didn’t stand a chance, didn’t belong to even be around someone like him. So, she was irritated. And maybe that was irrational, but grumbling into her wine was about the only thing that has made any damn sense lately.

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the call she made was vague and panicky--a fake voice, exaggerated hysteria, hardly any details aside from the location of the ‘crime’ and a sense of urgency. intentional, of course. just like it was intentional that harley called when she knew beckett was on duty. 

( after all, this isn’t going to work quite as well if someone else shows up. )

while she waits, harley sets up the table; it’s a rickety fold-out thing, but cover it with a checkered tablecloth, and it does the trick. add some candles, a plate of spaghetti--well, thai takeout, but it’s still noodles, so it works--and the scene is starting to look just like lady and the tramp. alleyway and all.

which is maybe a little too romantic, now that she thinks about it, but it’s too late to change course now. harley’s committed to the joke, and she’s going to see it through. after all, this is about playing a prank, not about any feelings she may have doesn’t have for him. 

she hears him approaching before she sees him, and harley turns, giving him a victorious little grin from behind the table.