It was late - or rather, very early. Late for people like Jason who hadn't been to bed yet; early for those who had. Eight a.m. according to the clock. Jason had rang Miranda's cell phone several times, but it kept going to voice mail, and he'd finally decided to try her home, hoping to catch her before she headed to the office. He'd only been to her apartment once before - one late drunken night that he didn't regret, but she seemed to want to forget. One late drunken night that he couldn't quite get out of his head.
That one late drunken adventure in bed wasn't the reason he was there though. He was there because something had developed in the case against Nicoletti and Jason needed to reach Desmond, and the only way to do that was to go through Miranda. So, at just a few minutes past eight a.m. one Tuesday morning, he found himself pulling into the parking lot behind Miranda's condo, a cup of Starbucks in his coffee holder and a half-eaten donut in his hand.
He looked around as he climbed out of his black Nissan Ultima, his cop's instincts on overload - or maybe he was just over-tired. He glanced around the parking lot, but didn't see her car anywhere. Still, that was no reason to think she wasn't home. Maybe it was in the shop or maybe she'd bought a different car since he'd last seen her. Whatever the reason, he was there now, so he thought he might as well go up and see if she was home. He glanced in the driver's side window and frowned at his own reflection, thinking he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, though in truth, he hadn't been there yet. He popped the rest of the donut in his mouth and shoved a hand through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to comb it before starting toward the building, the cup of too-strong coffee in his left hand.
He opted to take the stairs, rather than the elevator - he really hated elevators - though his legs felt heavier and heavier with every step. He really needed to go home and crash for a little while. Five hours was all he needed, and he'd be good to go another 24 hours or so. He took a swig of the coffee, wincing at the taste of it, but at least the caffeine kept him going as he made his way down the hall to her posh Manhattan condominium - an apartment that was far more expensive than anything he could ever afford on his measly detective's salary. Arriving at the door, he leaned in a moment to listen for any movement inside, more out of habit than necessity.
There was movement within the apartment, but it was unlikely he could hear it from where he stood. The shower in the second en-suite was going - Bethany had got up when her mother did, but since Miranda had a meeting to attend this morning, she'd gone back to bed for another half hour before rousing herself to actually get up properly. Her second day off, she was already pretty relaxed from a girls' day with her mom, but she was determined to enjoy her morning shower today without having to worry about water bills, or Miranda coming in to make sure she hadn't passed out.
Hearing no noise or movement coming from inside the apartment, Jason thought about leaving, but he was already there, so he might as well knock on the door. There had to be a reason she wasn't answering her phone, and he didn't think it was just because she recognized his number. She was the go-between between himself and Desmond, and she knew it. After a brief moment's consideration, he lifted a hand to rap his knuckles against the door and waited to see if she answered.
For a moment, Bethany was oblivious to the knock on the door, in a world of her own under the heavenly spray of her mother's exquisite taste in plumbing. Her eyes opened, however, when her brain rushed to inform her that she might have heard something outside the fall of water. Frowning, she opened the glass door of the cubicle, leaning out to listen. Had she heard something, or was her subconscious trying to deliberately sabotage her shower"
One more time, and he'd give up. He doubted she was avoiding him, not where Desmond was concerned. Maybe he'd just missed her. If there was no answer, he'd check with her office. He rapped his knuckles against the door again before noticing the buzzer. I really need to get some sleep, he thought to himself with a frown as he pressed a thumb against the buzzer. If she wasn't awake yet, she would be soon.
Dammit! This time, Beth did hear the door, and she was not exactly pleased to do so. Sighing, she turned the shower off, leaning out through the bathroom door to call toward the front hall. "Just a minute, I'm coming!" Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it about herself, tucking it close over her chest and under her arms, muttering to herself in a distinctly put out tone. "First chance I get for a really good shower, and some moron comes calling. Typical, just typical." With water trickling down her legs, she padded barefoot to the front door and pulled it open, blinking in surprise at the sight of a handsome, if tired-looking, man frowning back at her. "Can I help you?"
Jason thought he heard a voice calling from somewhere inside the apartment, and muffled as it was, he assumed it was Miranda. The last person he expected to find opening the door was a beautiful, half-naked girl, dripping wet, wrapped in a towel. Unfortunately for him, he was just taking a swallow of his coffee when the door open and he nearly choked at the sight of her, half spewing coffee on the floor, but thankfully not on her.
Bethany, for all that she was scantily clad and had just narrowly avoided having coffee spat on her, took it in stride. Her wide mouth curved in a smile her mother would have found very familiar, brown eyes lighting up with amusement as she looked from the patch of coffee on the floor to the face of the apparently startled man in front of her. "Would you like a cloth, or maybe the Heimlich Maneuver?"
He coughed again and cleared his throat to find his voice, a bit raspy but audible. "Cloth, thanks." Though she didn't look like she could spare much of that towel. He wiped a hand across his mouth, one brow arching as he looked her over again, with eyes that were deceptively sharp, despite his weariness. "Who are you? I'm looking for Miranda."
The sharpness in his expression made her smile deepen a little, guessing this was one of those friends her mother said she didn't have. "Just a sec." Stepping back from the door, she grabbed the first cloth to hand - Miranda was going to kill her when she found out one of her expensive swatches was coffee stained - and handed it to him. But she didn't move to let him in yet. "Who I am depends on who you are. And why you're looking for Miranda."
That one late drunken adventure in bed wasn't the reason he was there though. He was there because something had developed in the case against Nicoletti and Jason needed to reach Desmond, and the only way to do that was to go through Miranda. So, at just a few minutes past eight a.m. one Tuesday morning, he found himself pulling into the parking lot behind Miranda's condo, a cup of Starbucks in his coffee holder and a half-eaten donut in his hand.
He looked around as he climbed out of his black Nissan Ultima, his cop's instincts on overload - or maybe he was just over-tired. He glanced around the parking lot, but didn't see her car anywhere. Still, that was no reason to think she wasn't home. Maybe it was in the shop or maybe she'd bought a different car since he'd last seen her. Whatever the reason, he was there now, so he thought he might as well go up and see if she was home. He glanced in the driver's side window and frowned at his own reflection, thinking he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, though in truth, he hadn't been there yet. He popped the rest of the donut in his mouth and shoved a hand through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to comb it before starting toward the building, the cup of too-strong coffee in his left hand.
He opted to take the stairs, rather than the elevator - he really hated elevators - though his legs felt heavier and heavier with every step. He really needed to go home and crash for a little while. Five hours was all he needed, and he'd be good to go another 24 hours or so. He took a swig of the coffee, wincing at the taste of it, but at least the caffeine kept him going as he made his way down the hall to her posh Manhattan condominium - an apartment that was far more expensive than anything he could ever afford on his measly detective's salary. Arriving at the door, he leaned in a moment to listen for any movement inside, more out of habit than necessity.
There was movement within the apartment, but it was unlikely he could hear it from where he stood. The shower in the second en-suite was going - Bethany had got up when her mother did, but since Miranda had a meeting to attend this morning, she'd gone back to bed for another half hour before rousing herself to actually get up properly. Her second day off, she was already pretty relaxed from a girls' day with her mom, but she was determined to enjoy her morning shower today without having to worry about water bills, or Miranda coming in to make sure she hadn't passed out.
Hearing no noise or movement coming from inside the apartment, Jason thought about leaving, but he was already there, so he might as well knock on the door. There had to be a reason she wasn't answering her phone, and he didn't think it was just because she recognized his number. She was the go-between between himself and Desmond, and she knew it. After a brief moment's consideration, he lifted a hand to rap his knuckles against the door and waited to see if she answered.
For a moment, Bethany was oblivious to the knock on the door, in a world of her own under the heavenly spray of her mother's exquisite taste in plumbing. Her eyes opened, however, when her brain rushed to inform her that she might have heard something outside the fall of water. Frowning, she opened the glass door of the cubicle, leaning out to listen. Had she heard something, or was her subconscious trying to deliberately sabotage her shower"
One more time, and he'd give up. He doubted she was avoiding him, not where Desmond was concerned. Maybe he'd just missed her. If there was no answer, he'd check with her office. He rapped his knuckles against the door again before noticing the buzzer. I really need to get some sleep, he thought to himself with a frown as he pressed a thumb against the buzzer. If she wasn't awake yet, she would be soon.
Dammit! This time, Beth did hear the door, and she was not exactly pleased to do so. Sighing, she turned the shower off, leaning out through the bathroom door to call toward the front hall. "Just a minute, I'm coming!" Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it about herself, tucking it close over her chest and under her arms, muttering to herself in a distinctly put out tone. "First chance I get for a really good shower, and some moron comes calling. Typical, just typical." With water trickling down her legs, she padded barefoot to the front door and pulled it open, blinking in surprise at the sight of a handsome, if tired-looking, man frowning back at her. "Can I help you?"
Jason thought he heard a voice calling from somewhere inside the apartment, and muffled as it was, he assumed it was Miranda. The last person he expected to find opening the door was a beautiful, half-naked girl, dripping wet, wrapped in a towel. Unfortunately for him, he was just taking a swallow of his coffee when the door open and he nearly choked at the sight of her, half spewing coffee on the floor, but thankfully not on her.
Bethany, for all that she was scantily clad and had just narrowly avoided having coffee spat on her, took it in stride. Her wide mouth curved in a smile her mother would have found very familiar, brown eyes lighting up with amusement as she looked from the patch of coffee on the floor to the face of the apparently startled man in front of her. "Would you like a cloth, or maybe the Heimlich Maneuver?"
He coughed again and cleared his throat to find his voice, a bit raspy but audible. "Cloth, thanks." Though she didn't look like she could spare much of that towel. He wiped a hand across his mouth, one brow arching as he looked her over again, with eyes that were deceptively sharp, despite his weariness. "Who are you? I'm looking for Miranda."
The sharpness in his expression made her smile deepen a little, guessing this was one of those friends her mother said she didn't have. "Just a sec." Stepping back from the door, she grabbed the first cloth to hand - Miranda was going to kill her when she found out one of her expensive swatches was coffee stained - and handed it to him. But she didn't move to let him in yet. "Who I am depends on who you are. And why you're looking for Miranda."