KvsW- Casefile [004.5][R&R]

Chris hadn't had a restful sleep in several nights, and tonight was no different. She squirmed and grunted softly, her eyes shut tight. Her hands went up to her throat, prying at invisible fingers. She started to gasp. Her eyes shot open and she sat up, her body covered in a cold sweat. She looked about her darkened room, verifying to herself that she was in fact in her own bed, and not still in that cave.

She lay back down, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. She took deep breaths to calm herself, and focused on the sounds of the apartment. She heard Dave snoring over on the couch. She smiled a bit at hearing it, glad that she didn't wake him up. She breathed in and out deeply some more, and let the last one out slowly, closing her eyes again.

It seemed that she had only closed her eyes for a few moments before she was awoken by shattering glass and a muffled curse. Instinctively, she reached under her pillow, pulling out a Makarov, and rolled off the bed onto her feet. It was time to operate. She crossed her room in silence and pushed open her bedroom door. It released a loud squeak, and she gritted her teeth. She rolled into the living room, sweeping it with the little pistol.

She saw Dave in the kitchen, looking at her like a deer in the headlights. She probably made for a bit of a sight, pointing a gun at him while half naked. "Shit, sorry Dave..." she said, lowering the pistol.
"Jeez, Chris. All I did was drop a plate. No need to come in guns blazing."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry." She placed the Makarov down on the counter. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Making breakfast."

"You can cook?"

"Well... no, but... I spent some time browsing /ck/ and..."

"I don't even cook. What are you expecting to find in my refrigerator?"

"I dunno... the usual stuff one would find in a refrigerator?"

"All you're going to find in there is a cucumber, some mayonnaise, and a box of wine."

Dave opened up the refrigerator to make sure, and grunted in disappointment when that really was all he saw inside. He sighed and went back to picking up pieces of the plate he'd dropped and tossing them in the garbage bin.

"I appreciate the thought, though," said Chris, leaning on the counter. Dave was doing his best not to look at her, since all she was wearing was her camo patterned bra and panties, and a pair of socks. "You can look if you want, you know."

"Right, and you're NOT going to punch me in the nuts."

"I never said that."

"Exactly."

Chris smirked and went back to her bedroom, coming back with a large t-shirt covering up her top half.

Dave let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, since I can't cook us some breakfast, how about we go out and get something?"

"What, wanna go out to one of those little restaurants in the town? Because there's no IHOPs or Waffle Houses out here."

"Sure, why not?"

"I dunno. I never liked those sorts of places. It always feels like every fucker in there's watching you eat your food. Like you have to be on your best goddamn behavior."

"Chris, maybe you haven't noticed, but this world belongs to the normies. Maybe if you ate like them they wouldn't stare at you."

"Dave, maybe you haven't noticed, but I have my gun out and I am not totally averse to shooting you in the ass for that comment." Her stomach grumbled loudly. "You're lucky I'm hungry, though..."

She retreated to her bedroom for a few minutes, while Dave took the opportunity to change into a new pair of pants in the living room. When Chris reemerged, she was dressed in blue jeans and a loose jacket, her pistol likely concealed within. She had her long red hair up in a bun, allowing a clear view of her neck. The bruises were still there, but they were fading by degrees each day.

"You look good," said Dave, snatching up the stationwagon's keys from the counter.

"I didn't ask."

"I know, but I'll say it anyway."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's just find a place and get something to eat."

Outside, their shitty old motorized chariot awaited, smelling of cosmoline and cigarettes as usual. It protested a bit with some chugging when Dave tried to start it, but eventually it gave in and lurched to life.

Dave drove them around for a bit, looking for someplace suitable. The town only had a couple thousand people in it, and very few establishments to choose from, so before long he spotted a little cafe tucked into the entrance of an alley. He pulled the car around the back.

A bell tinkled as Dave opened the door for Chris. The place was small, but it had a few occupants inside. A couple eating together by the door. An old man reading the paper in a corner booth. A chubby waitress checking her phone.

The waitress looked up at their entrance and put down her phone, grabbing a notepad instead. She walked over to the pair as they seated themselves.

"What can I get for you?" asked the waitress in a sort of disinterested manner.

"Uh, scrambled eggs and hashbrowns for me I guess, and uh," he looked over to Chris, who was seating herself. "What do you want?"

"Waffles if you've got 'em." Chris turned her head to look out the window onto the street.

The waitress jotted it down on her notepad and went back into the kitchen to deliver the order, while Dave sat down opposite Chris.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, no. Nothing."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, and if I wasn't, I'm not about to talk about anything bothering me in a public place."

Dave shrugged and leaned back. "Whatever you say. Sorry."

Chris sighed heavily. "You don't need to be sorry. I appreciate the concern... just that now's not the time or place."

Chris turned her attention back to the window, watching the street. It was quite empty, save for some pedestrian traffic. She watched the people walking by the windows, not really thinking about it. Just watching for the sake of it.

Dave, on the other hand, was watching her. Normally she'd be a bit more boisterous, maybe poking fun at how someone looked. Normally, she would have probably made a comment about the waitress being a hamplanet as soon as she was out of earshot. But she hadn't been in such a mood for a while now. It was worrying him greatly.

Their musings were simultaneously interrupted when the waitress unceremoniously placed their respective meals on the table. "Can I get anything else for you today?"

"No, I think we'll be fine, thanks," said Dave. The waitress shrugged and took up her post behind the counter once more.

Dave took the ketchup bottle on the table and applied a liberal coating to the eggs and hashbrowns, and began to dig in. Chris did much the same to her little stack of waffles, pouring maple syrup until they were swimming in the stuff.

She hadn't been lying about being hungry. She practically inhaled her food. Rather noisily too, if the looks being shot her way by the other patrons were any indication. She leaned back in her chair, satisfied, as Dave finished up the last of his hashbrowns.

"Feeling better now?" he asked, still chewing.

"A little."

After quickly paying for the meal, they went back outside to the car together. Dave was about to open her door for her when she shot him a glare that made him rethink that idea.

Instead, he went back over to the driver's side and sat down, sticking the key in and attempting to start the car. It responded with chugging and whirring. He kept trying to start it.

"It's got gas in the tank, right?"

"Yeah, we were half full on the way over-"

POP POP POP
BANG BANG
POP POP

"Get down!" Dave shouted, pulling Chris down out of sight.

She slapped his hands away. "It's just backfiring, goddammit, nobody's shooting at us!"

"Oh..." he looked around, his cheeks reddening. "Right. Sorry."

Chris just looked pissed that in the commotion he'd pulled her hair out of its bun. "Just... get us home, alright?"

"Right, right... home..." He put the car in gear, and what followed was a terrible grinding noise, followed by what sounded like an explosion under the hood. An engine piston punched straight through the metal, landing several feet away, and the interior of the car started filling up with fumes and smoke.

They piled out, coughing their lungs out.
Dave stood up, still coughing, and looked over at the stationwagon. "Jesus Christ, we're lucky that old piece of shit didn't go up in flames or something-"

The vehicle promptly caught fire.

"Dave, do me a favor and SHUT THE FUCK UP."

Hours later...

After dealing with the fire department, the sheriff, and the insurance company, Dave and Chris finally made their way back to her apartment in a taxi. Which was little more than a minivan painted yellow and driven by a fellow from Punjab, who prattled on and on in Hindi to someone on the other end of cellphone.

As soon as they dismounted, the minivan sped off, squealing its tires and hitting a cat.

The sun was setting. Chris wasn't talking, and was just scowling at the floor as she trudged back into her apartment. Dave wasn't talking either, but mostly because he was afraid of what she might do. He didn't actually know whether or not the stationwagon had some sort of sentimental value to her, and he also didn't know if she blamed him for its spontaneous combustion.

She trudged back into her bedroom and slammed the door, leaving Dave alone in the living room. He decided to just sit down, watch TV and drink until he passed out.

As soon as Chris closed the door to her bedroom, she climbed up onto her bed and vented her frustration by screaming into hernpillow and physically assaulting it.

She got it all out of her system and lay down on her back, massaging her temples and breathing deeply. She tried to put the day out of her mind as she stripped herself back down to her underwear, and crawled under her sheets. It was still rather early, but she didn't care, she felt tired as hell and just wanted a restful sleep.

On the couch, Dave was washing away his worries with the homemade vodka they'd been paid in, pouring shots directly from the taps in the jug. The TV was off now, and instead, he was browsing 4chan on his phone.

He had made the mistake of clicking into /r9k/, and was now trapped in that all too familiar cycle of self-deprecation and
>tfw no gf

He was halfway through the jug of vodka spooning his raifu when he heard a slight commotion coming from Chris's room. He put his phone down and listened closer, and heard her murmuring.
Chris poked her head out of her room a bit later, after spending several hours tossing and turning, and still being unable to sleep. It didn't help that she was feeling guilty over how she'd dismissed Dave earlier. She knew he was already sleeping, as she could hear him through the door. But she went over to the couch anyway, and sat beside him.

He was sprawled on one side, phone on the floor, the thread on the screen already archived. She picked up his phone and turned it off, placing it next to the empty vodka jug on the coffee table.

She watched him breathe for a while. Each time his chest rose and fell, it was punctuated with a snore. His mouth was half open, and she closed it herself to prevent him from drooling. That had the secondary effect of lowering the volume of his snores, which was rather welcome.

She watched him for a bit longer, before sliding closer to him, until her body was flush with his, and she put her weight against him. One of his arms was draped across his chest, and she lifted it up, putting it over her shoulders, as if he were holding her against him. He was too deep into his drunken sleep to notice, but she felt a little better for it. Made her feel a little less lonely.

He was getting nothing out of it, but she supposed she'd just make it up to him when he woke up.

She put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, and for the first time in a week, slept peacefully.
Chris sat beside him quietly. All he could manage was the occasional groan.

"So, I, uh, called up this car rental place, and got something so we can still get around..."

"Mhmm..."

"And I was planning on going to the grocery store, to pick up some things, if you ever wanted to try cooking agian..."

"Mhmm..."

"And, uh, I was checking through our e-mails, and we've got a couple more potential cases to check out..."

"Mhmmmm..."

"Would you stop fucking doing that and actually say something?"

"Chris, my fucking head feels like it's about to split open. Will you PLEASE give me some peace and fucking quiet..." He covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly.

The way he said that felt like a slap on her face. She bit her lip and stood up, heading back to her room to clean her weapons. "Whatever, have it your way."

She did this for a while, oiling the bolts of her rifles, before that nagging feeling of guilt took over again. After all, she was probably the reason he'd drank himself into a stupor in the first place.

She took a deep breath, swallowed her pride, and resolved to apologize to him.

He was drinking a cup of instant coffee, but put it down on the kitchen counter when she came out. He very much looked like he was still suffering from his hangover, but had recovered enough to walk around.

"Dave, listen..."

"Hold on, before you say anything," he said, cutting her off, "I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said earlier... I know you were only trying to help, trying to cheer me up... I had no right to snap at you that way."

She stood there and chuckled, and a smile came to her face. She walked over and gave him a hug.

"Took the words right out of my mouth."

"But I don't-"

"I was coming out here to apologize to you, actually. For being such a bitch." She buried her face in his chest, and they stood together in the kitchen like that for a few minutes. "Thanks for putting up with me."

Dave exhaled and closed his eyes, and held her just a bit tighter.

They clung to each other for a few more moments before pulling out of the hug.

"Are we good now?" asked Dave, still a bit unsure.

"Yeah. We're good. How's your head, by the way?"

"Not so bad, now."

"Feeling well enough to go running about the town for a few hours?"

"Uhh..."

"Well, too bad. Get some dark sunglasses or something, some fresh clothes, and then we're off to pick up a new car and go grocery shopping."

He groaned a bit, but otherwise complied, and she was left in the kitchen smirking.

Later...

Together, they picked up their rental car, which turned out to be a Hummer H2, much to Dave's delight. And after a quick grocery run, they settled back in her apartment.

Neither of them really felt like pursuing any new cases at the moment, and so they elected to spend the rest of the day watching movies on the couch. The Transporter, John Wick, and Starship Troopers were their picks.

As they watched, Chris scooted closer and closer to Dave's side, until eventually she coaxed him to put his arm around her shoulders, around the time Lieutenant Rasczak got his legs bitten off, and was telling Rico that he knew what to do. At first, Dave still wasn't quite sure whether or not she was going to punch him in the nuts, but eventually he grew more comfortable in the position.

When the movie finally ended, Chris yawned and put her head against Dave's shoulder.

"Tired now?"

"A bit... I haven't been sleeping well lately..."

"Anything I can do to help that, maybe?"

Chris smiled. "Yeah... can you stay here like this, with me?"

"I can do that," he responded, nodding.

"Great." She wrapped her arms around him and started to drift off.

Dave stayed awake for a while longer, watching the woman at his side. She looked peaceful. And moreover, he felt at ease, holding her like this. He didn't want to disturb her, so he adjusted his head so he wouldn't snore. Then drifted off to sleep as well.