Floyd walked down the hall of his home, starting down the stairs, and halting only a step or two down. His reason for halting his late night walk about the house was seeing someone standing at the bottom of those very steps, waiting, it seemed, for him. He didn’t reach for his gun, he didn’t tell the intruder to stop where they were. Even in the dark lighting he knew who it was. He could never mistake her for anyone else.
Yevette stood there, looking positively radiant. Her black hair was curled and spilling over her shoulders—like ink against the paper white of her skin. She wore a long dress that shined brightly into Floyd’s eyes, a contrast to the darkness of the room they stood in. But all of this wasn’t why she was so radiant. It was for a different reason. It was because she was her. An angel to the ragged man at the top of the stairs.
Floyd blinked and blinked again, but this seemed to be the only movement her could muster. He couldn’t reach his hand out and try to beckon her closer, he couldn’t move his legs down the steps, he couldn’t even move his lips or tongue in order to form the words he really wanted to say. Lucky for him, Yevette decided to move up the stairs, quickly towards him, stopping a step short of being on the same one as him. He blinked at her and she blinked back, then gave one of those impossibly beautiful smiles of hers. The one that never failed to make his heart seemingly speed up and melt all at the same time.
“Floyd,” she said and even though it was a whisper, the sound of her voice filled his ears. It didn’t seems quite the same, though. It was smoother and more melodic than the last time he’d heard her speak. He started to count the days, but then she reached out for him, going to caresses his cheek with her soft, delicate fingers. Floyd closed his eyes and imagined, imagined hard what those fingers—what that palm—would feel like in the moments just before she touched him. He had to imagine because that’s all he was going to get. Because she would never—could never—touch him ever again. Floyd was right as a moment later there was nothing but air where Yevette had once stood.
The more days that passed since Yevette was killed, the more often this happen to Floyd. If he was having conversations with his dead brother, then he was seeing his dead wife. He never knew when her jarring image—her in that dress, with her hair effortless, her voice like the ring of a bell, and an unnatural glow—would turn up. Usually it was at night, when his insomnia was just kicking in. She wandered about the house, never saying much more than his name. She was dancing to a song in front of the TV, beckoning him forth to an airy embrace. She dwelled on the porch, wishing on stars that she saw up in the sky. She was cooking in the kitchen and reading in their bed and singing in their shower. Her laugh seemed to always be heard just around the next corner. And the next. And the next. And the next…
(If not obvious from the gif, it gets a little saucy)
Floyd had been neglecting his duties as a boyfriend—it was actually more common than he’d like to admit. It was just his job. It sucked you in like a vortex. It always demanded more of you than you could really give. And yet you’d still try. Anyone who’d ever gone into police work or criminal justice knew how it was. It felt like the burden of protecting the world was on you and you alone. One mistake, one miscalculation and a killer escapes. A drug lord still rules. A child gets taken. You fail. And every time that you fail you realize how you can’t save everyone and you can’t fix everything. On really bad days it was more like you can save anyone and you can’t fix anything. But most tried not to think about those days.
Try as other outside of the work might, but they can never quite grasp the mindset of a cop or agent. They certainly were a breed all their own. Yevette was one of the more understanding ones. At least in Floyd’s experience. But some days she just wouldn’t have it. Usually Floyd could tell when those days were coming. It was always near the end of a very stressful, all day and all night case. She’d first just get irked and constantly try to pull him away from work, then she’d get a bit snappy, until finally she’ll claim she’s had enough and Floyd would, of course, chase after her.
This time, however, he’d been just too wrapped up in a disturbing case of a child pornography ring to notice all the tell-tale signs. So, when Floyd didn’t chase after her after she’d had just about enough she came up with an idea. A wonderful, awful idea.
Floyd was putting all his papers together in his office for a briefing when Yevette strode on in in her black trench coat. Floyd paused, a bit confused. It wasn’t exactly coat-weather outside, but, his mind too focused on the case, brushed it off, “Have a briefing to do,” he mutter quickly to her before moving to brush past her. Yevette stuck her hand out to stop him. She didn’t actually make contact, but the gesture alone caused Floyd to pause, “What? I’m in a bit of a hurry…”
"I had a better idea, though," Yevette smirked and opened her trench coat to reveal what little clothing she was wearing. Just some frilly undergarments.
Floyd stiffened and his eyes darted around wildly even though he knew that there were no window from the station into his office and the blinds were drawn on the windows looking outside, “Yevette…not here…” he told her under his breath and hurried past him, knowing he really didn’t have that much resolve around situations of that nature. He just caught Yevette pouting out of the corner of his eye before making it out of the office.
Floyd started up the briefing, gathering everyone on the entire force into the briefing room. Most of the large windows had their blinds drawn. The only section that didn’t was the large window directly in Floyd’s line of view. It was his surveillance tactic. Floyd was ten minutes into the briefing when Yevette appeared in that very same window with a look that clearly said he had been asking for it. As her trench coat dropped to the floor Floyd’s focus only wavered slightly—not enough to actually raise alarm among anyone. He continued on, trying not to watch as Yevette put her arms behind her back to accentuate her chest, swinging back and forth lightly, and looking like she was innocent. She wasn’t. Not to Floyd at least. Clearing his mind of everything but the case, he moved on. Yevette turned around, as if to leave—Floyd would’ve been very grateful for that—but she didn’t.
Her hands gently reached up her back and unhooked her bra. And Floyd’s first thought was "Hey, that’s my job,” before losing complete focus. Everyone, confused by his sudden stop, turned to where he had been staring. Yevette, clever girl she was, moved out of the view in time so that no one saw her. Floyd regained his focus and everyone looked back to him. The moment he felt back in control Yevette stepped back into view. Her bra straps had slipped down her arms and she was just holding up the bra cups to her chest—and she looked just about ready to drop that as well. Floyd, flustered and unfocused quickly wrapped up the briefing—making sure to give Yevette a look that said get out of here—before directing everyone’s attention to McVerden, who had the paperwork.
Floyd excused himself from the room. Thinking that he’d be so mad with Yevette in that moment if he didn’t love her so much.
Frustration. That was the best word to describe Yevette's range of emotions at this current moment. It was the best way to sum them up. If you wanted to nip pick though, she was three parts understanding, five parts annoyed, two parts sad, and ten parts lonely. She looked at the clock, yet again, and sighed. An hour. She had had dinner waiting for over an hour.She sighed at the now cold dinner. It wasn't much... And she debated on throwing them away. But the steaks were cooked perfectly. Sighing, she decided, one last time. She would try one last time to get Floyd into the kitchen.
She had originally gone in there when she was finished cooking, giving him a ten minute warning so she could pull the table together and he could finish up. Once it was set, she went in there. He said give him an minute. A minute turned to five, which ultimately meant ten. So she gave him the time. Going in at a half hour. Again he said one minute. She had sighed and went back to the kitchen. Now it was an hour and she was well past her understanding point.
She knew he was on a case. it was adding alot of pressure to him. And she understood how important his job was to him. What he sacrificed. She did what she could, listening to him when needed, whether it be to distress about a case or to talk things out to understand what was going on better. It wasn't like she actually understood half of what he was saying, but she tried to help the best she could.
But she was still a woman who wanted some attention, like most women do. She didn't mind coming in second to his job sometimes. But only sometimes. In all reality, she was one of the most understanding women out there.She didn't mind the late hours usually. And while the phone calls pulling him away from her either during dinner or a date or, even worse, in the middle of the night, were annoying, she lived with them and put up with them. Why? For the simple fact she loved him. But this... This was the third date in a row. Yevette went up to his office door and knocked before poking her head in.
"Dinners getting cold, if it isn't already." She said to Floyd, softly. He didn't even look up from his papers, just muttering a bit. She stepped all the way in and leaned on the door frame. "It's been over an hour. I could reheat it... Or i could package it up, save it for.. whenever.." She was trying her hardest to be polite about the entire situation. But her patience were wearing thin.
"No. I'll be there in a minute." He said, again not looking up. Yevette just stood there. She hadn't eaten yet and he knew it. After a moment, he paused and looked up at her. She was looking down at her feet. "Why don't you go ahead and get started. I'll meet you in there in a moment." He said before looking back down at his paperwork and case files. He didn't see her shake her head.
"No. I was waiting for you. We're supposed to be eating dinner as a couple. And a moment with you could be whenever. Last time you told me one moment, it was an hour ago. An hour, Floyd." She said, harsher than she wanted. Floyd looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "It's been so long the food went cold."
"Yevette." He said when she had stopped talking. "I'm in the middle of a case. You know how important it is that i solve it and get it done right, the best I can. I need to have all my attention on the case." He stood up and walked around from behind his desk only to lean on the front end, looking at her. "You know how important it is." Yevette looked at him. she took a couple steps into the room.
"Yeah. I know. You're job is important. I get it. Okay? haven't you figured it out, all the interrupted dinners, all the dates you've had to hastily run away from and I had to awkwardly pick up the check? All the cold nights of being woken up when you get called in and the later rolling over onto your cold side of the bed? I never once complained because I know how important your job is to you. But," She sighed and looked down at her shoes. "I want to feel important too. It's not fair to me, to us." She looked up, anger now being to show in her voice and face. "This is now the third date, THIRD, Where I was pushed to the side. Because of this same case. Tonight was supposed to be our night." There was silence between the two for a moment.
"I'm sorry." Floyd found himself saying. "I'm sorry you having been feeling unimportant f like you're second rate. I don't mean to make you feel that. You are important. It's just..." Floyd trailed off, searching for the right words. The only thing is, there were no right words, but the silence was enough. Yevette bit her lip and looked down. "Yevette..." He said softly, taking a step towards her. Yevette shook he head and backed away. She looked up at anger.
"I get it. I'm not as important as that case. Or any case. It'll always come first." Then something inside Yevette snapped, it was evident on her face. "Well fine. So sorry I made Tin Man Marshall actually start to have a heart! Just go back to being that cold and caluse man you were before!" And with that, Yevette rushed out of the room, grabbing her coat and her purse, out of the house. Floyd sighed and sat dow, looking again at the case files on the desk. But he couldn't concentrate. It wasn't fair to her.
Getting up, he moved into the living room, but, as he heard from the front door slamming, Yevette was no longer here. He looked out the window to see that her car was still here. She probably didn't want to chance him coming out and stopping her. But that meant she was walking home in the snow. He grabbed his own coat and ran out the door. Thankful that, not only had it been a quiet night, but that his girlfriend wore heels practically non-stop, he followed her shoe prints in the new fallen snow. Soon he saw her figure down the street.
"Yevette!" He called rushing down the street. The woman froze. He caught up to her and grabbed her arm. Spinning her, he kissed her softly. "You're right." He said. "You're right about everything. It's not fair that i rush out of our dates or our dinners. Its not fair I'm forced to leave the warmth of one of our beds in the middle of the night and need to leave you alone. It's not fair I don't get to always give you the attention you deserve. And It's certainly not fair that I've been putting this case above you. It's not a murder or a kidnapping. It's a robbery! I am so grateful that you've always been so understand about my job. And you're right, tonight was your night." Yevette was listening to him as the snow fell softly around them, making her black hair the negative of the dress under her jacket. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "When you said that, about who I was, I realized I was doing it again. I don't want to become Cold and caluse again. I don't want to be seen as heartless ever again." Floyd looked down at his feet. "I don't want to lose you to the job. I... I can't." Yevette swallowed hard and bit her lip.
"I'm...." She started to choke out, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to snap. That wasn't fair of me." Floyd looked at her, into her eyes, and shook his head.
"No, you had every right to snap at me." He said to her. "I'm sorry I haven't been attentive lately. i'm sorry I made you feel like second best. You're not. I get to come home to the most beautiful woman in Salem who keeps my bed warm at night." there was a flicker of a smile on her face. Floyd slid his hands down her arms to her hands and held them. "Now. I do believe I owe you a dinner." He said, taking her hand and leading her back to his place.
