good arms vs bad arms || solo
Detroit had been a timely reminder of exactly how much Tay has changed in the few months she's spent in Oregon. The city was as familiar as a well worn dress, but she had quickly found that the stains and fleas that graced it would never leave, no matter how hot the wash was. She hated it. Leo had been the only saving grace of weeks of hard work, of being in a place which was no longer home.
Tay can't help but smile when she thinks of her brother. When she'd first seen him, having separately checked into in a motel where rooms were rented by the hour and the clerk had told Tay she was too pretty to be a hooker, Tay hadn't even been able to speak. Instead, she'd launched herself into his arms and they'd held each other so tightly Tay was sure they were going to suffocate each other before they let go. The rest of the night had been spent eating junk food, filling each other in on the state of the hunter alliance, home and overseas. Leo had been thin but strong, his mind sharp as a stake. Slowly, a tentative plan had come together, to protect both of their safety.
Leo had come back to the US with news that the hunters at Hailgrove would need to know, and that was why Tay is driving through the night. She glances across at the brown file which is sitting on the passenger seat; cargo so important that Leo wouldn't even let her photocopy it, so instead it was painstakingly written out in her scrawling hand. It had been hard enough to persuade him to let her return to Hailgrove; placating his paranoia about government infiltration had been a small price to pay for his blessing to leave. The truck was his way of telling her that he didn't blame her for going.
It's not until she reaches the edge of town, streets which scream with the silence of a school-night after the bars have closed, that she realises that she isn't sure where she's supposed to be going. Her mind pulls up a picture of Sam, the morning that she'd left. How she'd dropped by his office with a duffel bag of clothes, and he'd known immediately that she was leaving, how it was written all over both of their faces. The only small consolation was that neither of them had the time for long, drawn-out goodbyes; he had class, she a bus to catch. She'd left both the keys to his apartment and her cell on the pillow of the bed they'd shared, knowing he'd see them when he got home, knowing he'd understand her confession; I might not be coming back.
No, going to Sam wasn't possible right now. She can't let herself get distracted by what they may or may not have, by the idea that Sam might have moved on, might have met someone else. Her mind races, and she's circling the campus when she notices lights still on in an office that she shouldn't be familiar with, but of course she is.
There's a part of Tay that wishes that her news wasn't so important that it couldn't keep til morning, but now that she knows Anna is awake, the brown envelope next to her feels more like an explosive device than a list of what may be coming. She parks in the lot furthest from Anna's building, and keeps her head down as she lets herself in. (No one knows you're here you may as well exploit that for as long as possible.) She doesn't knock at the door with the 'Professor Novotny' plaque; slipping inside and immediately locking it behind her.
Throwing training, etiquette, out of the window, she sits at the chair in front of her superior's desk, pushing the documents out in front of her. "You need to read these; now. I'll wait."
