RP: Too tired When: January 25, 2004 Who: Cass, Percy Where: Cass' flat Private/Public: Private Rating: TBA, likely all ages Summary: Cass comes back from work and feels as if he'd not slept in two days...oh wait, he hasn't.
When he'd returned from Scotland, he'd thought he'd get the weekend off. A night with Percy, perhaps some time on Saturday and Sunday as well and if he was lucky then maybe he would have been able to persuade Percy that having sex did not mean risking anything and that sex and relationships went well together.
Not that he'd know the first thing about relationships of course, but he wanted to know. And he wanted Percy, and being with him only to send him home at night was sometimes a bit frustrating.
All such hoped had vanished with the murders, though. The moment he'd set foot back into the flat after dinner, he'd been called in, then yelled at for not being at home when needed, then put to work. He hadn't even stopped working until now, and the added pressure of yet another disappearance did not make it better. And then the picture of Lestrange of all the people in the world.
Fuck. The entire department was in uproar. They'd all assumed he was out of the country long ago, their intel had seemed to suggest it even and half the time the guys normally working on bringing him in had so much contact with foreign Auror offices that they were on a first name basis with most of the guys down at International Co-operations.
Sighing, Cass threw away the portkey he'd used to get home, not trusting his ability to Apparate when he hadn't slept in what felt like days – wait, when he thought of it, was days. The nap he'd mastered in the break room hardly counted after all. He moved as if in a trance as he got out of his robes and into the shower, and in spite of Percy's cleaning he could not be arsed to pick the robes off the floor as he stumbled back out clad in nothing but a towel. He didn't even have the energy to dry himself off properly before he collapsed face first on the bed, towel still wrapped around his hips.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt guilty about the robes, and somewhere in the same place in his mind he knew he should probably prepare for the fact that Percy might be coming over. He'd sent him a note asking him to whenever he was finished before leaving the office, after all. His body did not want to listen to that part of the brain though, and even before he'd had time to decide if he should or shouldn't make it, he was fast asleep.