Bury the Past (bury_the_past) wrote in haunted_roads, @ 2008-03-19 09:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | silva |
Week Four: Wednesday
When: Late Night
Where: Police Station
Who: Silva – Narrative unless someone would/could be around there, then open
“Time to head on home Silva” it was a statement that seemed to be played like a broken record all night. Different voices, different tones, but always the same words. Silva regarded the other like she had all else tonight, a brief glance and then straight back to work. Often they’d sigh; some even chuckled or shook their heads. Most knew she wasn’t going to listen. There wasn’t anything at home waiting for her, so what was the rush to get back? A drink and a bed were her only prizes to look forward to and they weren’t in such high demand tonight that she was willing to walk away from her work. The work wouldn’t go anywhere over night, wouldn’t magically disappear never to be finished again. But that didn’t matter; Silva had that inability to walk away until it was all seen to.
Files were scattered around the desk, various means of information on the newest lead in drugs. New faces were always looking to pop up and take the place of whoever had just fallen. There was no real end to it and in a way, that’s why Silva stayed in this field. She needed the work that kept her busy, kept her constantly swamped. Not that any crime field had breaks really. Someone was always killing, raping, robbing….nature of the beast. In her field there weren’t many sob stories though. The guys involved knew what the fuck they were doing.
“Getting late…” another muttered as they walked by, not as though they had much room to talk considering they, too, were still here at their desks working. “Thanks for the update.” Silva returned, grabbing up her half filled mug and taking a swig. Lips twisted as the cold bitter coffee touched her tongue. It seemed like only a few minutes ago she got up to get the cup but it had been hours now at least, if not even longer then that. She was too busy pouring over the details, picking apart the facts, to care about keeping tabs on her coffee.
A paragraph finished, she shifted to get up and get that coffee but the cop dubbed “puppy” was there already grabbing it up and smiling oh so brightly. He hadn’t been here long enough to become jaded or get that darkness about the corners of his eyes. No he was still cheerful, eager, so damn eager to do “good” in the world. Was a surprise he didn’t run around clapping and cheering go team go! He was exceptionally cheerful around Silva, she wondered more then once if he thought that “cheery’ would rub off on her or something. If he did he was aiming for a loss. All it did was ride Silva’s last nerve sometimes.
At least she offered up a “Thanks” when he rushed off to get her a fresh cup of the less then best coffee the place had going for it. Silva didn’t care right about now though. Coffee was coffee when it was this late. How late wasn’t a question she was looking for answer to. Her desktop didn’t even have a clock and her cellphones were buried away in the pocket of her jacket to be forgotten.
Two seconds later the puppy was back, carefully setting the coffee mug to the edge of her desk away from the papers. Smart kid but it wasn’t really going to earn him any brownie points. Especially not when he decided to open up his mouth. “So…sure you’re hungry by now. How about we grab some food?” it was a statement that probably needed to have a bunch of exclamation points at the end. Why he kept thinking she had some interest in him she had no idea. No hints, no flirting, no sign at all that she even really saw him. Yet he always came barking up this wrong tree.
Silva nudged the bag down by her garbage, take out food. “About four hours too late. Sure Mary wouldn’t mind.” Divert that attention to another female in the room. Too bad for her that it never seemed to work. He just smiled brightly and gave the often spoken “maybe later then!” to which Silva would just nod and go right back to work.
Tonight wasn’t any different.