Weetzie Bat (mandrakesky) wrote in spindlesend, @ 2010-05-29 09:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | faith lehane, weetzie bat |
Who: Dr. Weetzie Bat and Faith
Where: The gym/workout room
When: Around 3:30 PM on Saturday
Rating: TBA
Her apartment was just... empty. Her weekends lately had been rather lackluster, mainly because her darling genius sweetheart boyfriend was often working until nearly dawn each night with his friends back at the BAU, and he never had time to see her on those nights. She knew she was being childish by not being more forgiving of his schedule, because Reid was only one man and he was big into duty and promises and honor and responsibility. She just wished the BAU would find a new super-genius to employ and stop calling her poor boyfriend into cases he wasn't actually involved with anymore.
She had thought maybe she'd get some shopping done, or go into town and catch a movie, but nothing sounded good. She had reinacted that damn Jewel song that morning, staring listlessly into her bowl of cereal and wondering why she'd even bothered. It was gloomy outside, overcast with the heavy threat of rain, and Weetzie sighed, looking over at the two dogs eyeing her expectantly.
"You can't come with me... if it rains I can't have muddy paws on everything," she told them, watching two pair of little ears droop. "Don't be sad. I'll bring you back something special, and maybe tonight we'll go for a good run," she promised, gently scratching Go Go Girl beneath her chin.
A good run. That actually sounded therapeutic, like something that might snap her out of her funk. She used to run all the time in LA, silver-white shoes laced onto her feet, racing up and down the roads in the canyon, smelling jacaranda blossoms and mobile taco stands and watching former starlets water their lawns and old movie heartthrobs pick up their morning papers in arthritic fingers. A pang twisted in her chest for Los Angeles, her lost city, and she sighed, went to dress.
The bus ride to the Cheshire-convenient stop was short and uneventful, and Weetzie stepped off, jingling her keys quietly as she hummed a New York Dolls song. She made her way up to the property, grinning and waving at the security guard who smirked and buzzed her in. "Working on the weekends, doc?" he asked curiously. "Hope it's nothing serious."
"You know me, can't stay away," she returned with a smile, heading through the lobby after swiping her badge. She was actually going to the gym, with a quick pitstop by her office first to snag her yoga mat and a fresh towel.
The gym was quiet at this time of day; she had a feeling that most of the patients who used it were probably under heavy supervision anyway, and on the weekends there was rarely as much staff as during the week. Weetzie saluted the two muscled orderlies guarding the room, who grinned at the chipper little blonde and nodded back almost in unison.
Weetzie stretched to warm up, then set her keys, towel and mat down by the treadmill. She'd run a mile, maybe two, and then follow it with an intensive yoga session. She needed to center herself, needed to find some kind of ground to stabilize. Her mind was chaotic and she didn't feel like herself lately. These sad spells and morose melancholies were not who she really was.
She was so focused on her running (the treadmill cranked up to 11 miles an hour, and her feet racing so fast she almost couldn't focus on anything else, which was the point), a black bandana holding her short white dreadlocks out of her youthful face, that she didn't notice when someone else entered the gym, causing the two orderlies to perk up and look alive.