Stephanie turned her full attention on the dessert and took the first stab into the cake. She wasn't too thrilled to find it was full of white when she was hoping for chocolate, but she still took a huge chunk for herself. "You want any?" she asked Bob, but he shook his head.
"Not hungry..." he muttered. He was still distracted by the door and their former visitor.
"Then I guess it's all for me," she replied with a shrug.
Bob wasn't the best companion the rest of the morning, what with him muttering about Gregory. Stephanie had to admit she was a little nervous about how the man had found their home. That meant they both jumped when there was a knock on the door in the early afternoon. Bob stalked toward the door before Stephanie could even make a move and he roughly pulled it open. Chuck stood there in some surprise at the quick greeting.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Bob barked.
Chuck didn't reply for a moment as his nostrils suddenly flared and his eyes widened. It was only for a moment, and then he was himself standing there. The only difference was his posture was a little more stiff than usual and his eyes shifted around the room as though he were looking for someone other than the two people he saw.
"I'm here to see if the Boss is ready to go pick up her meds," Chuck answered, but after that he ignored the man. His attention was on Stephanie as she came up to the door.
"You think they're ready?" she wondered.
"Probably. I would've checked myself but they don't answer questions from just anybody," he smiled as she grabbed her coat and keys.
"Well, we'd better go check then," she returned the gesture as she followed him outside. "We'll be right back," she called back to her husband, but he only continued to scowl at Chuck. All the men in her life were certainly growing more jealous.
It looked like Chuck at least had his vehicle now since it was parked in the street, but she insisted on taking her car.
"So what was with him?" Chuck asked as he slid into the driver's seat. He turned on the engine and began to back up. "I know him and I don't usually get along, but he opened that door like he was expecting someone else."
"I'm afraid Mr. Gregory came by earlier." The car suddenly braked to a stop and Stephanie grabbed for the dash as the seatbelt caught her from being shoved forward. Chuck's head snapped toward her so fast she was afraid he'd hurt himself. "What the hell was that for?" she asked her partner. He'd nearly given her whiplash in his reckless driving.
"Who came by?" he asked.
"Gregory," she angrily repeated. The look on his face scared her, though. It was filled with a mixture of deep hatred and severe concern. "He came by to see how he was doing."
"You told him where you live?" Chuck wondered, and his tone was a little angry.
"No, of course not," Stephanie shot back. "He said somebody told him about it."
"What did you do? Did he touch you?" her partner asked as he looked her over. He was almost frantic in his questions and manners.
"He only kissed my hand," she admitted. He quickly reached across and grabbed her hand. He pulled it toward himself to look over her fingers, and when she tried to take back her arm he gripped her tighter. "He also did this," she growled. Chuck frowned as he glanced up at her. "He creeped me out like you're doing."
Chuck froze at her words. She could see the indecision and concern in the depths of his eyes, but that only made her tired to see those emotions. She didn't want to deal with anyone else's problems and schizophrenic ideas right now. He sighed and let her hand go, which she then cradled in her lap.
"I'm sorry," he quietly apologized as he turned to look straight ahead.
"I'm hearing that a lot, but I'm not sure I believe it anymore," she replied as she turned her face away. She didn't want to see the pain in his eyes at her comment, and the car slowly began to back up again.
"I was just worried about you, Boss," Chuck continued while he swung the vehicle out into the street. "You've been through a lot these last few days and I was just worried he was going to do something, I don't know, weird."
"Like you just did?" she countered, and he cracked a smile.
"Yeah, I guess that was pretty weird," he admitted.
"Pretty weird?" she repeated as she glanced over to him. "More like really weird. Between me being so sick and you being so...so territorial over me, our business might be doomed in a week." It was meant to be a joke, but neither of them could deny that their relationship, and thus the business, was on rocky ground.
"Yeah, you're right there, Boss," Chuck agreed with a shake of his head. "And I know you're not going to like hearing this, Boss, but I really am sorry. You know, for the way I've been acting." He looked over to her. "Maybe both of us need a vacation or something. Some time to rest and recharge our batteries."
"With all these deadlines coming up?" Stephanie replied. She really was surprised he was suggesting that. He was the last person who wanted to leave a job unfinished.
"We could get some of the initial stuff over to them and see how they like it. You know, just some sketches at no extra charge," he suggested. "That way they can have something to look at and we can have a bit of time off."
"I'd really rather just get the work we have over with and take a break after the next conference," she told him. Now she was acting like the workaholic and he was the one trying to squirm his way out of doing the jobs.
"If that's what you want," he finally relented.
They drove to the pharmacy and picked up her prescription without any more arguments, or even much in the way of conversation. Chuck was obviously troubled by her insistence, though not outright displeased, and she just wanted to drop the whole subject altogether. The return to her home was quick, but their parting was not painless. She walked around to the driver's side of the car as Chuck slowly got out.
"I'll be fine," Stephanie tried to reassure him. She looked down and shook the bottle in her hand. The pills were good for a few weeks, and then she'd have to go back into the doctor's office for a follow-up. "These should help me a lot."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, but his question only confused her.
"Why shouldn't they help?" she countered as she glanced at him. He shook his head and turned away.
"I don't know, I guess I don't trust doctor's and their medicines," Chuck admitted.
"Well, that does explain why you've never used your sick leave all these years," she teased.
"I've got a strong constitution," he replied with a shrug. "But seriously, Boss, I just don't think that stuff's going to be good for you."
"You worry about this after I've paid for it and everything?" she joked, but her face fell on his serious expression. He really didn't want her to take the medication. "If I don't take this I could have another attack, and I just don't feel like going back to the hospital," she defended herself. "I hear the food there's pretty bad."
"If you're not going to listen to me about taking that stuff, at least pay attention to any side effects," Chuck pleaded.
"All right, all right," she sighed. "I promise I'll watch out for any side effects." Then she frowned and thought about that promise for a moment. "What side effects were you thinking about?"
"I...I don't really know myself," he admitted, and her mouth dropped open in disbelief. "I'm not perfect, Boss, but just trust me on this. That stuff isn't going to help you much."
"Well, doc, I guess we'll just have to see if you're right," Stephanie replied. That headache was really pounding in her head now. "But I think I need to go lay down now. I've got a massive headache that a bunch of men aren't making any better. I'll try to get into work tomorrow if I'm feeling all right."
"Don't try too hard, Boss, that stuff'll keep for a while longer," her partner answered.
"I'm kind of hoping to get back in there. That'd mean I'm that much better," she pointed out as she turned toward the door. "Anyways, talk to you tomorrow one way or the other."
"Later, Boss," Chuck called back as she went inside. He
looked after her for a long moment with concern and some other indiscernible expression on his face, and then he drove away.
"I'm home," Stephanie hollered after she'd closed the door behind herself. She heard the sound of a phone quickly put down and her husband stepped out of the kitchen.
"Hey, hun, get your meds?" he asked.
"Yeah, no problems there," she replied with a raised brow. She stepped up to him and glanced passed her husband to see his cell phone on the counter. "Been calling your girlfriend or something?" She was surprised when his face blanched and a shaky smile slid onto his lips.
"Um, no, just doing some chores and stuff," he brushed aside. "So how often are you supposed to take that stuff?" he asked as she set the bottle of pills down on the counter.
"Just twice a day until gone," she answered as she wandered over to the couch. She sighed as she plopped herself down. It was nice to sit down and really rest for a bit.
"For how long?" he persisted.
"I don't know, whenever I run out," Stephanie shrugged. She didn't really care, either, as long as it made her feel better. "Anything good on this time of day?"
"Not really, but I got some errands to run this afternoon," her husband announced. After he grabbed his phone and wallet from the kitchen counter, he stepped up beside the couch and glanced down at her. "You gonna be okay for a few hours by yourself?"
"Yeah, no problem," she murmured as she absently flipped through the channels. There was never anything good on. "I'll probably just take a nap or something."
"That's a good idea," Bob encouraged. "There's some more cake in the fridge and some tv dinners in the freezer if you get hungry."
"Mhm," she answered. The feel of the soft, comfy couch beneath her was making her very sleepy.
"Later, hun," he gave his farewells, punctuated with a kiss on her forehead.
Bob paused only to give one more glance to the figure peeking over the back of the couch. The look on his face wasn't the kind, worrying, attentive husband he was making himself out to be. Rather, there was that dark expression in the depths of his narrowed eyes which, if Stephanie would have glanced over to see, would have made her blood run cold. Then he was gone on his errands.
When Bob returned several hours later, night had already fallen and it was about dinner time. After he'd closed the door behind himself, he was more than a little surprised to see the head still peeking above the couch. He put down a few groceries he'd picked up and slowly, silently eased his way over to the seat. He cautiously peeked over the edge and realized she was only dozing. His face drooped with disappointment when her chest moved up and down in rhythmic breathing.
"Have you been sleeping there the entire time?" he asked loud enough to wake her. He didn't see any sign of food having been eaten in the kitchen.
"Wha? Hunh?" she startled awake. She jerked up and looked around, and then she saw her concerned husband beside the couch. "Oh, um, back already?"
"It's almost six," he blandly pointed out as he nodded toward the sliding glass door beyond the tv. She leaned over and looked outside.
"Wow, that late already, hunh?" Stephanie sheepishly replied. She slid a goofy grin on her face and stretched her arms. "Well, I'm feeling a lot better."
"Good, because you're probably not going to sleep tonight," Bob answered as he jerked his thumb toward the kitchen. "And I've got some food for dinner if you're hungry."
"Starving," she accepted as she jumped to her feet.
The meal wasn't what she'd hoped with pre-cooked meat and some beans from a can, but Stephanie ate the dead animal with gusto. Bob watched her quickly consume the meat with something akin to disgust and fascinated horror. It was like watching a train wreck with no survivors. She even scraped the fat off the bottom of her plate, and then swallowed her antibiotic pill for the night. After that horror show was over, they watched a couple of movies together before their usual bedtime.
Unfortunately for Stephanie, her husband's prediction about her sleeping came true. They went to bed at ten, and at midnight she was on her back staring with frustration at the ceiling. Bob lay beside her fast asleep and without any idea that she'd been tossing and turning for the last two hours. It didn't help that she felt uncomfortably warm beneath all the sheets, and she unceremoniously tossed them aside. That made her feel better, but it did nothing for the itching in her legs. She felt like she just needed to walk around for a little while to get that feeling out and maybe get her tired enough to sleep at least a few hours.
With her plan formed, Stephanie sat up and glanced around the dark room. The light from the waxing crescent moon streamed into the bedroom and she got up to wander over to the large windows. It was another clear, warm night, and she opened the window to take a deep breath of that fresh air. That's when she smelled something rotten, and she looked down onto the yard.
The damn neighbor's dog was sitting there on its haunches crapping in her yard.
"Hey!" she yelled, though not loud enough to wake her comatose husband. "Get the hell off there! Shoo!"
The canine only glanced over its shoulder to look at her and finished his business. Then, adding insult to injury, the dog kicked up its feet and grass flew everywhere. There was now a big pile of crap and uprooted grass in the center of the lawn. The dog trotted away, very content with itself and the present it had left her. Stephanie sighed and closed the window. The fresh air was no longer there, and she felt none of the pull from the moon. Maybe it was the husband lightly snoring in the background, or maybe it was the inconsistent light as a few scattered, lazy clouds brushed in front of the moon.
Either way, Stephanie returned to bed and turned over for a few more hours before exhaustion finally took its toll. At three in the morning, she finally drifted off to a fitful sleep.
Stephanie didn't wake up feeling any better than when she'd gone to sleep. She slammed her hand down on the alarm and sat up before she'd even woken up. Her eyes were half closed when she swung her legs over the side of the bed and wandered around the bedroom preparing for the usual day of work. Usually she managed to be silent and creeping, but this morning it was more like lumbering. She even woke her husband up when she slammed into the door frames leading into the bathroom.
"What was that?" he groggily replied as he lifted his head. He noticed her standing there rubbing her bruised arm. "You hurt yourself?"
"I'm fine," she grumbled back, and she shuffled into the bathroom for a nice, hot shower.
When Stephanie came out of the small room clothes and her skin bright red from the water, she was a little perkier. She certainly avoided any more door frames and made her way safely downstairs. There she ate breakfast, popped her prescription pill and took off for work. She wasn't entirely up to her normal standards when she arrived, but Chuck was glad when she entered the office and he looked into her face.
"You're looking a little better," he congratulated. He didn't dare mention the pouches beneath her eyes, though, which bespoke her almost sleepless night.
"And feeling a little better," she replied with a happy smile. "Just need to get that work done and off on its way, then we can get the next conference scheduling taken care of and plan for some vacation."
"That medication not giving you any side effects?" he asked before she could head to the back. She turned to him and frowned.
"I just started taking it last night," Stephanie pointed out. "If there are going to be any effects, I probably won't see any of them for a few more days."
"Well, tell me if anything's different, okay?" he pleaded with her. He was so serious and looked so concerned she couldn't bring herself to say no.
"Yes, mother," she playfully teased, and she skipped into the back area before he could resent that remark.
The rest of the day was actually uneventful but for a single incident near the end. Stephanie heard the front phone ring and it was, as usual, promptly answered by her partner. She was half afraid it was one of the clients wanting an early example, and opened the d
oor separating the two areas to listen in on the conversation.
"Hello?" Chuck greeted. There was the normal pause while the other person spoke, but this was followed by a most unusual, and definitely violent, answer from her easy-going partner. "Don't call here ever again. You hear me? She's off limits, period." Chuck tried to keep his voice low enough, but the anger in his tone reverberated throughout the entire office. "I don't care what you think, or what any of the others think. This is my problem, and I'm going to be dealing with it."
Chuck roughly slammed the receiver down on the poor phone. He then slumped over his desk with his face in his hands. She didn't have the heart to go back to work and leave him in such evident misery. Instead she quietly slunk out of the backroom and approached him.
"Something wrong?" she whispered, and he started backward.
"What? Oh, that, no," he tried to brush aside, but he didn't turn around when he spoke to him. He evidently didn't trust himself to lie to her face, but she wasn't that naive to believe him, anyway.
"Sure did sound like it was something," Stephanie replied as she stepped around to the front of his desk. He turned away and hid half his face behind his hand. "Looks like I'm not the only one with problems, hunh?"
"Just...just some personal troubles. I'll make sure they won't call again," he quickly promised. She wondered if he would have promised her the moon right then just to get her to stop asking questions.
"Come on, Chuck, we've known each other this long," she insisted as she boosted herself to sit on top of his old desk. "Why are we keeping these secrets now?"
"Shouldn't I be asking the same thing?" he countered. He dropped his hands and glared at her. "What's with keeping that whole getting-attacked-in-the-alley thing to yourself?"
"I...I just didn't want to worry you over nothing," she answered as she shifted uncomfortably atop the desk. "You know, it was just some sort of scratch from a wild dog, anyway."
"A wild dog that happened to give you some sort of poisoning," Chuck added, and then he heavily sighed. Her partner leaned back in his chair and looked her straight in the eyes. "You're right, though. Neither of us should be keeping secrets from one another. It'll just make things uglier later on."