Catacomb Heart

Peace and not so quiet

Meddling.

A word I was beginning to associate with Zak as I woke the next morning to a silent rental. I knew then that something was up. The sun was too high and bright in the sky for it to be early morning. That's when I realised that someone had been in my room. Turned off my alarm and had let me sleep in....

Zak.

I wasn't jumping to conclusions or pointing the finger wildly. No. My oh so handsome, serial killing (at least I kinda thought), ghost investigating boss, had left me a note.

You looked too peaceful to wake. Enjoy the day off and imagine what it would be like living with space and unlimited peace and quiet for your college work.

Now I knew that it was a sly jibe at the fact Joe's sister had temporarily moved in... Temporarily being the operative word. And everyone knew having a newborn in the apartment would be hard. Drew included as it meant he would actually have to scrape himself out of bed to smoke that joint.

But I wasn't even home yet and Zak was already making moves. Hell he would have me packed and moved in with him in minutes if it meant he could use me as target practice for his next kill spree..

Then there's the business with the cuffs.

The peace and quiet had left me to think about the situation back home. I would either be sleeping in Joe's bed, or on the couch. Despite Sarah being Joe's family, it was easier for her to have my room from the cleanliness and the fact that I was going to be out of the apartment the majority of the day and for a week at a time when the crew went away.

Although Zak said it was perfectly fine and even suggested the idea, I couldn't help think that maybe I would be intruding. The man pays for everything now, let alone having me move in. I have no doubt that I would work for my keep. But how would it look to everyone else? I'm his assistant, who is with him 24/7? We're bound to argue and fight right?

I need my space, sometimes I want to be with company, sharing a laugh and enjoying a deep meaningful conversation. But other times I'm quiet happy to rock out in a oversized tank top and panties with fuzzy socks watching my main man Dean Winchester on TV.

Joe and Drew had accepted that when Supernatural is on, their breathing is limited. Not a psycho way, but men breath like rabid dogs!

I could hardly walk around in my panties and take control of the TV for an hour once a week in my bosses home. That's not to mention all the crime programmes and documentaries I watch.

No. I couldn't do it. I'll have to put up with Joe and a screaming baby as much as possible or move into another shared apartment.

I clicked the tip of my pen rhythmically as I read the question over and listed my answers on a scrap piece of paper.

How can an upbringing in a disrupted family explain criminal behaviour?