died8yearsago | Office #26; Friday Afternoon [11/01].

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Office #26; Friday Afternoon [11/01].

So Rosa had sent Fandom's newest reigning Bad Ass Bitch on an extra assignment, then went home after class for a power nap because she had literally not slept since Wednesday. Then it was back to her rarely used office, just in case Beniko had anything to report.

Or anyone else for that matter.

Either way, she was there, and she was finally doing what she was always thinking about doing, which was actually utilizing this otherwise unused space for a personal yoga studio. It was nice, being able to go from Downward-Facing to Upward-Facing Dog without an actual dog trying to wedge herself into the mix because she thought it was Jump On Bendy Mom And Get In Her Way Every Two Seconds Playtime.

She needed to do this more often.

[[ door closed, post open, with a very much 'work is gonna eat me, I can just feel it' warning! ]]

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Rosa wondered if Duke could feel her eyeroll from through the door; it definitely felt like it should have been felt even if the door was made of steel.

She slowly let out another breath, straightened into a mountain pose, and lifted her left leg into a tree.

"Did you," she said, her voice exhibiting amazing restraint...just think about it, imagine her if she didn't have the yoga to chill her out... "or did you not come to my office just to inform me that my student is a good negotiator?"

Duke couldn't feel it, no. But he definitely assumed it was happening.

He didn't assume any of the yoga was happening, and if the squirrels decided to mention it on the radio tomorrow, he was going to be annoyed that he couldn't just somehow sense it.

"I did not," he said. "I also figured I'd check to see if you needed the thing back or not. I mean, considering it looks like you just kind of scrawled some words on it with a sharpie, I'd guess 'no', but it can be nice to ask anyway."

And there was now proof that Duke was full of shit, because she knew for a fact that those hatchets were nice. Unless Beniko actually negotiated with him with another, completely janky-ass fake, in which case...she would be so proud of that girl.

She slowly started to extend the branch of the tree to her side.

"Don't let Blackstone hear you talking crap about her workmanship like that," Rosa warned coolly. "She'll be so hurt."

"So you do want it back, then?" Duke asked. "Because that could be arranged."

"I don't care," said Rosa, an exasperated tone finally leaking into her voice, as that branch started growing high over her head, her leg practically to her ear, because, hell yeah, she could do that. "Do whatever you want with it."

He could shove it right up his ass for all she cared. But she would definitely not want it back then.

And the fact that she hadn't said that was proof in the pudding that the yoga was working, thank you.

"Cool. Good to know." She was still pretty easy to work up, though. Like, she could just say 'no thanks', but no, she had to get all angry about him thinking she might care about something. "You do this heist assignment thing a lot? Because I gotta say: kind of a weird choice for a cop."

"Oh, yeah, right," said Rosa, lowering the branch again, twisting her leg behind her, holding her foot, arching her back toward it. "I forgot you're such an expert on cops. Let me go rewrite my whole syllabus; should I submit it for approval by Tuesday?"

Now it was Duke's turn to roll his eyes. Because yes, he knew enough about cops to know that teaching kids to plan heists was not typical behavior for them, thanks.

"Oh, no need to rush. Thursday should work just fine."

But the whole thing was based on heists by cops. In Rosa's opinion, that made it perfectly legit and acceptable.

"Gee, thanks," said Rosa dryly; she was just going to keep arching into this one right now. "You're so generous."

“I am,” Duke agreed easily. “It’s all part of my easy-going nature.”

Or the one he tried to convince people he had, anyway.while being paranoid and needy.

Rosa wondered exactly where annoying as hell fit in with all that easy-going.

Her next breath out was much more of a sigh than she would have liked it to have been, shaking her head, and slowly unfolding out of her pose. On to the other side, slowly, methodically, and deliberately not bothering to respond to that one at all.

Duke let the silence hang for a moment. Two, even. Then: “Okay, but seriously, why a heist?”

"Uuggghhhhhh!" The question landed just as Rosa put her foot down again, and she lost it for just a moment, tilting her head back and letting out the irritated groan, in a new pose she was going to call Annoyed Cop's Lament.

"Because it's fun, you idiot! Why do you even care? You think I'm just trying to sucker a bunch of kids with entrapment? What kind of piece of shit do you take me for?

"Don't answer that," she added, not even a second later, faintly growling and just trying to get herself focused again. "I already know exactly what you think."

Duke had to smile at the audible groaning.

“Hey, it’s not my fault your fellow cops are a bunch of dicks. I agree with you though. Heists are a lot of fun. So, you know, thanks for letting me in on this one.”

"Wow, yeah, it's almost as if people are actually fucking different from each--" And then Rosa stopped herself with a frustrated grunt. Closed her eyes. Deep breath.

"I am not arguing with you about this through a goddamn door," she said. She was also not planning on opening the door, either, so she just followed it up with a sharp, "I'm busy, Crocker. Don't you have someone else you can annoy right now?"

“Certain types of people tend to go for certain types of jobs.” For instance, assholes and moral absolutists tended to love them some law enforcement. “And no, actually. Everyone else around here likes me.”

"Yeah, well," said Rosa, sucking in another breath that was doing a very poor job of gaining back the restraint she had earlier, "you're probably not shoving everyone else into some tiny little bullshit box, either. I said I'm not arguing about this. Go bother someone else, if they all like you so damn much."

“And here I thought we could bond a little. We have so much in common after all. We both like heists . . . and axes. . . .”

And yoga, though he didn’t know that one yet.

Oh, so he was going to just blow right past the fact that he was a stereotyping asshole, and she was just supposed to forget about that because they both liked axes. Cool. Super cool.

"And so does just about half the island." Rosa's fist balled up a little at her side and she slowly forced herself to loosen it, before she just punched that door to remind Duke that it was just about the only thing keeping her from wanting to just punch his damn face. "Only here's someting we don't have in common: I know how to take a fucking hint."

She knew she should have just insisted that no one was there.

Ah, who was she kidding? He'd be just as annoying in response to that, too, probably.

Yeah, Duke refused to feel bad about stereotyping cops. It was a profession people chose, one that tended to uphold and reinforce stereotypes about things people didn’t choose.

“You’re about as subtle as the moose is, Em,” he said cheerfully. “Not sure you can really call them ‘hints’.” He let out a little sigh. “And here I thought maybe we could finally bury this thing. Ah well. Worth a shot.” He gave her door a cheeky salute, not much worried about whether or not anyone could see it. “See you around then. Have a good weekend!”

And Rosa refused to feel bad about chosing to uphold and reinforce justice for the victims that didn't choose to suffer. Sorry, was she supposed to feel bad about keeping murders and traffickers off her streets?

But none of that was even remotely as bad as the fact that he'd honestly just thrown a bury the hatchet pun at her, didn't he?

He may have caught at least one more disparaging groan from her over that, but the rest of it she was going to dutifully ignore in favor of at least trying to get back to her yoga, but she already knew it wasn't going to work. There was no way she could focus enough on Zen now. She'd try, at least for a little bit, at least as long as it would take before she was sure he'd be gone (pretty sure, anyway, half expecting him to just be lurking in the hallway waiting for her to eventually come out since it wasn't like she could stay there all weekend).

Because yoga wasn't going to cut it anymore. She needed the gun range.

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Office #26; Friday Afternoon [11/01].

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