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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Mar 28, 2012 18:34:25 GMT -5
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[atrb=width,4] It had been three months and she had yet to move her things into his place, though she basically lived there already. Everyday, before or after work, she'd have to go back to her apartment and get some clothes that were starting to get tight because she was already showing (which the doctor said meant it was going to be one hell of a baby) and she'd have to drag it back to his apartment only to end up bringing it back to hers because she had a washing machine and dryer. She still went to work, still cruised around in the police cruiser on her own. She wouldn't get maternity leave for another two to three months but they let her do the paper work from home, thankfully. But today she had off after working the night shift. She'd woken up early to take Dylan to get his therapy work done, and while he was there, she figured she'd get him a gift. He had shown her the paper with the dog a while ago but she had brushed it aside, mostly because she was too damn excited about the baby and him being alive and well to care much for a dog. She loved animals, though, and after looking at the paper, doing some research, and lots and lots of thinking, she figured there would be no harm in it. Plus, the puppy would be old enough now to be away from his mother.
Hearing a bark, she looked over at the plump puppy sitting in the passenger's seat, his big brown eyes looking up at her like he was the happiest creature on the planet. She smiled and ruffled his golden hair, a blue collar wrapped around his neck and his name tag empty so Dylan could name him. Pulling up in front of the place, she rummaged through the dashboard glove compartment for the temporary handicap sign and plucked it onto the rear view mirror before slipping out of the car, going around and grabbing the puppy, whom she undoubtedly named, well, puppy, like he was her newborn baby. Locking the car after closing it with her foot, she even matched the pooch in her pale blue lace sundress that reached just above her knees and some nude flats. Her engagement ring sat proudly on her slender finger and she had some chandelier earrings in since her hair was up in a messy and hasty ponytail that somehow she managed to pull off as looking put together. She was glowing, as she normally did nowadays even when she got unusually moody, and she walked through the sliding doors.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Garcia," she looked over at the receptionist who almost immediately went gaga for the puppy, "He's three months old! But shh, he's a surprise for Officer Dylan," she grinned from ear to ear in that charming way of hers and the receptionist told her he should be finishing up over in the left wing. Leslie easily found the room after asking around since they had him doing different things every time he was there and she poked her head in, making sure the pup was out of sight, before clearing her throat a bit, "Almost done with him, doc?" she asked anxiously to the doctor but before she could say why, the puppy barked and Leslie was forced to bring him out from around the corner, cradling the heavy creature and somewhat using her slightly protruding stomach, a bit hidden thanks to her loose dress, to keep him in her arms and herself balanced, "I hope you still want that one dog...because if you don't, well, you're stuck," she chuckled as the dog licked her face and wagged his tail.
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[/td][/tr][/table][/center] created by steph! steal and you die! [/size][/font][/center] |
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Post by graeson on Apr 2, 2012 16:38:03 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 842 ( TAGGED ) LESLIE ( STATUS ) COMPLETE He was getting tired of the endless amount of sessions that he was forced to attend. He was trying to remain optimistic but his leg was just not getting better. Pair that with the constant pressure from the chest wound he had received and he was just not a happy camper. He was doing his best to remain happy though simply because of Leslie. She was pregnant and he needed to be there for her. He needed to be able to go and get her things when she had cravings. He needed to be able to do the things that an engaged couple did but he couldn't. That was more debilitating than any of his injuries. He lost sleep at night because of all of the thoughts of what he couldn't do always hit him the hardest. Even though he wore a brave face Dylan was petrified that he would never be able to walk right again. And if he couldn't even walk, he definitely couldn't run. And there went his job, out the window. While he hadn't always been the straightest of cops for all of his career, he still loved his job. It had gotten better recently, especially after Devon had been helping him cope with his alcoholism and the loss of his previous partner. Things had been looking up and then he had to go and get himself shot, as the public continued to accuse him of doing.
The things that the news reported had been disheartening for Graeson in the first months. They didn't get the story right, but the force hadn't allowed Dylan to make a statement until he was a bit more functional. And they didn't want him in the wheelchair when he did it either, so the podium had been his support during that small speech. In it the press had been able to question him and he had answered the ones that he could. However, standing there for an hour had proven to be almost too much for him. He had nearly collapsed and the press had swarmed on that like flies. He was embarrassed because it made him look so weak. He refused to make any more statement after that so naturally word traveled around Sapphire Bay without him having any control over the rumors. He was furious and upset and angry with the world as well as himself. He wanted to turn to alcohol, but he refused to do that. He also refused to take the medicine that would help alleviate some of if not most of his pain. He was terrified that he would become addicted to that as well and he just wouldn't let that happen. These were the thoughts that were running through his mind as he went through the exercises the therapist wanted him to complete today. He was on his last one, and trying to stretch his leg out flat and straight was proving to be easier said than done.
It was as if it got stuck halfway up and he looked at the man in front of him. "This isn't going well." He said, looking rather disheartened by the situation. He was never going to get better, but the therapist saw that look in Dylan's eyes. "Hey, hey. You're doing fine. This is something new. It takes time. Just be patient." Graeson wanted to throw something at him. Patient?! He had been extremely patient. He had been doing absolutely everything that he was supposed to be doing and it still wasn't working. Looking down at his useless limb, he sighed and nodded. Then he felt the doctor's hand on his shoulder. "You do know that if you took the medicine you'd improve faster than this right? Nothing bad will happen to you if you took the dose required Dylan." He instructed, but before Dylan could respond, he was aware of a familiar voice. Looking up hopefully, the first genuine smile graced his face as he saw his glowing fiancee. She didn't look bad at all. At least one of them looked good. He was about to speak to her but then he heard the bark. Furrowing his brow, he looked at her in question. "What was that?" And then she brought the puppy into view and Dylan's eyes widened in shock and surprise. That was the puppy from the add! "Leslie...you...really?" He questioned her, watching as the doctor slipped from the room to give them some time together. sorry it sucks. didn't know what else to do! |
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