Protector and Professor - The Killing Jar

5. The Guilt

Day 3: Friday- 12:45 a.m.

Abir opened the door to the loft, and wasn't surprised to see the lights still on. Mishti in bed before midnight without him would’ve been a shocker. Closing the door, he tossed his jacket on the sofa and reached down and took off the knee brace. He had had enough of that.

“You’re supposed to leave that on until the doctor says to take it off, buddy.” Abir looked over at the kitchen bar and smiled. His woman, eating her body weight in food.

“Yeah, that’s what he said.” Abir took the barstool next to her and grabbed a pickle off her plate and kissed her quickly before taking a bite.

“New wound on the cheek. Want me to doctor it for you?” Mishti asked as she reached over and ate the rest of the pickle out of his hand.

“Later. I need to clean up first.”

“How was the sting, the operation, the whatever you call it?” Mishti pushed the bread and coldcuts towards him. Taking more French bread, she handed him a knife to slice her some. “Slice my bread, please. But not too thin.” Mishti watched him start to cut. “But not too thick either.” Abir snorted and whacked her off two pieces and kissed her hard.

“Perfect.” She purred after he released her and she licked her lips.

“It was a bust tonight. All finished. They caught the five men and the world is safe again.” Abir paused in making himself a sandwich to go grab a beer out of the refrigerator, extra cheese, more pickles and olives, and a bottled water for Mishti. Sitting down next to her, he watched her construct another sandwich for herself, while at the same time sneaking bits of turkey to Mr. Booboo, who was lurking under the counter. Mayo? Mishti only used mayo on certain meats. This was cheddar  cheese, provolone, and three slices of chicken salami, a slap of spicy brown mustard, and then some meat.

Weird.

“What is that?”

“lamb.”

Abir looked into the coldcut container.  “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Had a craving.” Mishti continued to stack the sandwich with Swiss cheese, lettuce, pickles and tomatoes, adding vinegar and salt and pepper, a handful of potato chips; then she covered the last piece of bread in peanut butter. Cutting her sandwich, Mishti took a large bite and was happily munching away, almost humming under her breath.

“That’s disgusting!”

Mishti just shrugged and reached for a pickle out of the jar. “Don’t knock it if you’ve never tried it.”

Abir reached over and took her other half over her protest and took a bite. Pausing, he suddenly realized that he was ravenous, and somehow this crazy sandwich hit the spot, except it was missing something. Mishti suddenly went to the refrigerator and brought out a bottle of seafood cocktail sauce and grabbed a bottle of Tabasco. That’s what was missing! Abir smeared on some cocktail sauce followed by some Tabasco as Mishti did the same.
She looked over as he devoured the sandwich and then looked down at her empty plate. Gulping down the bite she was chewing, she still talked with her mouth full of food. “Hey, make your own! I’m starving.”

They both made another sandwich and traded stories of their day while eating. Abir popped the last bite in his mouth, and actually felt good for the first time that day. He had woken with a headache, slightly nauseated and his knee killing him. The nausea only got worse after Cap grilled the crap out of them and he had had to sit next to Nishant and his new aftershave during departmental briefing. Then he ate half a dozen donuts, and three 5th Avenue bars, took an hour nap in Holding, followed by a lunch in the park from a kiosk.