Coming Back to You ✔

14. June

Sophia was so fucking frustrated. For a lot of reasons.

She was starting her third full week in New York. And over the time she had to settle in, a few things happened. The absolute terror of having a serial killer coming after her was starting to wane, if only just slightly. At the very least, she could walk to and from the subway without feeling like someone was going to jump out of the shadows and stab her. But with that waning of fear came the increase of frustration over the entire situation.

Her job continued to be the most mind-numbing experience in all of existence. She didn't have anything against the people, although she would never understand their contentment with the intense routine of the nine-to-five. But for her, the monotony of getting up at the same time every morning, arriving at work promptly at nine, leaving exactly at five, and getting home before it was dark out made Sophia want to scream. It felt more like a prison.

Jamie hadn't been around much, so Sophia hadn't had a chance to talk to her, about anything. How the case was going, if there was an update on when she would be able to go back to her old life, or even if there was anything the F.B.I. agent could do about the less-than-ideal job Sophia currently had to put up with. If there was one thing Sophia hated, it was a lack of communication. The E.R. depended on it. Without communication, everything fell apart. Sophia was falling apart.

And then there were the dreams. She had the first one three days ago, another one last night, and both times Sophia woke up sweating and out of breath, her heart pounding.

No, they weren't nightmares. Sophia almost would have preferred that.

Sex dreams. She was having sex dreams about Dean, and it made her feel guilty as hell.

Logically, she knew that it was just her brain and body responding to the fact that she missed him and wasn't used to not having him around. It was purely biological. But emotionally, Sophia was sick to her stomach. It made her feel like she only was missing him because of the loss of their physical relationship. And Dean was worth so, so much more than that.

She desperately needed something to keep her mind occupied, make her feel like a human. So now she sat in her living room, listening carefully, waiting to hear the slam of Jamie's door as when the agent came home from work.

Sophia glanced at the clock. It was just after seven. But based on the past few weeks, Jamie might not be home for another couple of hours.

But Sophia remained undeterred.

Just before nine, she finally heard the keys click in Jamie's lock and then the door slamming. Sophia forced herself to wait another five minutes to give Jamie a moment to herself after what was presumable a long day, then rolled back her shoulders, steeled her nerves, and left the room.

Jamie opened the door almost instantaneously after Sophia knocked, her expression set, eyes hard but calm. A pang of guilt hit Sophia in the stomach. The agent thought something was wrong, actually wrong.

"Is everything okay?" Jamie asked, her words clipped.

"Yeah," Sophia said automatically. "Nothing, nothing bad has happened."

The agent relaxed slightly, her eyes softening and her shoulders sagging. Sophia could see the exhaustion in her stance, and the guilt only grew at the fact that she was about to add something else to Jamie's plate.

"What can I do for you, then?"

"Can I come in?"

Jamie stood back and let Sophia into the apartment. It was just as Sophia had imagined it would be. Clutterless, no-nonsense, and as far as she could tell, very few pictures or other personal items. Clearly, Agent McKenzie lived at her job and had little time for anything else.