"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍." - Reba McEntire. "Fancy". 1990.
🐻Fancy🐰Mike🐤Ness🦊Vanessa✨
In which, Francine Jenkins is a Yale pre law and criminal justice major completing her senior thesis...
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Implied sex and mentions of suicide in this chapter !! ~~
Mike's arms were still tightly wrapped around her waist when she woke up. Sunlight pooled into the room, his room, from the window.
The first thing she noticed was her pounding head. Oh how it ached. She felt exhausted still, even after resting. Bone tired, the kind of tired that grips you and doesn't let you go for days on end. She rolled over, gently, not to wake him, and looked at Mike. Ariel bandaid still on his chin. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched him sleep.
She wondered what he was dreaming about. What does Mike dream about? Does he even dream? Some people don't, you know. Fancy never understood that. How could a person not dream? Dreams are our escape from reality, they awaken new inspirations in us and revitalize ideas we haven't thought about it who knows how long. Dreams are fundamental.
Mikes eyes fluttered open slowly. Opening, and closing as if he were fighting off the sleep that still had a hold of him. He hummed softly and rolled his shoulders back.
"Fancy?"
He groaned in that groggy morning voice. She giggled. Sleepy Mike.
"Hi."
She simply said and Mike smiled at her. "Good morning." He said. "Although it's probably nearly noon." Fancy added and Mike chuckled. "So what?" He wrapped his arms around her tighter and brought her close. "It's not like I have a job to go to today." "But I do, Mike." "What do you mean? You solved the case didn't you? Case closed. That's what you people say, isn't it? 'Case closed'? Or is that only in movies?" Fancy giggled.
"I have to go present my findings to Officer Hurst. He's supposed to be observing me, but ah- he's too busy to properly observe me so I've been working on my own. Even though I'm sure he's done nothing but sit on his ass and eat donuts at his desk." "Maybe I should be a police officer, that way I can just sit on my ass and eat donuts, that sounds kinda nice actually."
"You, Mike, should not be a police officer." "Why not?" "Tell you what, when Vanessa gets better why don't you ask her about it." "Oh come on." He persisted with a grin. Mike almost never grinned. Only when he was teasing her or messing with Abby. It looked nice on him. She liked it.
