How She Came Home

Chapter Fifty-One

New Year's Eve swiftly followed Christmas and they were back in National City for it, Becca spending all day in the office as she worked through a pile of legal documents in the suffocating stillness of the vast room. 

No one sent her emails, no one called her phone or poked their head in to inform her of a client that had shown up for a meeting. It was quietly productive and felt like any other day, if not quieter. 

She went for a walk near lunchtime, buying a green smoothie and a quinoa salad, sitting in a nearby park in her coat as she watched people walk past.

The wind was cold and the park had wilted with the winter weather, only a few flowers in bloom and a few species of trees holding their leaves. It felt strange to Becca how much time had passed without her really taking stock of it, one minute enjoying a searingly hot summer's day hiking with the woman she loved and the next sitting alone in a park in mid-winter waiting for her to come home. Her phone rang in her pocket, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Happy New Year! You're calling late," she said as Freen's face lit up the screen.

Glancing at the time at the top of the phone, she frowned, realizing it was early hours in the morning there. Freen's soft sigh in response came out crackly through the poor connection, her face mostly in shadow with the darkness of night.

"Just got back to camp. We were out chasing up a story on a local skirmish... well, I can't go into too much detail. I thought I'd call before bed."

"You look tired."

"You mean I look like shit?" Freen laughed, running a hand over her dust-covered face. "I'm looking forward to hot baths again, I'll tell you that."

Softly sighing, Becca gave her a small smile. "We're halfway through it. I wish it was sooner."

"Maybe I should shoot myself in the foot so I can come home now."

"Or I could get shot again. Maybe a nice stabbing this time."

"Nope. No more hospital visits for you. I'll have to make the sacrifice this time."

Becca quietly laughed, shaking her head as she gazed lovingly at Freen. "I miss you, you dork."

"I miss you too," Freen said, giving her a sad smile. " And for the record, I would totally shoot myself in the foot for you. Just so you know."

"I'm very honoured and slightly concerned. And you say I'm the reckless one with crazy ideas," Becca said. "I'm almost worried about what you get up to over there that's not part of your job."

"Please. I'm the one with all the common sense in this relationship," Freen scoffed.

"You?" Becca spluttered. "I think you mean I am. I'm a certified genius , Freen. I know everything; I do what I want."

Laughing, her eyes creasing at the corners, Freen wrinkled her nose. "Mm, well, you've stolen half of my clothes already by the look of things."

Plucking at the thin navy sweater beneath her coat, Becca straightened up slightly, giving her a lofty look. "Your clothes happen to be very comfortable."

"Sorry, for the lack of designers in my closet."

"The ones I haven't worn yet still smell like you," Becca quietly admitted, almost shyly.

"I like seeing you in my clothes," Freen murmured, an appraising look in her eyes as she gave Becca a once over. "As embarrassing as it sounds, when we first started dating I used to bring you clothes that matched your eyes."