Officially Cumberbatched? A sequel to 'Well and truly Cumberbatched'

Chapter 57

                   

Dedicated to: asdfghjklaurenn, KatnissOdairMellark, hiddlesbatchers, & court_movegirl :0)

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AN: What about now- Daughtry.

Thursday afternoon.

Abramowitz offices, Richmond.

"How far have you gotten?"

"I'm nearly done, just don't look."

"Phoebe, how much have you actually covered?" Overlooking the dots of people darting along the pavement, I could see the Thames not too far in the distance; its waters currently calm and inviting.

"Um." She mumbled from behind her screen, I folded my arms still looking over the scenery.

"You can't do an entire evening's worth of work between mumbles. Show me." I said walking over, stood behind her a moment later.

"I meant to get it all done, I usually do but..." she trailed off, I shook my head going back to the window, thinking.

"But...Finn?" I asked looking over my shoulder, she nodded.

"Yeah we got..."

"Carried away at the cocktail bar? You know he could drink a goldfish under the table?" I added; despite the giggle her obvious hangover was an answer in itself.

She reeked of having a much better night than I did.

"Something like that, look I'll get it all done you don't have to cover for me. I promise I'll have everything sorted by Friday night at the latest."

"Good, I won't exactly be able to help you stuck in a cinema with Ben will I?" I stated, thought out loud really.

"Oh yeah, it's the film festival tomorrow isn't it?" she quizzed, I nodded rubbing my hands along the chiffon of my blouse.

"Yes."

"Something happened last night."

I turned around, pulling the blouse's hem from the waist of my jeans. "To who?"

She frowned, folding her arms. "You...clearly."

"Nothing happened, we went out. It was...nice. I guess we were both too tired to be in a joyous mood last night."

"Nice? It was nice? Jesus Rosie that's what you say when you're bored to death and on the ropes."

'Probably.' I thought, gathering a few papers in my hands.

"Yes it was...okay."

"Something happened."

"No, nothing happened."

"You're lying, covering something."

"I can handle it, him, I can handle him. Where's the methodology article I printed?" I asked shuffling papers on my desk, thinking.

"What happened? I'm not doing anymore work until you say." a bluntness in her tone as she said it. 

"People go through rough patches; I guess we were just being honest about it. As you can see we're not very good at being routinely miserable."

"Right, you looked I don't know...odd today." She uttered turning back to her work, concentrating more in the last ten seconds than she had in the last few days.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you look on edge...as though you don't know where to put yourself."