Fleur Di Lis

Chapter Ten

Despite last night's events, I slept like a baby.  

No dreams.  

No nightmares.  

Nothing.  

Just the sweet, calming blackness that came with utter exhaustion...  

"Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead!" 

I was jolted awake the next morning with Michaela bursting into my bedroom and yanking the curtains open, allowing the morning sun to beat its rays into the room.  I let out a small curse before sitting up, rubbing the tiredness away from my eyes as Michaela bounced onto the side of my bed, looking summery in a lemon-coloured dress and her hair in a ponytail, which sat on her shoulder.  Her clothes matched the weather.  The sweet, nutty aroma of freshly-ground coffee wafted into my room, and I inhaled deeply.

That was a smell I could get used to.

"How was your night?"  She asked.

"Peaceful," I admitted with a stretch.  "Best sleep I've had in a while, if I'm honest.  No dreams, no nightmares.  No cell phones ringing during the night."

She chuckled.  "Sucks being a detective, huh?"

I let out a noise of agreement, stopping short when I realised something.  No cell phones...  Rik hadn't phoned me to chastise me for being late for work...  I looked around the room, frowning. "Uh, Michaela?"  I began.  "What time is it?"

"Eleven," Michaela answered with a smile.  "You must've needed that sleep; Nate tried calling on you earlier but you were dead to the world."

I stared at her, mouth agape.  Eleven?!  Holy shit.  I wasn't even a little late; I was horrendously, going-to-get-my-ass-fired late if I didn't haul ass to the station right now and show my face.  Hopefully, Rik would've come up with a good excuse for me not showing up to briefing, just to pacify the captain.

"Oh, no..." 

I swung my legs over the other side of the bed and rushed towards the armoire and grabbing the plainest clothes I could find without even looking at the labels, or the price tag.  I made a beeline for the bathroom, only to be abruptly stopped by Michaela standing in front of me, looking concerned.

"Whoa!"  She held her hands up.  "Where's the fire?"

"Michaela," I began.  "I'm late for work.  I gotta go."

Michaela chuckled.  "You're joking, right?  You're not going to work right now."

I let out an exasperated sigh.  First, finding out I slept in and now I had to deal with a woman who wouldn't let me wash to get myself out of here and avoid getting fired?  What next?  The batteries getting taken out of the damn car to avoid me driving?

"Look, I'm a cop, okay?  I can't just sit around here, doing nothing like a sitting duck!  Besides," I added, calmer.  "My partner will be worried about me, I haven't called him to tell him what's going on or if I'm coming in...  He'll be sending out a search party for me already.  It's better if I go, saves a whole lot of aggro."

Michaela remained silent, standing as a barrier between me and getting ready for work.  Finally, my frustration got the better of me and I side-stepped and ducked away from her grip, only to find myself being pinned against the wall by her iron-like grip.  I squirmed and fought as hard as I could; kicking and flailing miserably.

"Stop," she demanded, and my body froze.  That single word managed to touch every nerve ending in my body, forcing me to follow her instruction.  She exhaled, letting me go and stepping back.  "I'm sorry.  But, Nate's told me to make sure you stay here, where you're safe and out of harm's way whilst he's at work."