Friends

Chapter f i v e

My head. I groan as I open my eyes to a world of blurriness. I grab my phone from off the nightstand, and almost knock it off. I just want to go back to sleep.

I turn my phone on, and scramble out of bed as I read the time. I wince as I feel the aching headache with every movement.

I check my phone again, and my shoulders slump down as I read the text. It's from Morgan telling me that she convinced Jones to give us the day off because they had to help me pack. I wonder how she convinced him to do that, I think with a smirk.

I squint over at my nightstand, and see a glass of water on it with an Aspirin. Who put that there? I quickly put my glasses on, and pull out my gun from its holster on my uniform. I might not be able to pull a gun out in public, but I can do it on my property any time.

As quiet as I can, I creep down the stairs. I hear slurping noises coming from the dining room, and my eyebrows narrow at the horrible sound. Calming my trembling hands, I jump around the corner and point my gun at the criminal.

Cameron shrieks at the sight of the gun, and drops the cup of orange juice, spilling it everywhere.

"How'd you get into my house?!" I ask him, not putting the gun down. "You're insane. Don't you know I have a gun?"

"Jeez Miss Grumpy Pants. Remind me not to mess with you in the morning." He says, frowning at his orange juice soaked socks. "Those were my second favorite pair." He whines.

"That's what you get for breaking and entering." I shoot back at him, but put my gun down.

"Technically," He says with a coy smile. "It's not breaking and entering if I don't break anything." I roll my eyes at him.

"How did you get in here, you twit?" I say, louder this time.

"Duh, the door."

"I know that, you idiot," I spit at him. "But how did you enter my locked door?"

"It wasn't locked." He says shrugging. I mentally slap myself, as I realize that I did forget to lock my door in my drunken state.

"Okay," I respond, giving up on trying. "Why exactly did you show up at my house and spill my orange juice?"

"I was bored." He responds. He wiggles his toes, still sad over his socks. I've given up on this guy.

I decide to go up and get ready for the day. Besides, what's the worst he can do when I'm a trained cop?

I put my gun back on my dresser, and go to put my contacts in. I do my normal, boring routine, and quickly go back downstairs. I wouldn't put it past him to break something else of mine.

I start to speak, but stop short as I realize he's not in the kitchen. I search around for the stranger in my own home. I finally find him, feet on the back of my couch, and his head dangling. I've never met a stranger person than him.

"What are you doing?" I ask him. He snaps his head over to my voice, and falls on his face off the couch.

"Ow." He says, rubbing his nose. "You didn't have to sneak up on me like that."

"It's not sneaking up on you if you're in my home." I retort.

He sits up normally, and I plop down on the couch next to him.

"What's the plan for today?" I ask, rubbing my head at my ever present headache.

"Did you take the Aspirin?" He asked. I shook my head. "Oh, well I had three." He says. My eyes widen, why would he need so many?