Cored

Chapter 39: Creepy Crawley

"Okay, I think we have an actual schedule figured out," Picquery said the next night as they ate dinner. Katherine's shoulder was so sore that she could barely enjoy her orange chicken—Crawley had sent her flying into a wall at a weird angle, and if she had to guess it was going to leave quite the bruise.

"Katherine?"

"What? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head.

"Let me see," Picquery said, eyeing her shoulder. She sighed but pulled at the collar of her t-shirt until the top of a purpling bruise was visible.

"Here," he said, pulling out his wand. Whatever he did, it sent a warm rush across her skin. The bruise was still visible, but her shoulder no longer ached.

"Thanks," she said, letting her collar fall back into place and rotating her arm in relief.

"No problem. Now, as I was saying, I think I got the schedule figured out today. We're going to do 24-hour shifts, so everyone can focus on their other work a little more. On a weekday, whoever is with you will take you to meet Crawley at 10 each morning and the next person will pick you up in the afternoon. On weekends, you can figure out something else to do."

"Does that mean Crawley isn't in the rotation?" she asked.

"No," Picquery said. "I've been picking up the slack while you get acclimated, but the two of you have to learn to get along. You're supposed to be on the same side."

"He's probably putting out a want ad for some dark wizard to take me," Katherine said.

"Maybe you two just need to get to know one another. And training doesn't count—some time where you use your words and not your magic."

Katherine scowled and looked around the apartment. It had really come together—Picquery had let her roam around the muggle stores for hours finding prints for the walls, a variety of fuzzy blankets, and even some scented candles. Katherine might have been incredibly practical and logical, but as a homebody she had always liked things as cozy as they could be. This apartment was no exception. It used to drive her mother crazy.

"You're like a mother bird, constantly nesting," Evie said, folding the fourth blanket on Katherine's bed. "How many pillows does one person need?"

"Well, this one is for sleeping, this one is for reading, this one is for if my allergies are bad and I need to prop my head up more, and these two are just decorative. So, all necessary."

"And the blankets? How do you not overheat!"

"But there are different blankets for different moods! This one says, 'I'm warm, but not too overbearing.' This one says, 'I've not showered in three days and don't plan on moving anytime soon.' And this one says, 'you can't buy happiness, but you can buy cozy.'"

"And this one?" Evie said, holding up a thin gray waffle knit.

"That one's just a blanket. They can't all talk, at least one has to listen."

"No, it says, 'I took this from my mother and I'm giving it back,'" Evie laughed, walking out the door with it.

"—and I think you'll find he gets easier to be around," Picquery was saying as she came back to the apartment. "Tell him you want burgers for dinner. He loves burgers."

Katherine just shook her head. "Burgers, fine."

"He's first shift is tomorrow, then Grouse and Iz the days after that. If all goes well, I'll pick you up from training on Monday."