picking up the pieces

It was complicated.

Granted, Liz had worked really hard these last few months to make everything normal. OK, maybe it was weeks. She was even on track with her biological clock these days which was no easy feat. Her cycle was completely on time now. It was just everything else was off. Especially, with Kip.

He said it was the last straw when it finally hit him that she had used him. That's what he said, anyway. Of course, at the time, she told him it was just his excuse because he couldn't find a job. Yes, he'd quit his job, and they were going to buy a house and everything was just going to be lovely. Only it wasn't.

There was that job at the prison, but it was a couple of hours away, and they could have seen each other on the weekends. Only, he didn't like the idea. What was the point of him moving here if that meant they'd still be away from each other.

Naturally, one argument led to another, and it all came back to Syd. And what Liz did. The lies, the drugs. The pure reality of what Liz was capable of. A dance of anger. The screams. The ugliness. And now all was quiet. Kip had left.

When he'd said FINE and she'd said it back to him, it felt so final. Maybe it was. That was a few weeks ago. Thanks to Olivia and Syd's little coffee break. And now everything was completely calm.

But her body still flinched at night after every little sound. Liz hated this. But refused to call. Although, she was worried sick if he'd made back to Boston or if he got his apartment back from his cousin. Or, if they'd found a replacement for him at that job he so loved. The one she tore him away from, according to Kip.

A part of her was shattered now. Shadows under her eyes. And this heat of summer was awful. She still had her job. The job she hated but refused to leave. Naturally, she got the new guy to train at the lab. He was a freaking fat idiot, her first impression of him. He annoyed her completely even if he never said anything to her unless he was asked. He had to be a freak. She imagined. It was as if he were a cartoon that had transformed into something human. His name was Munro. Timid Munro who was probably afraid of his own shadow.

She'd yelled at him once about how squeamish he was with the animals. Now when she looked at him, he usually scampered  away. But then came the day she needed Munro. Her car wouldn't start.

"OK." He barely said above a whisper. She just needed a ride home. There was no one she could think of to call. Her sister was out at her parents, trying to get her wedding planned. And that was three or so hours from here.

Of course, he was so nervous just driving to her place.

"Look, I'm sorry." She found herself apologizing to him on the way home. "I didn't mean to get off on the wrong foot, with you. I've-I've just had a couple of bad weeks."

Munro nodded as if he could obey any command now that she might want. He was still not really talking. But she tried to be pleasant. She so needed a friend. True, Munro was definitely not her type. And she was sure he could hardly wait to drop her off.

"You live here?" He just said when they got there.

"What?" She looked at him.

"Nothing." He shook his head.

"What, I'm too thrifty for you?" She smirked.

'No, its just, I-I thought you were, um-"

"High maintenance?" She glared at him.

"Sort of, at least, rich. I guess." Munro told her.

"Believe me, I've never been rich." She sighed. "Have you looked at the car I drive? My dad got that used in 97." She got out then and thanked him. He waited in his little economy car for her to open the door. When she did, she saw that the entire floor of the studio apartment was in three inches of water.

"WAIT!" She waved him down before he could completely back out. She had to show him what had happened. Liz was about to have a melt down so he made a few calls. They waited outside for the Super to arrive.

"I can't believe this is happening to me." She knew her place was ruined.

"You have any pets?" He asked.

"No." She shook her head. "I usually kill all my pets." She frowned then, hugging herself.