Jun. 4th, 2010

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December 1981.  Almost two months have passed since she watched her parents die in an explosion.  Two months since she'd discovered that it was her own father that had killed them, and that he'd meant to take her life as well.  Her twelve year old self, that is.  (It was you.)  Almost two months and still, no sign of 2008 or Molly.  No sign of going home. 

And strangely enough, life seemed almost normal.  Perhaps that was the source of the ache in her chest.  The holidays were fast approaching and she couldn't help but wonder what Molly was doing and how Evan was holding up.  She tried not to think about it too much.  There certainly was enough work to keep her busy.

She let herself fall into a routine.  Work.  Pub.  Work. Pub.  Repeat ad nauseum.  Shaz tried to get her to go shopping but she made excuses.  She couldn't get away.  The Guv always had one thing or another for her to do.  It felt almost like he was trying to keep her occupied, keep her mind off the loss of the Prices. (It was hardly as if she could hide how badly their deaths had hit her.)

And she appreciated it.   Well, when he stopped shouting and got down to actual police work, she appreciated it.

Still, Christmas day was just around the corner and she still hadn't got presents for any of the team.  She'd pulled out a notebook and was aimlessly doodling in lieu of actually writing down gift ideas.

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