<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/>Lea sat up some at Carlos’ words, liking the idea of painting the ceiling.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “But what color…?” </span>she asked herself more than Carlos. Just then Mimi jumped in her lap, curling up and purring. Lea’s hand automatically came up to begin petting the usually jealous cat.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“I may need some help when I start the PI business…I hoped that I could get you to help with the job…”</span>Carlos said to her, and Lea looked down with a frown.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “Don’t try to give me a pity job, Carlos…”</span>she said softly, strangely upset by the offer. She knew he meant well, but she felt like he was more just trying to get her out of stripping than anything else. He didn’t really believe in her, at least she didn’t think he did. Maybe he thought that it would help her stay away from drugs by giving her a job away from them, and he was probably right—but still the fact remained he was doing it out of pity and guilt.<br/><br/>She stood then, picking Mimi up with her as she walked to her room to get dressed, limping the whole way with her bruised and cut feet. She set the cat on the bed who automatically searched for Lea’s pillow, curling up on it and stuffing her nose into it to be comforted by Lea’s scent.<br/><br/>As she searched through the closet for something warm to wear, she took a moment to look at her old uniform and tears came to her eyes. She had enjoyed being a cop, but she had managed to royally screw that up. She grabbed the uniform and shoved it further back in the closet, wiping the tears that had found residence on her cheeks.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “Stupid…stupid…stupid…”</span>she muttered, snatching a pair of jeans and putting them on. Just as viciously she snatched a green sweater from a hanger and put that on as well.<br/><br/>She came out, seemingly more upset than before, but she didn’t say anything for a moment, then finally spoke,<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “Let’s go get coffee or something first.”</span>Her coffee maker had been one of the many items she had destroyed in her fit of unreasonable grief the night before. She didn’t really give Carlos a chance to respond as she went to the bathroom, grabbing a small mirror and her make up back. She returned and sat on the corner of the couch and began to apply makeup over her bruise. Slowly, bit by bit, the bruise seemed to disappear and she looked more like a healthy Lea rather than blotchy purple Lea.