James Thornton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jamesthorn) wrote2014-06-12 06:36 pm
jamesthorn) wrote2014-06-12 06:36 pm
Entry tags:
BACK TO THE GRIND [ Police Station / OPEN]
Normal people aren't like James. He is happier when he's at work, getting things done. He likes the focus, likes his cases. He likes his co-workers, most of the time, when Grant wasn't waving Cornettos in his face, Alex kept her feet off the desk, and June didn't traipse through the station to flirt with Levi. This afternoon, though, his first day back to duty following his kidnapping, he isn't handling it all that well. He is overwhelmed by the amount of paperwork sitting on his desk; Levi really hadn't been lying about everyone just leaving it all safe and sound for him. His desk looks like it hasn't been touched in weeks, except for people just piling things in his chair. A pile he dumped on the floor next to his feet once he'd arrived, a pile that would likely still be there a month from now.
That was hours ago. He is still attempting to just make it through his e-mail inbox and his phone messages as most of them aren't practically incomprehensible. He doesn't even know where to start with this to get back into the mindset. He places his head in his hands for a few seconds, attempting to scrub away the brain fog. He removes his hands and blinks at the computer screen.
Maybe he thought he would just pick back up where he left off, but it's obvious he's going to need a short reintroduction to all of this. Though there's a tiny voice in the back of his mind shouting at him that the job isn't the reason. He is brilliant at his job; he knows what to do. No, if he was being real with himself, he would know his brain fog is due to Moira freaking Coombs and the night he'd spent with her. He shakes that thought away quickly, or tries too, and goes back to his e-mail.
That was hours ago. He is still attempting to just make it through his e-mail inbox and his phone messages as most of them aren't practically incomprehensible. He doesn't even know where to start with this to get back into the mindset. He places his head in his hands for a few seconds, attempting to scrub away the brain fog. He removes his hands and blinks at the computer screen.
Maybe he thought he would just pick back up where he left off, but it's obvious he's going to need a short reintroduction to all of this. Though there's a tiny voice in the back of his mind shouting at him that the job isn't the reason. He is brilliant at his job; he knows what to do. No, if he was being real with himself, he would know his brain fog is due to Moira freaking Coombs and the night he'd spent with her. He shakes that thought away quickly, or tries too, and goes back to his e-mail.