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Mailbox for Catherine Deane. -
Young girl, get out of my mind.
The sunlight filtered into the hut she shared with Carson, trying to peek through her closed eyelids. Catherine rolled over, and with a tiny sound, buried her face in the pillow. Except...
...that didn't sound right. Her eyes opened a little bit. She tried to make the noise again. Too high, it was too high ( Read more... ) -
She was just like kissin' me.
Catherine walked the whole way back to New Atlantis without looking over her shoulder to see if Carson was following. She knew he was, fighting against letting his hips find a natural rhythm. Maybe she could help with that.
Reaching their hut, she paused long enough to make sure Valentine had water, and then made her way inside. -
Because this was the only journal that felt somewhat appropriate.
For future reference, party/ball clothes for pups:
Samara.
Temperance Brennan.
Luna Lovegood.
Becky.
Catherine Deane.
Ygritte. -
Brokedown therapist.
After speaking to the Council, her initial plan had been to run away. Like she was eight years old and could stuff all her things in a little plastic suitcase and sit outside until the bad things went away ( Read more... ) -
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Don't mind this-- just trying to keep it all straight.
Patients:
Lionel Thayer (Sunday)
Shane McCutcheon (Saturday)
Amy Foley (not yet scheduled)
Curtis (Monday and Thursday)
the Doctor (not yet scheduled)
**Office hours are kept from 1:00-5:00 on weekdays. Most appointments are at about 10:00 AM. -
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The ball was still in full swing, and Catherine was leaning against a tee, sipping wine and feeling a pleasant buzz. She hadn't lied to Carson-- underneath the lovely dress the box had given her, she wasn't wearing anything at all ( Read more... )
