Chance and Reason

Chapter Twenty-Five

A/N: Seeing the support for this story is absolutely incredible, I cannot thank you enough. Honestly, I am very grateful; every single vote means so much.

"Camz? I'm home,"

Lauren stumbled in through her front door of her apartment, arms laden with files. As she struggled to kick the door shut behind her, the stack of paper in her arms began to tumble.

"Woah," Camila laughed, leaping in to steady the pile, "Is this your idea of some light reading for the weekend?"

"Oh, shush," Lauren said, setting the stack down onto the coffee table, "I wanted to be thorough. Because I was only hired as a close protection officer in the beginning, not an investigator, I've never actually seen about ninety percent of the files relating to your case. I thought maybe looking at what we're dealing with properly might help,"

"It's a good idea," Camila nodded, "And you're sure the police force doesn't mind you having these?"

"I'll return them after the weekend; it's only for a couple of days to give me time to actually read them. I might be prohibited from active field work at the moment, but I still have clearance to take out files if I need them,"

"That's good," said Camila, walking back over to the kitchen to check up on the dinner she was cooking, "Speaking of, have you heard any more from the trial?"

"Still being processed," the agent sighed, dropping down into a chair at the table, "They'll let me know when an official decision has been reached,"

"How's it looking for you?"

"Hard to say," Lauren shrugged, "If I am named as being responsible for Lucy Vives's death then the best I can hope for is my suspension from field operations being made permanent,"

"And the worst?"

"I get fired," she said, with a humourless laugh.

"And what about if you aren't named as the cause? If it is put down as an unfortunate product of a dangerous operation?"

"Then I would probably return to field work. My original position and privileges as an experienced agent would hopefully be reinstated,"

The kitchen timer began bleeping, indicating that the food was ready. A clanging of pots and pans followed, and Lauren suppressed a giggle at the noises of Camila frantically rushing about the kitchen to serve up the meal.

"Do you need a hand, Camz?" she called.

"I've got it!" came the muffled response, "Just a second!"

Finally she emerged from the kitchen, red in the face, and half running as the hot plates in her hands began to burn.

"There!" she announced, setting them down on the table, "Enjoy!"

Lauren grinned at the stir-fry in front of her. Despite all the hectic preparations, Camila had managed to cook a delicious looking dish.

"I'm impressed, Camz," she said, tucking in at once, "I'll have to work late more often if this is what I am treated to when I get home,"

"Don't push your luck, Jauregui," the journalist chuckled, giving her a playful shove, "Anyway, I can barely cook anything at all. You'll be living off this, Bolognese and toast,"

"Fine by me," Lauren told her cheerfully, "This is amazing, Camila. Thank you,"

They ate in a comfortable quiet, leaning across periodically to hold hands, or offer out pieces of food to the other.

"How's Dinah doing?" Lauren asked, as she took a bite of a prawn being held out to her on Camila's fork.

"She's good," Camila nodded conversationally, "She's been home for what... four days now? And although doing things one handed has been a challenge, Mani has been a great help..."