Targets (bwwm) *Completed*

Forty Six

"Can we switch from wipes to towels? I'll have some washing machines shipped in, but I don't like how many wipes we go through." Omisha placed her finger under the number on her weekly report.

"Yeah, I'll have Georgia go to the store to pick some up." Sam confirmed the switch as the sounds of his keyboard filled her ears.

It was almost 7pm and Winston had yet to come home, but she knew better than to worry herself. He was more than capable of taking care of himself and she'd been texting Oliver all day. After her conversation with Dean, she threw herself into work as that nagging feeling of guilt ate away at her.

"I think that should be all for today. I'll call you tomorrow and we can finish up the reports. Oh, did you hear back from Vurdu Pharmaceutical?" Omisha closed her laptop and stretched her legs before getting up from the couch to go prepare dinner.

"We did! They are currently drafting a contract for the requested medicines." The simple statement nearly made her jump in joy. If they agreed to their proposed terms, the shelter would have free access to all the medical supplies they'd need for patrons.

"Fuck yes! Thanks, Sam." Omisha smiled brightly as she pulled out pans.

"That was all you, Diane. None of this would have been possible without your diligence and intelligence. You're a blessing to these folks." The softness in Sam's tone filled her with joy that warmed her body and made her want to dance.

"You're too sweet." Pulling a pack of chicken out of the fridge, Omisha washed them before seasoning them to her liking. Once they were covered in the mix of brown and red seasonings, she lined them on a pan and slipped them into the oven.

"I'm just being real. Thank you for caring." The pair wished each other farewell before she tossed her phone on the island. Turning back to the stove, she began to search for the perfect sides. It wasn't long before she settled on brown rice, broccoli, and biscuits.

"Omisha!" She jumped at the booming voice of Winston, her spoon she'd been using to stir the rice now on the floor.

"I'm in the kitchen." Picking up the wood utensil, she placed it into the sink just as Winston came barreling into the kitchen. The anger on his face caused her eyes to widen in shock before he stormed closer and grabbed her arm.

"What'd you say to him?" He growled out.

"What are you talking about?" She spoke before her mind finally pieced together that he knew she'd talked to Dean.

"Don't play stupid." His grip loosened and he took a step back.

"I thought it was my phone, so I answered the call. We talked briefly." Turning back to the stove, she cut the heat off and moved each of the pots off the hot eyes.

"Bullshit, I know you enough to know you didn't keep it at 'how are you'. What'd you tell him?" Once again he grabbed her arm to make her face him. There was a strange look in his eyes that made her take a step back.

"He asked about you. About why you didn't want to talk." She muttered. If looks could kill, she'd be 6 feet under in a reinforced casket wrapped in chains.

"And what did you say?" Folding his arms across his chest, his body immediately became much larger and his gaze pierced through her. This was Thorn.

"Nothing. I told him when things are right, you'll speak to him. That's all." The timer went off letting her know the chicken was done. They eyed each other for a moment longer before she turned to pull the food out. Her mouth watered at the brown, crisp skin on the chicken and she could tell it would be juicy on the inside.