Searching for After

Make It Mean Something

Courtney plopped down onto the passenger seat of Shayne's car. It took an inordinate amount of energy not to simply pass out then and there. Before Smoshcast Live, Courtney thought the FBI agents were being thorough. Apparently, that was nothing compared to the fine-toothed comb they used to dissect the office once the show was over. Agent Rhett had split off to return to their field office. He could dig up more info about Lewis from there.

Courtney diligently kept her mouth shut about having heard of Lewis before. Meanwhile, Agent Link and his men continued their investigation in Smosh. They rifled through archived letters that Smosh had received throughout the years. He figured it was possible that Lewis wrote to Smosh once before. Courtney doubted it, but it was entirely possible. They got threats of all sorts on a pretty regular basis. Nobody usually bothered to read through them completely. Lewis' letter today stood out since it arrived at the height of the bombings. The timing was impeccable. Lewis had likely orchestrated the manifesto's arrival in that manner. It wouldn't be swept under the rug that way.

She'd also spoken to Matt about extra protection like she'd promised Shayne. The detective explained that most of his men were out on patrol or being led by the FBI. All he could spare was one cruiser to follow their car back to Courtney's apartment. The two officers within would be in the vicinity for the rest of the night, performing their patrol close by.

After strapping Max into the backseat, Shayne was quiet when he got back behind the wheel. He hadn't said a word other than hey, when he returned to Smosh. Courtney wasn't expecting him to be chatty in the office – Matt and the others were still at risk of recognizing him after all – but his silence was ominous.

Shayne was an open book to Courtney. All of his fidgeting told a story. The trigger finger tapping its staccato rhythm against the steering wheel, the hair he kept sweeping into place – even if it wasn't messy – and of course the shifty blue eyes scanning their surroundings beyond the windshield.

The brake lights up ahead cast a warm red glow on Shayne, contrasting the cool, drizzly evening. It darkened the shadow of the frown on his brow. He was so anxious. Like he was expecting Lewis to smash in their window and execute them without a moment's notice.

Courtney set a hand onto Shayne's lap. She rubbed broad, slow strokes against the denim of his jeans. His eyes twitched over towards her. Shayne gave her the approximation of a smile – little more than a small uptick at the corner of his lips.

It was pointless to ask if he was okay – there was no such thing as being okay at a time like this. Instead, Courtney opted to tell him, "We're gonna be fine, Shayne."

Shayne's usually mirthfully lopsided smile took a wry appearance. His words came out in a grumble, "Wish I had your optimism, Court."

Courtney sighed. If Shayne was feeling this down about the impending threat, she was dreading to hear how he'd react about the game plan tomorrow. She lacked the energy to bring it up just now. So, Courtney busied herself ordering their late dinner. She opted for a small pizza to split between them. Even if neither of them had eaten since lunch, being put on Lewis' shit list tended to dampen one's appetite. When Courtney asked Shayne for his choice of toppings, he shrugged.

That in and of itself was so unnervingly uncharacteristic of Shayne. He never failed to get his selection of toppings in, since he wasn't the biggest fan of her jalapenos and pineapples. Courtney did him a favor and added his usual requests on. She'd memorized his preference in pizza months ago.

At this hour in the evening, the road closures from earlier in the day were mostly over. It allowed New York City's usual midweek traffic to flow as freely as it could go. With Shayne silent as a mouse behind the wheel, Courtney gave his leg one final squeeze. She withdrew her hand and got cozy in the passenger seat. It was a crawl back to her apartment. She could use the catnap. Courtney allowed herself to doze off for a few minutes at a time, lulled by the soft pitter-patter of raindrops on the windshield.