The night after a one-night stand was always tricky. For some, they were filled with regret, and for others, they were filled with the realization that they wanted more than they had gotten. For Callie, the following morning was filled with several emotions, each lasting a period of time before moving onto the next.

Relief.

Some hours before she was actually ready to be awake, she felt Logan move out of the bed, eventually followed by the sound of the door to the motel room closing. He was trying to be quiet, but she was a light sleeper these days. His absence, though, meant that they wouldn't have that awkward 'oh, hi there' talk the next morning. They could both go their seperate ways, and they could forget the other existed in time.

Annoyance.

A few hours later, the sun shone through the shitty blinds in the room, shining directly into her eyes. It was far from a pleasent wake up call, and given how sore she still was, she had been hoping to sleep in as long as possible. She knew she should get out of bed and eat, though, and the need for a cigarette was already starting to knaw at her. So, she had gotten up.

Anger.

As she had gotten back from the bathroom, she had gone to check on the progress of her laptop. It had been running all night, and by now the search had to be finished. However, the second she moved the mouse, the screen stayed black, and she just stared at it for a moment. Slowly, she glanced over toward the floor where the blanket had fallen, and the secon dshe saw the powercord on the ground, she felt the burning anger filling up in her chest. Sure, he had no way of knowing just how important that serach was, but she knew, and she hadn't been even remotely close to careful.

Grabbing her laundry, Callie grumbled to herself, swearing under her breath as she moved to the laundry room of the motel. It wasn't great, but it would work, and she was desperate for clean clothes. The previous night was just on replay in her head as she did, too, but not for the reasons some would think.

Captions on videos flashed in her head as she watched the laundry go in circles, and by the time she had time to check her second laptop when she got back with it, some people had already tried to put a name to her face. A couple were right, but thankfully, there were far more that were wrong. If her name got out, Darrien could find her, and that was the last thing she needed.

Two days passed, and the brunette barely left her motel room except for food. Her van finished early in the morning, and after picking it up from the shop, she went back to the motel to pack. She had the room for an extra night still, and as much as she wanted to dash, she wanted to get what she paid for. It was nice, though, to work in her van for once, and for the first time in over a week, she felt at home.

She didn't get much time to feel at home, though, before she heard someone pounding on the door to her motel room. She was parked close enough by that she could hear if someone knocked on it, and for a brief moment, she thought that maybe she had gotten her days mixed up and was getting kicked out. Upon opening the doors to her van, though, she was proven deathly wrong.

Standing outside of the motel room was the man who had defended her in the bar fight, covered in blood. She had already forgotten his name, but his face was not going to leave her mind. There was no denying who he was. Why he was in the state he was in, though, was an entirely different question, and part of her wondered if he was cleaning up loose ends from the fight . . . Callie was quick to dismiss the idea, though. That was too extreme, and after staring at him for a moment, she finally spoke, leaning out of the back of her van.

" . . . I don't know if there's enough hot water to get that out of your clothes, dude."