drxalanabloom:

Alana blinked, feeling a little dumbfounded. ‘Damn it Will… Can’t you tell what the god damn food is for?’ she thought as she entered his home. “I thought it would be nice to make you a little breakfast after working so hard with the bureau.” Alana looked around, inspecting the house. Books, cabinets, fishing lines, dog beds, and blankets were scattered about.

It was clearly a “bachelor” pad. A cozy one, and less sleazy, thankfully. She smiled at the faces of panting dogs that most likely smelled the food she had brought. 

“Besides, Will… Can’t I be a friend for once?” Alana asked, giving him a small smile. 

“I never said you couldn’t,” The profiler countered as he walks into the kitchen to pour her a cup of coffee. He looks over his shoulder and gives her a small smile as if to say he meant no harm in his words. He rumages through cupboards to find a mug. Upon finding one, he pours the coffee and walks back to where she stands, holding it out for her.

“I’m simply asking why. Why the food, why so early?” He drops the friendly attitude and opts for a more serious one. Last time someone brought breakfast over, it was to psychoanalyze him further and to push some of his buttons. 

                   What do you see me as?

                           The m o n g o o s e I want under the [house].

“So did you come here to check up on me, or because Crawford has another case?”