Watery sunlight falls into the Oakmont University library through the open door, along with Charles. He more or less stumbles inside and only remembers to shut the door behind him after standing there in silence until Joy, the librarian, looks up from her latest book.

"Charles?"

He turns slowly away from the door. Her blonde hair is neatly styled and her clothes are clean and unwrinkled. She looks the exact opposite of how he feels. "Huh? Oh. Hey Joy."

"You okay?" She mumbles through the stitches keeping her mouth mostly shut, tilting her head questioningly.

After all this time in Oakmont he's not even fazed anymore. "Sure, sure." He says, stifling a yawn and moving to the back of the library where the archives are located.

She watches him go. After hearing the creak of the chair at the back of the library, she shakes her head and goes back to her book.

Charles turns on the lamp on the old desk and leans back in the wooden chair. The dim sunlight doesn't make it all the way back here between the bookshelves. He breathes in the smell of dust and old books and his shoulders fall for the first time in days. His eyes shut on their own.

He can hear the hum of the lights, the sounds of his own heartbeat and breathing, the quiet rustle of paper when Joy turns the page of her book. He shouldn't have brushed her off like that. Especially considering she's one of the only people in Oakmont to not treat him like he's some kind of alien. She was just being nice to him. His eyes and head just ache so bad.

He opens his eyes with some difficulty and sits up in his seat. He stares down at the desktop in front of him. A newspaper. He came here to find an old copy of a newspaper. He thinks so, at least. But what were the dates he needed? This time he knows they're written down in his journal. He reaches into his coat for it.

Nothing.

He checks all of his pockets and under the desk twice before realizing it's not there. He doesn't have it. It must be back at the hotel. Hopefully. He really hopes it's not somewhere outside on the wet ground or he can kiss this case goodbye. But the thought of going all the way back to the hotel just to get his journal then come all the way back again makes him tired just thinking about it. He doesn't move. He still has a couple days to finish this case, right? What's one wasted day? He yawns again. He shouldn't sit here any longer. He needs to get some real work done, and he can't do that unless he gets up right now and gets his journal.

He doesn't move.

He leans back in the chair with a sigh. He can't stay here all day. Sleeping in a public library is weird, even in Oakmont. Hell, in Oakmont there's probably some cruel and unusual punishment for it. Besides, he can't be the only one who uses these archives. And the library has to close some time.

He leans forward, one hand propping his chin up on the desk. Actually, come to think of it, he's never seen the library closed. Half the city is flooded and it's still open. Even when Joy was afraid and asked him to investigate her apartment, she kept the library running. And how many times has he come here in the dead of the night to use the archives? Does Joy sleep here? Well, he wouldn't want to go back to his apartment either if he was her. Still though, sleeping here can't be good for her. Or easy. He should try asking her about it some time.

That's the last thing he remembers thinking before nodding off. He didn't mean to, really. If some Oakmonter came in and shoved him out of the seat for being in the way he'd have agreed with them. But no one does. As far as he can recall, nobody came in while he was slacking off.

Once he started awake because he thought he heard the door open, but when he turned in his seat to check, no one was there. He's embarrassed to admit it didn't take him long to get back to sleep after that.

Something clunks down on the table next to his arm. He flinches and bolts upright, his hat falling off in the process. He looks up.

Joy smiles down at him, as much as she can. She set one cup on the table and holds another in her hand.

"Sorry," he blurts, "I, uh..."

She crouches down and scoops his hat off the ground. She sets it on the table beside the cup. "S'okay. You need it. The sleep."

He takes his hat and runs his fingers along the brim. He can't quite look at her. "I guess so." His eyes drift to the cup on the table. The contents look suspiciously like coffee. Do they even have coffee in Oakmont anymore? "What's that?"

"To wake you up."

She didn't say it was coffee, he notes. But it doesn't smell like fish either. Call him paranoid but he doesn't take a sip until she does first. It is... Definitely not coffee, or tea, but it's not bad. It's warm and makes him feel a little less ragged around the edges. "Thank you."

"Mm-hm." She says while taking another sip through her straw. "Why so tired?"

"Oh, just..." He cradles the cup in his hands. "Having a hard time sleeping lately."

She makes an apologetic noise. "Sorry."

"It's alright. It happens."

"Feel better soon, okay?"

He smiles up at her. "Sure. Thanks again for the drink."

She turns to go back to her desk.

"Um, Joy?"

"Hm?" She turns back to him.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to be so dismissive."

"S'okay. You're tired." She nods to his drink. "Take your time." With that she turns to go back to her desk, drink in hand and still steaming.

He finishes the drink slowly before he leaves, running his thumb back and forth along the handle, the warm feeling in his chest growing. It isn't until he's halfway back to the hotel that he realizes he was looking in the wrong place. If he needed an old newspaper he should've gone to the Oakmont Chronicle, not the library. He really does need some sleep. Needless to say, he's incredibly relieved he didn't say anything to Joy.

A/N Sorry if this is incredibly short and a little boring. I just like the idea of these two being so relaxed around each other.