Chapter Text
Joanne was hardly her roughest breakup to date, all things considered, but it was certainly the most ill-timed. Four months into her probation and suddenly she was back to living out of suitcases in a rousing game of hotel roulette; depressing, but familiar.
Back-to-back cases with a probie’s workload meant she didn’t have time for apartment-hunting. Add the constant hotel bills on a probie’s salary and saving up for first/last and security became a long-term goal instead of a short-term inconvenience.
By the the end of the third week -- eighth different hotel and too few trips to the dry-cleaners -- she knew her professional image was slipping. But then they’d caught a rough case who’s tail end saw their suspect escaping after she’d twisted her ankle giving chase. Exhausted and limping and cranky and ready for the mother of all dressing-downs -- she’d been too thoroughly nonplussed to argue when her boss didn’t say a word beyond one politely concerned offer to drive her home.
Then it was only gentlemanly, his seeing her to the door -- she was limping, after all -- but the order to grab everything because she was checking out? That had rung with pure command -- and left her completely speechless.
Was this where she was supposed to tell her boss that the reason she was living in cheap hotels was because her girlfriend kicked her out? She was out to friends and family, sure; but the FBI was a different beast entirely. Full of testosterone and old-school patriarchy. And while she liked Peter -- he was a good agent and a good boss -- she didn’t know him. Not really. And not nearly enough to know if honesty was always the best policy.
Turned out she had a lot to learn.