Truth & Reconcilation (Jamey)

[Eslytt Sunderland]

It had been a week, a long week in which there were times she often felt like she was on the break of tears. Tears that likely would have fallen had she not had the willpower not to allow herself to cry, to not allow herself the weakness. There was too much at stake now, alone and without a means to provide for herself, beyond what she had saved up. That money would fade in time, as she would pay her bills and other assorted costs, though that time was between three and six months depending upon how frugal she was.

She knew that the man down the hall would help her, if he knew of the situation and she asked him for it. Yet Elsie could not ask him for him, not after that awful night a week ago. She had let her feelings get in the way then, had let her beliefs cloud her judgement and had pushed him away. As much as she might have wanted to, that was a road that now was blocked off. What more a fool she would look if she ran to him now, giving up those beliefs and principals that had caused her to push him away in the first place.

It had been a week since she had curled up in a blanket on the couch and read The Prince. It was not a work that she particularly liked but... she thought maybe it could help her understand. Jamey seemed to live life like Machiavelli, maybe by picking away at the dead man's works she could figure out what it was the made Jamey tick, made him feel the way he did. Unfortunately for her, all it made her do was fall asleep, finding the work much too far from her own philosophies to keep more than a passing interest in the chapters.

Today she had had a doctor's appointment, a follow up interview with the detectives who had worked her case, and needed to do her laundry. That meant she had to go to the store and buy some detergent, which also meant that she had to buy some groceries while she was out. That was a bit of a problem it turned out as she was trying to make it from the elevator to her door when two of the bags ripped and her vegetables and fruit went splattering onto the floor. "Fucking hell! That's twenty dollars I don't have ruined!" She yelled in frustration as she looked down at the smashed remnants of bananas, tomatoes, grapes, and kiwis.

This was the last thing she needed, as she was also supposed to go meet someone at bar later in the evening. A "mutual friend" of hers and Jamey's that wanted to give her a pick me up after her ordeal, or so they said. Honestly, Elsie was not sure if she wanted to go anywhere right now or have anything to do with Jamey. The fact that she had to perjure herself for his friend was annoying enough right now on top of the misery she felt in having to relive that night for the detectives. Elsie knew they were just doing their jobs, but god damn was it horrible and degrading to have to retell time and time again.

With a resigned sigh, she tried to work her way around the immediate causes of her frustrations. Hopefully no one else would have heard her and she could clean up the mess before anyone else noticed. It would just be her day though if management or one of the fellow tenants came upon it before she could remove the evidence, especially if it was a certain male individual she was feeling quite emotionally torn over.

[Jamison Cavanaugh]

Unfortunately for Elsie, not only had Jamison seen the mess, he had also heard her words right after it happened. He had been going out for a jog, and, like most things in life, could have missed the whole ordeal if things had been just a different. If he had actually pressed the Play button on his MP3 player instead of pausing to hear the steps coming up the hall, the music might have prevented him from hearing her outburst. If he had not almost forgotten his cellphone, he might have left earlier, and probably would have taken the stairs, missing Elsie altogether. Fate, though, had other ideas, it seemed.

He would have preferred to see her when he was more appropriately dressed, as in, not wearing an old T-shirt and shorts like he usually did for working out. And really, he could have stayed in his apartment and avoided her, He seriously considered that for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, just after he heard her voice reverberate on the other side.

It had been a difficult week for him as well. He would have liked to throw himself into his work, but Reese and Finch had kept him at arm's length, instead assigning him satellite tasks to support the cases they were working on. He had been interviewed by the detectives as well, and had given them the same story. He thought they were hoping there was more to the story, like a jealous boyfriend or some sort of malevolence on his part, but there wasn't, not in his version of the story. He left out how he had flown into a rage, how he felt no remorse for killing the man.

He would not mention that to Elsie, either. How much more would she hate him if she knew how he felt about that night? That he had never felt a bit of remorse? That every night in his dreams, he killed Wash again, in increasingly more torturous, violent ways? If what he had said at their dinner had scared her away, how much more the fact that he could be a cold, unrepentant monster?

So he had done his best to avoid her, to avoid the feelings he knew were welling up within him. Now, though, there was no avoiding them or her. He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.

There she was, frustrated and beautiful. Even after all that had happened, he still wanted her as much as the night they had first met, if not more. There at her feet was a mishmash of fruits and vegetables, obviously having fallen out of defective bags.

He paused at the threshold. There was little he could do, really. He didn't have any kiwis or grapes to give her. Basically, if it didn't go into a taco, odds were he didn't have it. But he could loan her twenty dollars if she needed. But why did she need twenty dollars? He knew she wasn't working, but he had assumed she was being compensated or had some other means of covering her finances.

Although he wasn't working as much as he wanted to, he was still getting a good deal of money, and could easily help her out if she wanted it. That was the only question - whether she wanted help. For one, he knew her to be fiercely independent. For another, help from him would likely be very degrading at this point. As far as he knew, she hated his guts.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the hallway, closing his apartment door behind him, and began to help her clean up the mess. He said nothing as he gathered up the remains of the produce. What could he say that wouldn't hurt one of them? No, he would just help her here, and then be on his way. He couldn't afford to make any more stupid mistakes with her.

[Eslytt Sunderland]

Elsie inwardly sighed as out of nowhere Jamison appeared next to her and began to help her clean up the mess of her ruined groceries. Her stomach was in knots as he was there beside her, silently doing his task, almost as if she was invisible. There was not even so much as a silent acknowledgement of her, just a focus on the task at hand. Was she dead to him, had they become that distant because of that night?

"Thank you for helping me Jamey." she meeped, just trying to get his attention. What more could she try to say to get a positive response from him? Was there to be nothing between them at all any more because of ideological differences? Surely Jamey was not that cold to just cut her out of his life, to treat her as if she was some sort of ghost. They had connected so well for those two weeks, was that all a lie, was there really nothing special between them?

"Jamey, do you think you could spare a minute and come have a drink with me?" It was something small but at least it would get them alone in private where they could maybe talk. If he did not even want to talk to her... well she was holding out the hope that maybe that Jamey was more than man she thought him to be than the man he was pretending to be right now.

[Jamison Cavanaugh]

After all they had been through together in such a short amount of time, it should have been easy for them to get past their differences, to see inside each other. But the simple fact was, Jamison and Elsie were only starting to get to know each other. He had no idea what to do in this situation other than the obvious, unaware that in his silence, he was only making things worse.

Though it seemed he only could make things worse. Running his mouth, being too personal with his questioning, had gotten them into this. Perhaps it was Jamison's investigative nature. He had never really learned to shut it off when it was unneeded. Whatever the case, something was getting in the way, and he found himself blaming only himself. She was an innocent victim in this, and he the perpetrator.

When she thanked him, Jamison looked up and gave her a nod. "You're welcome, Elsie." The feel of her name past his lips had him pause a moment. It was strange. Yet she followed up by being the stronger one and inviting him for a drink. There was that tenacity he had seen in her - yet he also felt cowardly for not having done the same himself, before.

"Of course." He gave her a small smile as he accepted her offer. Now he really wished he was dressed better. But things had played out the way they had, perhaps the way they were meant to, and he simply followed along. Following her inside, he remembered having set up the place for her while she was in the hospital, the time and effort he had put into making it look and feel similar but different compared to her old place. He would not have done that for just anyone.

There was a bit of silence between them as Jamison thought about what to say. Words had gotten him into trouble before. Were he to apologize outright, how would she take it? She would have every right to be suspicious. But there was nothing untoward about his actions, no hidden agenda in his thoughts. He just wanted to make things right.

"Last time we spoke… I said some things that I shouldn't have. Things that unsettled you. I want to apologize for that." Briefly he looked at her, hoping to gauge her response ahead of her words. He had ruined a perfectly good night last time, and he was not looking to do that again.