Title: predator vs prey
Prompt: prompt 14—presage
Summary: He should stop this, he knows. Before something happens.
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"Oswa—I mean, Glen," Jack began, twirling a golden pocket watch in his hands. He was fiddling with it, adjusting the tune minutely so it was shifted an octave lower. "You know…"
Glen looked up from his book. When Jack didn't continue, he asked, "What?"
Jack hummed as he changed a gear. "One minute, almost there." His fingers were surprisingly nimble, moving small screws and smaller gears into place. Glen kept his book open in his lap as he watched Jack.
It wasn't odd for Jack to be so quiet. Unless he wanted something, the man was always willing to do what others wanted from him. To be accommodating.
No, it wasn't odd, but something about this raised Glen's hackles.
"There, done." Jack smiled triumphantly, closing the watch's back. Winding up the clock, he held it out for Glen to hear. "What do you think?"
The song, it sounded familiar, and it took a moment to realize it was Lacie's song. Her favourite piece of his and there was no other name for it than her own.
He looked at Jack now. The other man was observing him and there was a glint in his eyes, an eagerness that he couldn't hide no matter how much he tried.
Jack, Jack was planning something. Glen resisted the urge to shiver.
"This song…"
"I thought it would be a good piece to put on her grave." Jack smiled, genially. But his eyes were still watching, a predator to the prey. "It's her song after all. And I wanted to say goodbye. Properly. You know, it's something we both put together. I think she would have liked it." He closed his eyes, giving a half smile. "What do you think?"
And he wanted to nod and agree, to say yes, this was perfect. This was Lacie.
His body refused to move. "Jack, what are you planning?"
Shaking his head, Jack closed the watch, turning it off. "Nothing, nothing at all. Trust me." The half smile was back, a trace of sadness on it from the doubt. "I just want to give an old friend a proper farewell."
(And those eyes, those eyes told a million lies, a million promises.)
He should do something about this, he knew. He should. Before something bad, something irreparable happened.
But he wanted to believe in Jack, to believe in him the way Gil and Vincent blindly did. Jack was good to them. He didn't ask too many questions and he was content to come whenever Glen allowed it.
More importantly, he had stopped asking about Lacie.
Maybe he was really letting go of her with this.
Oswald wanted to hope, for once. He wanted to be friends. He wanted to believe.
"Let's put it on her grave tomorrow," he replied.
(In his mind, a dozen Glens shook their head in dismay.)