Evidence
Warnings: Alternate History (for Liz) Nothing terribly different, just a fudge here and there.
Disclaimer: We no own, we borrow, we give back, no sue.
PG-13
"One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries." A.A. Milne (1882 - 1956)
"Where is it?" Liz caught her lower lip in her teeth and surveyed the room.
Jason watched her from the doorway, smiling ever so slightly.
"What are you looking for, Elizabeth?" he asked.
"I just can't make heads or tails of this room. Since moving into this house my whole life has been in a shambles." She sighed and sat down on a stool by a pile of boxes.
"I offered to hire movers…"
"I don't like strangers handling my stuff."
"And there lies your problem."
She looked up from the mess to Jason.
"So, this is my fault."
"I hadn't intended to lay blame…"
"But, yeah, yeah, this is why the kids are with Grams. So I can sort through all the…" she blew her breath out in a big sigh, "junk."
"Do you want help?"
"Unless help means standing in the doorway and offering moral support, no. It might get a bit boring for you. I won't put you through it."
He made a move to enter the room.
"Seriously, Jason, I'll handle it. I just need a plan of attack."
"Okay, but if I hear any loud crashing or swearing, I'll bring the first aid kit."
She smiled at him grimly, "Thanks."
"What did I do, put my whole life in these boxes?"
Liz had set up a starting point at the place farthest from the door and was working that way. So far, she had managed to break things down into piles of garbage, charity, keepsakes, and 'what the hell do I still have this for?'
"Jeans that were only in style for five minutes, rips and all. God, I thought I was such a badass in these. I hope I burned all those pictures."
Liz continued to ruminate to herself as she opened and looked through boxes.
"Speaking of pictures…" she said picking up a photo album. "Birthdays through the ages."
Inside the album were photos of Liz's birthdays since she was about fifteen. Many of them featuring Emily. Tears started to well, so she decided to set it aside. No time for an emotional breakdown just now. Way too much stuff to do.
She began to work in earnest. She focused her energy away from sadness to just completing a bit of today's mission.
She heard Jason's voice as he stepped through the door.
"You never answered my question."
A bit red and sweaty, Liz looked up at him. He was holding a glass of ice tea. She immediately made a bee-line to him, took the glass and gulped some down.
"Thanks," she said and kissed him on the cheek, then, "What?"
"What are you looking for?"
"Living room stuff." She pushed her hair back out of her face and looked around the room. "I stuck all the living room pictures, odds and ends, you know, all the knick knacks, in a box. Then I stuck a whole mess of boxes in this room. It was just looking so bland and beige in there, I wanted to get some of that stuff out and start decorating."
"But, no luck."
"Not so far," she sighed. "And I won't if you keep interrupting me with much needed refreshments."
Jason grinned and brushed his lips against her cheek.
"Don't work too hard. We don't want bed time to be a total loss."
"You naughty man!" she said, faux shocked. "I don't know what you're thinking."
"I'll be happy to show you…"
She backed away from him, laughing.
"Oh, no you don't. No more interruptions… Not even tall, sexy ones who look hot in their black t-shirts."
"Keep that talk up and you're going to get put to bed, miss."
"Bedtime will come soon enough."
"So you say…" Jason said as he headed out the door.
Many hours later, and many visions of cold ice tea and/or soothing showers later, Liz began to make some sense of the junk room. She took a small box from the floor and placed it on top of a higher pile of boxes across the room. Just as she turned around to start a new stack, she heard the unmistakable sound of boxes crashing to the floor.
"Shit."
As she kneeled to pick up what turned out to be more photos, she chanced upon something that completely struck her.
"Oh, he's going to… I'm… Hah! I'll post 'em on the internet…"
As this disjointed monologue was drawing to a close Jason was walking down the hall.
"Something interesting?" he called as he went by.
"No," she squeaked. "Nothing really."
The footsteps stopped and reversed. Jason appeared at the door.
"What do you have?"
"Nothing."
"Elizabeth."
"Yes?" she queried, trying to look as innocent as possible.
He moved across the room and caught her up in his arms. She went to put the pictures behind her back, which was silly, as that was the direction his hands were going in. In seconds, he had her prize and was gazing at it with a mix of mild horror and grim amusement.
"These pictures are fifteen years old. How did you even get them?"
"It's not like I was going through your stuff. I just took all the miscellaneous boxes and stuck them in here. If you didn't want anyone to see them, you should have burned them. Or at least marked them 'Do not touch'.
The End.