Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of CBS and are only used for fan related purposes. Any dialogue from the first episode, "Whap", included is used only to further the story.
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Puppy Dog Awful
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Seven—
It all happened seven years ago but Jimmy Mance, he remembers it clearly. The ill-fated camping trip, the unexpected blast at the marina, saving Abby from her would-be killer… it's all so vivid. But nothing is as vivid as his memory of the fateful night after the Wakefield murders when Charlie Mills sent his only daughter far away from Harper's Island.
He thinks about her every day: her dark eyes, her pretty smile, her laughter and her kisses. It's all he can do to not think about her every waking minute, and even then she lands the starring role in his dreams.
He wonders where she is and what she's doing just then. He wonders why she's so busy and if, perhaps, she's found somebody new since leaving. He wonders why, in all the weeks that follow, he still hasn't heard from her. No phone calls, no letters, no e-mails—nothing. Not a word, and certainly not an explanation.
Jimmy worries that, in the aftermath of her mother's tragic death, she's forgotten him along with the rest of her life on the island.
His heart is breaking, splintering and shattering and falling to pieces without her there to keep him whole. Not even Shane's taunts and smartass comments are enough for him to pretend that he doesn't care, that it doesn't kill him inside every time he remembers that she's gone.
But loneliness turns him angry, his personal grief making him violent, and Jimmy finds himself in fights so bad, so pointless, that only the sheriff himself can break them up. He's in over his head, lashing out at the world in between bouts of furious tears and destructive self-pity. Shane calls him puppy dog awful, and that's exactly how he feels.
That's how he wants everyone to feel, and he goes about trying to make sure they do—until one particularly nasty fight means that he went a step too far and he lands himself in jail. He figures the sheriff did it on purpose, milking the charges and keeping him his prisoner, but he doesn't care. In fact, it does him some good to see he isn't the only one devastated by Abby's absence.
Besides, three days behind bars with only your (ex)girlfriend's father for company is enough to get any guy's head straight.
When Jimmy gets out, he's still thinking about Abby—like always. But this time it's different. Now he wonders how long he'll have to wait before she comes back and he can return the favor by breaking her heart this time around.
Six—
It's six months back and Charlie drops the bombshell: Trish Wellington and Henry Dunn, a couple of kids who spent their summers on the island, are coming back at the end of the season to get married.
He brings up the subject nonchalantly during one of their weekly breakfasts. In between munching absently on a donut and taking sips off his coffee, he tells Jimmy that it'll be a weeklong affair, courtesy of Thomas Wellington's money.
Abby, he adds part wistfully, partly detached, will be coming, of course.
Of course.
Jimmy almost spits out his drink. Some of his lukewarm coffee dribbles out the corners of his mouth but he's too taken aback to even reach for a napkin.
Henry Dunn, Abby's childhood best friend and an all around good guy. It doesn't surprise him that Henry is the one who's going to end up marrying Trish—the two of them were always so perfect for each other. Almost as perfect, he thinks, as another couple he used to know…
That thought makes him wish that Charlie had decided to keep that little nugget of information to himself. He doesn't spit out his drink this time either, but he does choke on it a bit.
So, she's coming back. Finally.
Well, Jimmy would be waiting for her when she did. With big puppy dog eyes and a charming smile, he would be there and he would do whatever he had to do to convince Abby during that week that she was in love with him all over again. How wonderful would it be to discover that high school sweethearts could find love together after all these years apart? And while she's at her best friend's wedding, no less?
Until he follows through on the promise he made to his eighteen year old self and rejects her explicitly, that is.
After all, revenge is a dish best served cold.
Five—
Five weeks until the wedding of the century on Harper's Island—and five weeks until Abby has to come back to be a part of Henry and Trish's celebration.
Jimmy asks himself if it's weird that he's counting down to an event that he's not even invited to but, before he could convince himself that he's being perfectly sane, a quiet, breathy, "Excuse me," breaks up his thoughts.
In every way possible she's the opposite of Abby: blonde, tan, long-legged and half-naked in a tiny bikini top and denims shorts. He can practically hear Shane drooling over this Barbie Doll come alive, and he wishes he isn't so nice; then again, it might make him even nicer if he is to point out that California is a few states over.
He knows, too. He's been working up the courage to visit Los Angeles for years.
"Excuse me," she says again, a coy grin matching the purr in her voice, "but do you think you could tell me where I can go to get a good, strong drink?"
With her big baby blues winking up at him, he's aware that she coming on to him—though he can't, for the life of him, understand what there is about a fisherman that is so attractive—but it barely registers. He's used to tourists asking questions of him because he's a local; he's also used to answering their questions before dismissing them with a hearty and fake-friendly wave goodbye.
With a kind smile and a jerk of his head, he gestures towards the end of the dock. "Uh, yeah. Sure. There's a great place called the Cannery not too far from here. It's serves a good beer, but, if you don't mind my saying so, I wouldn't go in there alone like that. It'd probably be a better idea if you brought someone along with you." He drops the fish he's working on, picking up a second without skipping a beat. "Are you vacationing on the island alone?"
She looks confused, too startled by the muted disinterest in his tone to keep up the act. "No. I… I'm here with some of my friends."
"That's good, then, huh? I'm sure you and your friends will have a nice time. Just tell the girl at the bar that Jimmy sent you by. She'll take care of you."
She's pouting, obviously unused to such polite rejection. "Oh… okay. Thanks?" she says, more of a question than a statement. She shrugs her shoulders a bit dramatically—Jimmy pointedly looks down at the fish he's gutting—before walking away, utterly bemused.
He only looks up again when he feels Shane's brotherly smack against his arm. The rubber glove makes a thwapping noise; the fish guts that spray up at his face is just another part of the job.
"You're pathetic, man," he tells him, punctuating his observation with a short, bark of a laugh.
Jimmy smiles, unbothered by Shane's criticism. There were, to put it in a way they both understood, bigger fish to fry. Maybe next season he would finally feel free to flirt back with the tourists alongside Shane… just not yet.
It may have taken seven years and the promise of her return to the island, but soon he would get the chance to do what he swore to do after she left: he would make her love him again and then it would be her turn to known what it felt like to be abandoned.
With an even wider smile at the prospect of sharing his pain with someone he used to love, Jimmy chuckles under his breath and shakes his head in cheery anticipation.
Shane just rolls his eyes before turning his attention away from his pal back to something more worth his time: the backside of that blonde tourist.
Four—
Four days left and he finds himself talking with Charlie. They're shooting the breeze like usual—Jimmy is too used to the sheriff keeping tabs on him over the years to think their camaraderie is strange anymore—both of them careful not to mention the big, pink elephant lurking at the end of the marina.
In the years that followed Abby's leaving, Jimmy's acceptance that she was gone and Charlie's switch from his girlfriend's father to an unlikely male role model to an even unlikelier friend, the two men have perfected the art of having a conversation without mentioning the one thing that brought them together in the first place.
It's the end of the season and Harper's Island seems calm and quiet. There are mainly locals out on the street, living their lives and going about their day. The only sign that the peace will be disturbed in four days time is the wedding planner and the crew from the mainland that the Wellingtons sent over to help Maggie Krell set up the Candlewick Inn for the guests.
Jimmy watches them come and go, arriving on the ferry and unloading boxes and boxes of who knows what. Everything is a reminder of the upcoming Wellington-Dunn wedding—which, in turn, brings his thoughts right back to her.
In four days, he tells himself, a yacht will arrive with Abby Mills on it.
He can't wait—and he can't help but anxiously worry that she might decide not to come at all.
His arms crossed over his chest, he tries to sound indifferent as he points out the elephant that neither one of them admits to ignoring: "So, um, did Abby tell you she was coming for real?"
Charlie frowns, obviously surprised by his question. He prefers it when his daughter's presence is felt and not discussed.
Grimacing a bit with the weight of his answer, he says, "No, Jimmy, she didn't." He pauses, staring out at the choppy morning waves. "You know I haven't spoken to her since… since…"
Immediately, Jimmy regrets bringing it up. He should've known better, but he doesn't. All he wants is confirmation that she will be there when the wedding party docked.
He's getting tired of still waiting.
Charlie feels his restlessness and can see how much of a toll Abby's prospective return had taken on Jimmy. Apart from himself, nobody misses his daughter more.
He clears his throat. "But I know her. Henry's coming back for a once-in-a-lifetime event. She won't miss it, for his sake."
"Yeah," Jimmy agrees, brightening up a bit. Thank goodness for Henry, he thinks. He's going to have to owe him a beer for being an unwitting enabler.
"I just hope she does come," Charlie mumbles gruffly, more as an aside than to Jimmy. "I miss her."
"Yeah…"
Three—
Three hours and the clock is driving him crazy. In turn, he's driving Shane crazy—and Shane, smartly enough and maybe because he's just a bit lazy, has already disappeared for the morning. He doesn't mind, either. Too much of a nice guy to ever call his best friend out for any of his shirking, he decides it's probably all for the best for him to be left alone. He has a feeling that the first stages of his plans would go over much more smoothly if Shane was conveniently absent.
From the local gossip and yacht runners, he knows that the Wellington boat will be leaving Seattle Harbor at two o'clock. Harper's Island is 37 miles off of the coast of Seattle. Taking in account the promising weather conditions, it shouldn't be long before she arrives.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
He debates following Shane's example and cutting out early. His clothes reek of old fish and he is sure he could do with a shower and a shave himself. In the end, he decides not to; he doesn't want to make it look like he's trying too hard.
Besides, it was a fisherman Abby fell for when they were in high school—not that she really had much choice, he notes, since most locals on the island were fishermen—and he wants nothing more than to remind her who he is.
Who they were…
The minutes are dragging and, if it isn't for the fact that he saw Shane sneak off, he might've worried that Shane is setting the hands back just to mess with him.
It seems like a Shane thing to do, even if his friend has no idea what, exactly, Jimmy is waiting for. He's never been a good actor—almost after Charlie first told him about the wedding, Shane knew something was up—but Shane is self-absorbed enough not to pressure Jimmy for answers. Which, since the topic of Abby Mills is touchy enough and he has no intention of bringing her up to Shane until he sees her with his own eyes on the island, works just as well for him.
He'd had enough of Shane's remarks when he was a kid. He didn't want to bring it all back up again if he didn't have to. Shane means well—and he's always looked out for Jimmy—but Abby is one person that they could never seem to agree on.
No doubt because Shane was there to watch him self-destruct right after she left…
With a small sigh and a quick glance at the clock, Jimmy contents himself with the knowledge that it won't be like that this time.
Two—
And suddenly, despite his defective clock, there's only two minutes left now and the boat is already docked.
As he picks his knife back up again and busies himself with his fish just to have something to do with his hands, his eyes stray over to the lavish yacht and the people who are beginning to disembark. He doesn't recognize many of them, or even any of them apart from the stunning engaged couple who lead the way, but he only has eyes for the dark-haired girl he's waited for all these years.
It strikes him as funny—as kind of ironic, maybe—that the last time he saw her she'd been on a boat, too. Only that one had been leaving the island and this one… this one has brought her back to him.
As the seconds pass and the pace of his beating heart starts to quicken, he struggles to think up a smooth opening line for when they inevitably meet again.
Something about 'long time, no see' seems cruelly appropriate on so many levels.
One—
One second and, as he spies Abby Mills for the first time since she left Harper's Island all those years ago, he remembers just why he'd been so angry. He remembers why those first couple of days, then weeks, were the hardest, and why he'd always held onto the slim hope that she would come back to him. With her home, back where she belongs, he instantly feels whole.
Complete.
She looks adorable when she's nervous, he decides, the way she anxiously taps the palms of her hands against the yacht's rail.
Whether she wanted to or not, she's come home—even if she is one of the last of the wedding guests to leave the boat. His eyes find her anyway, and he places his knife down as he stares up at her. It if isn't for the fact that this is Henry's wedding he doubts she would have willingly come on the boat at all.
But rather than feel a jealous jab—Henry's always been like a brother to Abby, and he was the only guy on the island Jimmy felt safe to let around on her own when they were dating—Jimmy smiles, shakes his head and places his hand on his hips. His expression is as obvious as her mannerisms familiar: that's Abby for you. Loyal to a fault.
And then, just as he worries that she might turn around and ride back to Seattle, she's coming down the walkway and he's nearly stumbling in his attempt to smoothly meet her before she disappears. With only another second to spare, he's leaning suavely against the pier, drinking her in, making it seem like he just so happened to be nearby instead of consciously waiting for her arrival.
He's grinning like an idiot when she glances at him before hurriedly turning her head away. Their eyes meet for half a second, and he's stunned. Suddenly, it doesn't matter to him how foolish he looks. He's desperate to talk to her, and his heart has already cut off any contact with his brain.
It isn't about revenge anymore, he realizes with a start. It isn't about charming her senseless and trampling on her heart once she'd foolishly given it back to him. A nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach suggests that it never was.
No, it's about how much—even now—he can't help but feel anything but love for her, and, oh God, she's beautiful.
Jimmy's revenge is over before it even has a chance to begin.
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"Abby Mills."
He was surprised at how even his voice sounded. Considering his heart was about to leap out of his chest at the mere sight of her, he was pretty impressed with himself.
Biting her bottom lip as she tried to avoid his earnest gaze, Abby was able to manage a quick, "Hi, Jimmy."
She didn't stop walking, and he quickly pushed himself off of the wooden beam so that he could keep up with her. "Hey." He wasn't going to let her get away that easily. Not now. Not ever. "I knew someday you'd come back to me."
"And I knew you'd be here."
"Oh, yeah? And how's that?"
She didn't miss a beat with their playful banter: "I could smell you from the mainland."
He put a hand to his chest as if her words had wounded him. That was the Abby he remembered all right—right down to the sharp-tongued barbs delivered with an impish smile. Still, he was laughing as he countered, "So that's how it's going to be, huh? Big city girl now?"
She didn't answer him—counting a former local among city folk was as low a blow as a current local could deal—but he didn't feel any animosity coming off of her, either. In fact, unless she had changed more about her than her appearance—she was more gorgeous in that laid-back way of hers than any other girl he knew—he would have bet that she was just as pleased to see him. She just wasn't going to admit it.
That was all right, though. Jimmy had a devilish idea to prove to himself that perhaps his waiting hadn't been in vain—that maybe she did still care.
Quickly, before she could say anything else or even make her getaway, he told her, "So, uh, I changed, too."
"That hat or the gloves?"
"No." He gave a small pause for dramatic effect before announcing, "I'm married now."
His arms crossed over his chest, Jimmy stopped two full steps behind Abby. The lie was out of his mouth before he knew it—his heart was taking over everything it seemed—and, if he was being honest with himself, he couldn't wait to see her reaction.
She didn't disappoint.
There was no humor in her voice, or any laughter in her eyes when she accused him of being a liar.
"Yeah, yeah… no, I'm kidding," Jimmy agreed, smirking a bit because he couldn't keep his face straight any longer. He took his rubber gloves off, showing Abby his bare left hand. "No, but I had you for a second, right? Didn't I?"
"No, I was just feeling pity for the poor girl," she shot back.
She didn't give him the satisfaction of turning back to face him—which was good for her since she would've rather died before letting him see the relief that flashed across her face.
"Right, pretend like I didn't," he called victoriously after her. But the victory lasted only for a second before he realized that his funny little joke had scared her off. She was already almost out of earshot when he yelled out her name again. "Hey, Abby."
He waited to see if she would stop. When she did, he added, "Welcome home," with his hands mockingly placed on his heart.
But, behind the smile and the overly friendly façade, Jimmy felt the vestiges of his best-laid plans as they crumbled around his feet. Vaguely, he wondered if he hadn't really known that this would happen when they met again; that he hadn't spent the last seven years coming up with a way to get her back for leaving only because he was afraid that she would never come back, and that he was afraid that, if she did, he might not even care anymore.
There's no doubt about it: Jimmy Mance does care. One look at Abby Mills, all grown up and back within his reach, was enough to reaffirm that undeniable truth.
And, for the first time in seven years, he understood what it was that he had been waiting for: for Abby to return the piece of his heart she'd taken with her when she left. But with that understanding came another one: he didn't want her to return it anymore. It already—and always had—belonged to her.
Here's my heart, he offered silently as she walked away with another one of her quick retorts, I've kept it waiting.
Then, because she had disappeared up the plank, he dropped his hands and hung his head before heading back to the fish that was waiting for him. Maybe Shane was right after all, he thought as he retrieved his cleaver.
Abby really did turn him into some kind of puppy dog awful.
Author's Note: Consider this a mix between adoring the first interaction between Jimmy and Abby in episode no. 1, and feeling vaguely vindicated to hear that Jimmy had planned to break her heart all along -- but couldn't do it in the end because he loved her too much. While my twisted shipper's heart felt for the sad way Henry/Abby ended with the finale, you gotta love some nice, happy-ish Jimmy/Abby fluff. I hope you enjoyed it -- and keep on watching. I've got a couple more fics up my sleever that I went to get done before long ;)
