A/N: So, me updating two days in a row is not going to be a regular thing! This chapter just came very easily because it's more of a transition one, and even though I have a vague idea of what's going to happen, I don't have much of a plan for this—so I'll probably fall back into the pattern of my erratic updating schedule. Also, if anyone seems too OOC, I deeply apologize, I'm still trying to find my footing with this.

-o-o-o-

The look of sheer mortification that quickly came across Jean's face as she entered the room was enough to tell Jack she had certainly not expected to see him there, which caused him to feel an odd mixture of anger and shame that was not familiar to him. Again, she looked older, more graceful even. Her once-wild hair was now contained in loose ringlets that framed her face, her makeup was not as dark as it usually had been and her dress hit right below her knees. Almost as if he was forgetting that Atticus was his brother, Jack greedily wondered if he had ever seen Jean the same way Jack had. Though their meetings certainly were not sacred, he couldn't help but to feel a strange twinge of satisfaction at the fact Atticus may not have seen what Jack had seen.

"Brother," Atticus said happily as he crossed the room to hug his brother while Jean stood petrified in what seemed to him to be sheer terror. "It looks as though Nashville is doing you good."

His eyes instantly went to her and he knew it made her uncomfortable because of the way she quickly shifted on her feet, averting her gaze to a portrait that hung on the wall. A warm smile grew on Atticus' face as he looked at her. "Jack, this is Jean," he said, not knowing of the sticky past between the two of them. There was a gleam in Atticus' eyes that was unfamiliar to Jack. "I've been courting her for quite some time," he stated matter-of-factly, a small smile on his face.

For a moment, Jack remained silent, though all he really wanted to do was scream. How was it that he had spent the past four years wanting her, dreaming about her, loving her and his damn brother was the one who got her? It didn't seem right. It didn't seem fair.

If he really wanted to embarrass himself and his family, he could have lashed out. Could have laid everything right there on the table, humiliating her and possibly ruining whatever she and his brother had. He could've been cruel, calling her names and portraying her to be trash. He could've broken her heart like he broke his.

But then, he thought of his brother.

His brother who worked harder than he needed to just so Jack could attend one of the finest schools in Boston. His brother who had inherited the Landing when their father died, and could have sold it to make a profit for himself, but instead gave it to Alexandra so that she could remain comfortable. His brother who kept Caroline out of trouble by also funding for her to go to secretarial school in Mississippi. His brother who acted more like a father to his siblings than their actual father was.

While it would have made Jack feel incredibly good to lash out, to throw a tantrum like a child, he thought of what that would do to Atticus. Of course he'd seen his brother happy before, but the way he looked at Jean reminded Jack of what he felt on the inside and he found that he couldn't do what he wanted to. It just wasn't fair.

"Hello," Jack said curtly, flashing Jean a fake smile. It was as if she had been holding her breath, waiting for him to say something that would ruin her, because it was almost as if she deflated with his simple greeting.

"Pleasure," she responded, her voice stiff.

This was going to be a very miserable night indeed.

-o-o-o-

After that mortifying experience, Jack sequestered himself into his father's old study. It was the one place in the Landing that still brought him comfort after all these years, mainly because it was the one room Alexandra didn't bother messing in once the Landing became hers. While it no longer had the thick smell of cigars that Jack most associated with Jeremy Finch, its new musty scent still made him feel at home. For a while he examined the books, their old leather spines fading with age and dust, and decided to pour himself a glass of scotch from a bottle that had probably not been opened in nearly ten years.

He almost immediately regretted drinking it. The warm liquid burned his throat as he swallowed it, causing him to choke. Alexandra certainly wouldn't be pleased to see this—not only did she find everything that Jack did imperfect, but she generally looked at drinking as though it was a shameful activity.

The door slowly creaked open, and Jack quickly hid the scotch and glass, fully expecting Alexandra to come bursting through the doorframe.

Instead, it was her.

Again, she looked mortified. Her pale cheeks flushed pink as she stood there deciding whether or not to enter. Remaining in the doorway, she embarrassedly said: "I was looking for the washroom."

"This obviously isn't it."

She exhaled sharply, looking quite taken aback. "Listen," she said firmly, sliding into the room and closing the door behind her. "I didn't know—"

"Didn't know what?" He interrupted, crossing his arms. "Didn't know you were courting my brother while I—"

She was beginning to look angry. "While you were what?" She nearly hissed. "It's not as if—"

"I told you I loved you—"

"I know that!"

"And did that mean anything—"

"No!" She replied, her voice slightly higher in pitch. While her eyes still shone with anger, it was evident by the way her shoulders slumped that she had slight feelings of regret about what she had said.

"Well, that's nice to know."

"I didn't," she began, cutting herself off to sigh and look around the room. "Jack, I was a child—"

"Obviously," He chided. "Though you still look like one next to him, he's an old man next to y—"

"He's your brother," she said. "You're talkin' like he's trash. He doesn't know."

"Ah, you've hidden your wild ways—"

"He knows I've never been a lady," she said heatedly before stopping herself. "This is none of your business!"

"If that's what you think." He said coolly.

She inhaled deeply. "I don't have time to discuss this now." She glowered. "Your sister already hates me, so God knows what she's thinkin' about me takin' so long."

And with that, she quickly departed, leaving Jack angrier than anything.

-o-o-o-

All through dinner, Jack found himself in desperate need for a cigarette. He found that the old scotch he'd been sipping was not enough to quell the rage that steadily grew within him. However, he did get a slight satisfaction watching Alexandra interrogate her new dinner guest.

"Now, how did you meet Atticus?"

"My father's the judge for Montgomery and the two of them met once Atticus became a part of the legislature," Jean responded. Her voice sounded calmer and smoother than it had been when she was in the study with Jack, making him furious that she was able to go along unaffected so quickly. "I met him when my daddy invited him over for supper."

"I'm sure your mother must be glad you've found yourself a lawyer like your father," Alexandra remarked as she put larger-than-normal portions on Jean's plate. Alexandra always did this to her guests as a test to see if they would dare to eat all of it. Despite how good Alexandra's cooking was, it was nearly impossible to eat all of the servings, which was quite insulting to Alexandra. Jack could tell his oldest sister was weary of Jean, which made him feel as though she was unknowingly on his side.

"She's dead, actually," Jean replied bluntly. "She had a heart attack when I was thirteen."

"That's a shame," Alexandra responded in an attempt to look sympathetic. From the corner of his eye, Jack could see Atticus glancing at his sister.

"I suppose it is," Jean replied. "We were able to pick ourselves up from it, though."

"Who's we?" Alexandra asked as Atticus' gaze grew stronger.

"My daddy and my brothers and I." Jean stated matter-of-factly.

"Are your brothers lawyers as well?"

"They're currently risking getting their limbs blown off in the trenches of Europe."

"That's hardly a way to speak about young men defending our country!" Alexandra responded, clearly appalled.

"In my opinion," Jean said confidently. "This entire war is an awful waste of time."

It was as if the entire room went still. Nobody dared to pick up their silverware and instead all of the attention was brought to Jean and Alexandra. Jimmy, Alexandra's husband, looked as if he was going to say something, but the man was so apathetic that Jack would be downright surprised if that actually happened.

"Why's that?" Alexandra asked, sneering at the other woman.

Jack could tell that Jean was trying her hardest not to roll her eyes at Alexandra. From the way she suddenly sat up rigidly straight and attempted to soften her gaze indicated to Jack that she was trying her best not to mess this up more than she already was. Jean cleared her throat. "Well," she began, softening her tone and trying to sound less self-assured. "I believe the way that everyone's portrayin' this war to be is downright messin' up reality," she said, deliberately picking each of her words. "This won't solve the world's problems, it'll only add to it. These things cost money and lives—"

"I don't think that's anything for a young lady to be concerned about," Alexandra interrupted, her scowl deepening. If there was anything Jack's sister hated, it was women involving themselves in things that were typically left for men.

"But I think it is," Jean said, her voice growing firm once more. "Right now the only people makin' decisions are white men, and if America wants to be as representative as it says it is, I think it should better include the voices of the women and Negroes. Maybe then we wouldn't be in such a—"

"I don't think this should be discussed." Alexandra said firmly, looking away from Jean as a final indication that she was finished with the conversation.

Jean looked defeated, but at the same time it was as though she knew what the end result of that conversation was going to be. For a quick moment, Jack was filled with his familiar feelings of admiration for the girl, but quickly squashed them when he reminded himself what she had done to him. He noticed Atticus, who did not look embarrassed by the ordeal that just occurred, but rather sympathetic. "That's a shame," he said quietly to Alexandra, flashing her a small smile before returning to his meal.

The rest of dinner was full of an awkward silence that was sometimes interrupted by Alexandra attempting to ease the tension by bringing up stories of their childhood that neither Jack nor Atticus really acknowledged. Jack imagined that all Atticus wanted to do was to take Jean and leave the condescending scrutiny of Alexandra, just as Jack once again hide in the old, dusty study.

Jack tried to imagine what Atticus' reaction would be if he knew of what had happened between him and Jean, but he honestly found that to be a difficult task. In Jack's mind, Atticus always reminded him of knight—brave and unflinching when confronted with difficult tasks. He honestly didn't know what Atticus would do if he discovered that Jack was in love with the girl he brought home. Would he keep that in the past and move on with her? Would he break it off, sparing his brother's feelings? Would he be hurt (Jack could never remember a time when Atticus had been hurt, which brought him some shame because he knew it had to have happened at least once)? His mind was spinning, and all he knew was that he never imagined something like this happening to him.

He couldn't help but wonder if he was being selfish, feeling sorry for himself while Atticus seemed the happiest he had been in a long time. But, at the same time, Jack couldn't help but to think that he was justified in being jealous, justified in being angry over the fact that he felt so damn used.

He was going to be home for the next two weeks—maybe he could sit Atticus aside and tell him everything that had happened, tell him that there was the high likelihood that Jean was going to toss Atticus aside just as she did with Jack.

But, what if that wasn't her intention? What if she really loved Atticus in the way that Jack loved her? Would it be cruel to destroy something that could possibly make his brother's life better? At the same time, however, he wanted her to suffer.

He almost didn't notice Jean and Atticus get up to leave. He wondered if she was staying somewhere in Maycomb (he wondered if she was staying with him) or if he was going to make the trek back to Montgomery at this late hour (would he stay with her, then?). Alexandra stiffly hugged both of her guests before they both came to say goodbye to him.

Pretending to be cordial, he hugged her and as he did he whispered: "you're right, she does hate you." It might have been malicious, but he didn't care.

It was her turn to look hurt.