Two weeks. That was all he was given to productively try and get the girl that seemed to run a mock in his mind.

"You look like shit." - Not only that, but it appeared she now ran a mock on him physically as well. Max casually strolls into Eric's office, a flowing mix of witty criticism in his perfectly timed steps. The door slowly creaks to close behind him and Max runs his eyes over him for a little while longer before sighing and bringing his lips to a fine line. "You been up all night?"

"Something like that." Eric doesn't stop rummaging through the bottom drawer of his desk, then busies himself onto the paper in front of him. His pen flicks ferociously and papers get signed in the same fashion as that of an electronic machine. "You got those reports?"

"You mean, the Amity reports? That you requested? The faction you couldn't give two shits about any other time of the year?" Max leans on the back of the chair that sits opposite Eric's desk and finally, he lifts his head to meet his questionable gaze.

"I now have business at Amity. So yes, I am talking about the Amity reports."

"This wouldn't have to do with that little brunette would it?" Max rounds the chair and plops himself loosely in it, rubbing the side of his head animatedly and Eric guessed it was another one of his migraines resurfacing. "Don't deny it, I saw what I saw."

"What you saw, was an old friend of mine. And she wanted me to go to her wedding..." He's already said too much and catches himself before he says anything further.

"Fuck that, I went to Johanna's and -"

"If you have the reports, can you hand them over and show yourself out." Eric divulges himself back into the stacks of paper and bites the inside of his cheek obsessively. He really wasn't in the mood for Max's rundown of Amity weddings. It only seemed to solidify something in his chest further thinking about it. Right now, the distraction was paperwork and nothing else. He peers up briefly, not moving his head from the hovering position and catches Max's tense expression.

Max nods, three times, very slowly, while all the while narrowing his eyes. "I just came to a conclusion, Eric. I know you very well. And right now, you are furthest to anything but feral. You're pissed she's getting mar-" He doesn't get to finish before Eric pushes himself up from his desk haughtily, cluttering his pen pot from the force and the computer screen wobbles slackly from the jolt.

One hand is at his mouth while his free arm crosses itself instinctively over his body. All is heard is his sharp, annoyed exhales of breath while he tries to control the inner urge to hurl obscenities. "Get out, Max. If you know what's good for you…" He rounds the desk to the window and opens the blinds to the concrete jungle below him.

He couldn't fathom why, after so many deliveries and so many times Amity had been mentioned, that for some reason yesterday she clams up his mind and appears in the same day. He didn't really believe in fate, but that was close to it.

When he first joined Dauntless, and throughout his initiation, he'd cut his losses and swept Abbey into a small box stacked into the back of his head with an iron padlock. He had moments where he would fleetingly slither back upon a recollection, but never in so much detail. When he was conscious of himself undertaking it, he would snap himself back to reality without any qualms in doing so.

Yesterday - he'd let himself wander too far, reaching the furthest, blackest part of his mind that he knew he shouldn't have divulged himself to. But it was too late. The feelings he'd tried to push away, his humanity, his heart; had painstakingly resurfaced and it hurt. The very things he'd denied himself for three years had come stampeding back into his fucked up array of emotions, and he knew for certain that it didn't mix very well.

But he also knew for certain that he had to have her, and nothing else would do…

Max clears his throat, still unmoving from the plastic covered chair and leans back on an audible breath. "I can help, you know. If you'd just ask." The tone he uses is legitimately sincere and rumbles deeply within his throat from the sense of meaning he tried to shift behind it.

Eric just glances at him, regarding him with high suspicion. But anything right now would help with the tangled web of his brain. "What are you talking about? What's in it for you?" He snaps his head back to the view outside, not willing to show the small inkling of embarrassment that had begun to bristle through the base of his back. Weakness wasn't an option in front of another senior member of Dauntless, and especially not someone who he worked alongside in the runnings with Jeanine.

"Well, to put it quite simply, I know how you're feeling right now."

"You have no idea how I'm feeling. Don't try to patronize me."

"Give it rest, Eric. I've known you for far too long to be put-off by your blasé attitude. You haven't been right since yesterday with that little Amity who showed her face – for once you're actually working on your paperwork, you fucking hate paperwork!" Max kisses his teeth and shakes his head with utter annoyance.

"You know what I hate more, people getting in on my business."

Max stands, irrationally perplexed and closes the few steps Eric's created between them. He speaks to the back of his head, as he still hasn't bothered to face him. "Whatever, but I'm sorting a few arrangements and checks with Amity. I was going to send Lauren, but, if there was someone far more suitable for my job, then I'd like to know now…"

The silence in the room is deadly. Max leaves his words to linger, still hovering himself, waiting for any bodily cue that Eric has for once let the words sink in and forced himself to actually listen to the underlying reason that he's mentioned it.

Eric turns, dodging eye contact and tracing an invisible line on the floor. "How long?"

"I can process the arrangements today. They will believe it's any other dutiful visit. And…and I can place you there for as long as we need… I mean, you can work back and forth, but it's a free unquestionable pass for your movements."

Meeting Max's hopeful eye, he debates internally for a while. But he'd already, besottedly, made his mind up yesterday after the small run-in. He was just too god damn stubborn to bring himself to openly admit it so eagerly. "Okay."

"Okay you are going, or just okay…"

"I'm going. But I don't want to hear any more of it." As much as the words were cold, he could actually feel the electric white buzz of excitement for once. "This stays between me and you."

"Like I said, I know what it feels like, and I wish someone had given me the opportunity."

Sighing, he felt like he really should ask seeing as Max had relatively gone out of his way. "What are you talking about?"

"I lost someone close to me through my pride and it's too late for me now to go back and change that." Max turns to leave, causing Eric to wonder if he's temporarily covering his sorrow for his random exit. "Just don't fuck it up. Do the job, as well as your own…" The door doesn't slam like he anticipated, just gently clicks.

Eric stares after him for a little while longer. Quite simply thinking about what the actual fuck he was doing.


One truck rolls up, kicking dirt and grass into the thick humid air surrounding Amity while Johanna gazes out to the devilish approach surrounded by her peers. Her face drops a little when her least favorite person appears from the cab and hops down to a stiff stance just feet from her position.

The dust from the tires drifts through the air and solidifies the sheer and also bleak annoyance that she tries to stifle through her painted smile. "Eric, Amity welcomes you."

"And so they should, Johanna." He smirks at the uncomfortable pose and shifting stares from her right-hand men standing around her.

Eric remembers one of the guys to her left as a man he'd met briefly while counseling the Amity deliveries for Dauntless. The guy was a fake ass rat and pretended that his fear didn't run deep when faced with the reputable members of Dauntless. "Mark," he greets him, just as stand-offish as his sharp incline of a nod he receives back.

Johanna shares a look between the two and stands forwards a little more. "I'm glad you two know of each other, saves for the introductions that I know you so characteristically hate, Eric."

"You cater for me so well, Johanna. Extremely thoughtful." He motions towards her office "Shall we?" and she extends an arm reverently. He doesn't wait for her and simple strides towards the barns doors and covers the entwining steps in a matter of seconds.

The thought of Johanna's office is abysmal, and he can't understand how someone habituates in such a horse-shit, fly-covered, hot box that she seemed to redeem as a place worthy enough to be called an office. He lets his lack of fondness show predominantly on his face while he scans the room, finally settling on her sweaty, unfit form as she plonks herself behind her desk.

"Max has ordered a routine check, I see." The annoying woman gasps out between labored breaths.

"Yes, that, and to check with the small team we have that resides here. There has been no problem with the factionless I hope?" But his tone is bored and he still eyes the room disinterestedly instead of politely acknowledging her.

"None at all. Dauntless have treated us very kindly." She peers up to Mark having finally made the stairs and he walks passed him, taking his bitch-like place next to Johanna.

"Careful, Johanna. I think somebodies looking for a promotion." Eric leans forwards on the desk and raises an eyebrow to the man who seems to give him a frown of displeasure. He knew he didn't really like him and he wasn't going to sugar coat it and pretend he didn't notice it so obviously. "I'm only joking, buddy. Didn't mean to offend."

"So, how many days are you staying Eric?" Mark graces him with a fake smile. The voice is mocking, but he also doesn't care.

"I haven't quite decided. Been a while since I've been to Amity. Was going to take my time, you know. Take some of the old scenic views and fresh air in…" Eric lands himself in the chair opposite her desk and flicks at a piece of straw towards Mark. "I hope that's not a problem."

"Of course not. Everybody is welcome."

Fucking hippies.

The chair legs scrape on the floor as he pushes himself back and up again, swirling with absolute arrogance. But to be fair, he was eager to run a report on the Amity systems and check Abbey's status. "I gather you've received Max's email, so I presume there is nothing else to discuss?"

Johanna purses her lips, throwing a draw open on her desk hurriedly as she gets the notion he's about to leave. "Keys. Unless you want to sleep in your truck?"

"How kind of you."

Johanna and Mark watch Eric's head disappear from the steps and Mark throws a look down to her. "Seriously, him?"

"We don't question, we don't provoke. Everybody is welcome at Amity, especially Dauntless. We need their protection."

"I understand but he never-" She throws her hand up to silence him before removing herself and taking the steps. "-he never comes to Amity…" Mark says quietly to himself.


Having spent time batting the cob-webs and disposing of the sickening flowers that sat too freshly in a vase in his room. Eric felt two percent happier being in his small wooden hovel with the camp bed and small desk, quietly enclosed to the bright colors and nerve-popping Amity folk. If he got one more well-wish he was about to snap somebodies neck and laugh insanely while doing it.

But right now, it was quiet. He was far away from everything Amity and Dauntless and completely lost in a computer search on his electronic pad. He'd easily hacked the Amity database and could read Johanna's emails if he really wanted to - there was no time for that, as interesting as the idea sounded.

In his mind, he was thinking of the thousand ways he could 'accidentally' find Abbey. And when he did, what exactly would he do… Apologize? Say he'll go to the wedding to start a conversation? Ask her to walk with him for a while? A drink?

Fuck.

He wasn't sure how Amity folk sufficed with stuff like that and whether she would just tell him to fuck off after what he'd said. He was an asshole, much more so now than he ever used to be. But to get Abbey back he was going to have to work on it, play a piece of the dead-and-burnt charm he once had, piece it back together and form something extraordinarily old-school that she would wake up and smell the horse-shit to exactly what she was about to do.

Just as the boxes of numbers, names and locations begin burning into the back of his irises, Abbey Ainsworth appears.

Eric actually laughs to himself. At first just a quick snort and exhale, then audibly. Of course, what else would Abbey be doing – Floristry – just like the shitty white roses he threw out the moment he stepped foot inside. He hated flowers, they reminded him of her… their first kiss… No, now was not the time.

Eric's disturbed by a loud knocking on the door.

He's only just aware of his tranquilized state, the loose legs under the desk, the arm bent at the elbow towards the electronic pad sitting upright in front of him. He'd ultimately lost his ferocious attitude, because of her… again.

The door knocks another time, and Eric comes to the conclusion that knocking is one of the most meticulous aggravations on this earth. "Fucking wait you impatient dick."

"I hope you don't kiss your mother with that mouth."

Eric crosses the screen out and turns the pad off quickly. Standing rigidly, a clammy feeling begins to rise.

It was her. She was here. Of course, she was here…

Taking a deep breath, he opens the door, leaning on the frame with a side-smirk on his face while he crosses his arms… A complete picture of composure; a little something he'd trained himself to do even on his worst days.

Abbey smiles up at him, even if he's leaning overconfidently towards her in the doorway. And even though she doesn't waver in her stare, he can't help but roam over her white summer dress and small straps running across her shoulders, really noticeably in front of her.

"Abbey…" He says, rather hypnotically, and he practically prickles in joy as she blushes somewhat. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you same! Why didn't you say you were coming?" She rubs a hand on her forearm nervously while double checking her surroundings – or maybe distracting herself, he was unsure.

Eric shrugs, walking away from the door casually, leaving her at her will at whether she would enter or not. It was great that he didn't have to go searching for her after all, she willingly turned up at his door. Did he expect it or not? … Now that was the question.

"I'm a busy man, Abbey."

"Eric… why are my flowers out by the door?"

Shit.

"They stank…" Double shit. Why does he have to be such an ass? "They made me sneeze." Now he sounds fucking pathetic.

"You're not allergic to flowers! Christ sake. …Did they offend your masculinity?"

He sits back at the small desk, leaving his legs wide but keeping his composure, even if his thoughts were a mess. Instead of answering, he deciphers to avoid. "Fuck the flowers. How'd you know I was here?"

"Word gets around quick…" Her voice is almost lost as she scours the room and sheepishly places her small frame onto the bed opposite him. "Plus, there is only one Eric I know."

"Should've guessed." He places an arm over the back of the chair as he talks. "Let's go for the question why you are here?"

"We used to be friends, Eric. And I still feel that we are, no matter what's changed over the years."

"Does your fiancée know you're here?

She shifts uncomfortably. "No." A wry smile forms on her face. "But what he doesn't know, doesn't hurt him." At least she hadn't lost her sense of adventure.

"Does he know about us?"

"About us? You say as if there's some hidden secret between us."

"Does he know we're friends?" He rolls his eyes, still impatient as ever for swings and roundabout ways of talking.

"Are we friends?"

"We can be if you want to be?" Eric smiles at her and she blinks a few times from his husky voice. Her hand finds her knee and he can see the knuckles whitening as she grips onto it for some type of support.

Fuck it.

Eric stands and then proceeds to sit intimately close to her on the bed, their thighs touching, and he can feel her heat and frigid stance that forms from the movement.

"…I …I …." She stands abruptly, but he grips her wrist and pulls her back to him. "I shouldn't have come here." As she talks he stands, they're almost chest to chest and she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

"You damn well should've. Who's stopping you?"

"Nobody… it's just… if someone sees…" She bites her lip and Eric resists the urge to kiss it, his fingers digging further into her wrist in distraction.

"You're not pissed off with me?" He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and she avoids his gaze, roaming down his chest or elsewhere that seemed enough to bestow some other form of thoughts in her jumping mind. Her hands brush up his chest and lay palm-side against him, small and familiar. The spark is still crucially there, begging to reignite.

"No, I know you too well…" She peers between each of his gray eyes, then briefly to his lips in the close proximity. "…to take anything you say…" She barely flinches as he snakes a hand to her hips, then on the small of her back as she tries to lean away in some form of defiance that he practically wanted to laugh at. "…offensively."

"Good," Eric says cockily, moments away from her mouth, and her lips part, whether in anticipation or not he couldn't tell. He snaps his head back. "You got flowers to pick, hippy? Or are you just going to stand around here all day?" He smiles in his win.

Abbey's hands push at his chest and she releases his grip, tripping over her own feet as she takes a step away. "Er… yeah…" She catches herself, standing straight and inhales deeply. "I have lots to do… Yeah, loads, actually…"

"Yeah looks it…"

"Goodbye Eric. I hope you enjoy your stay at Amity."

"Mmm-hmm." Eric still smirks unabashed of any actions he's made towards her. She walks backward, not willing to turn her back on him in some sort of prey instinct and he leans one hand up against the door as she witheringly steps out and onto the dirt path, eyes still glued on him.

He guffaws when she trips further up the track, throwing him one more look and he shakes his head in amusement when she disappears.

Poor Abbey.

Not just the old boy she remembered, but a testosterone filled man with power easily at his fingertips. She'll be back.

This won't take long…


A/N

Thanks for reading.

Hope you enjoyed it!