The sunshine hits her face. It's beating down so brightly and strong on her skin so penetrating and hot that she fears if they're outside any longer she's going to get a sunburn. Jay chose to go jogging and Erin for some ungodly reason decided to join him despite the increase in temperature. It's over ninety-one degrees outside, -Fahrenheit- and there is hardly any type of breeze, just thick humidity surrounding her and frizzing up her ponytail. Erin takes a break, coming to an abrupt stop to hunch over with her hands on her knees in an effort to catch her breath. She feels drops of sweat that gathered on her forehead start to drip down the side of her face, past her temple, along her cheek and jawline before dropping to the ground. She leans against the nearest tree, gasping for breath and cursing herself for even thinking she could keep up.
Erin continues to stare down at the ground when she notices his running shoes obstruct her view of the paved pathway. She looks up, squinting because the sun is just so damn bright, to find him looking at her with concern coloring his features. He doesn't look affected at all. He was jogging faster than her and he's nowhere near out of breath. The sweat glistening his chest is due to heat and not exertion. How? Fucking, how is he not about to pass out like she is?
"Are you okay?"
She takes a moment to catch her breath before pushing out, "No. Not even close."
"I told you to focus on your breathing when you're running."
"It's hard to do that when my calves are burning."
"Check your form, control your breathing and pace yourself."
She throws her head back, the bark of the tree pressing against her skull. Her chest rises up and down so rapidly that she finds herself nowhere near close to catching her breath, "You make it sound so easy," her cheeks are red based on exertion, her whole face is flushed and her mouth is starting to get dry, "Shit, how can I be in shape and out of shape at the same time?"
He smirks, obviously entertained by her dramatics, "Run at a conversational pace, Erin. It'll be a good test for you. If you can talk in complete sentences, not just one-word responses then you're keeping a good moderate pace, if you're running out of breath and can't complete a full sentence without a gasp then you need to slow down and take a moment to walk. Build up your endurance and when you catch your breath, start again at a more manageable pace."
"I swear my legs feel like noodles," she groans. She's going to be sore tomorrow.
"That's good," he applauds, patting her shoulder, "but the trouble you're having is your breathing, you need to breathe from your stomach and not your chest."
"Who would have thought I needed a lesson focused solely on breathing?"
"Come on," he nudges her side and nods towards the way they just came, "we'll cut the jog short for today and head back. We'll try again tomorrow."
"We're going to walk back, right?"
"Nice try, we'll do a mild jog." He begins to jog in place, encouraging her to join in and when she starts to match his pace, the two of them begin heading back towards the cabin.
Erin reminds herself of his tips on jogging, remembering that she's supposed to keep a conversational pace and when she looks over at him, noticing the raise of his brow, she voices a question that serves to not only kickstart the conversation but touches a subject she actually wants an answer to, "So, what are we doing today?" She gets out despite the need to catch her breath. She's doing a pretty good job if anyone were to ask her.
"The same thing we're most likely doing tomorrow, nothing." He doesn't even have to prepare to give his response. He just gave it without needing to catch his breath before or after.
She stops running, her chest heaving up and down, "You're joking, right?"
"The price you pay for witnessing a murder." He turns and begins to run a slower jog backwards, the smirk on his face denoting the humor he meant behind his comment.
Erin doesn't get it. She doesn't know if she's being sensitive or because she's personally impacted by what happened, and her sense of humor has taken a hit, but she doesn't find anything funny about his response, "you say that like I went out of my way to witness it. You say that like I wanted to see that or I wanted that to happen."
She's right. Jay realizes that. She's right. He stops jogging and his shoulders drop. The cabin is half a mile away from their current position, they still have a walk ahead of them, but as he so eloquently reminded her seconds ago, they have nothing to do, so it's no point in rushing. He walks over to her, taking a stand in front of her crouched position and asks, "Have I ever told you about why I decided to go into federal law enforcement?" She doesn't give a verbal answer but the shake of her head is answer enough for him, "I'm pretty much alone in the world. You can say life has hardened me and the job hardened me even more so when I made that senseless comment about what you witnessed it came from a place that years of being in the FBI has put me in. I'm a workaholic which makes it a little hard for me to see where you're coming from when you ask every day for us to do something outside of the cabin. If it's not work related or if it doesn't benefit me professionally, like working out and eating healthy, then I don't see the point of it," he tucks his hands into the pockets of his gym shorts, "After my mom died, my dad and I basically went our separate ways, it was hard for him to look at me because of the resemblance I had to my mom, it just hurt him so much and he just became this totally different person that found comfort in the bottom of a liquor bottle. My brother didn't want me joining such a dangerous profession especially after losing our mom and when I was adamant on joining, he put some distance between us, said it was to protect himself if I were to die in the line of duty one day. He's just as emotionally fucked up as I am, but that separation didn't deter me from joining law enforcement. I thought about joining for a while but I was leaning towards state police rather than federal and then the Yates case happened," she recalls the name of that serial killer; he was the topic of the news from the day he was caught to the day he was convicted to when he escaped, all the way up until his death, "how he crossed state borders and local police had trouble capturing him and I just," he pauses for a moment and chooses not to finish that statement, "he killed a lot of nurses and my mom's best friend was a nurse and she became one of his victims. I knew her since I was a kid. She was like a second mom to me and after my mom died, she looked out for me and Will and he killed her after he broke out of prison, after he came all the way back to Chicago from New York. He shouldn't have made it that far undetected. She would still be alive if he didn't flee the state."
Erin, after finally catching her breath, moved to approach him, reaching for his hand to offer him the best type of comfort she could provide in this moment. For someone to be hardened by his personal and professional life, she can see the touches of vulnerability lying dormant in his irises. She interlocked her fingers with his and he took strength and comfort from her touch to finish, "I made the choice to be federal police. Obviously. I joined the FBI, never looked back and never once regretted my decision. I've been on case after case, becoming desensitized the more of myself I've invested into a case. I admit when I was assigned this case, it was just another case to me and I figured once this case wraps up, I'll just be assigned a new one. It's endless. It doesn't stop. The job can be dangerous, my work schedule can be pretty irregular, traveling can be inconvenient and work sometimes follows me home but to keep people safe, people like my mom's best friend, people like you, makes it all worth it. At some point I stopped seeing the victims behind the case, and started seeing the cases as the file numbers attached to it and that's something I never wanted to do. That's not why I got into this. And I shouldn't have made that comment. That's not me."
"I know," and she does, she truly does know he meant no harm in his response, "I get it," she says in an effort to lighten the intense mood surrounding them, "and I didn't intend to snap at you, I think considering we've been camped out in a cabin for over a week and just now had a minor spat is pretty impressive. It was bound to happen but I appreciate you for recognizing how your comment came across, whether that was your intention or not."
They're grown-ups. They're adults. Communication should be a staple in relationship building and maintenance. Jay throws his sweaty arm around her shoulder and the two of them walk the rest of the way back to the cabin. No further words are shared between them, both choosing to go their separate ways the second the screen door closes behind them. Erin goes to the fridge to gulp down a bottle of water and Jay goes to shower. Then Erin goes to shower while Jay gets dressed and checks his work email, smiling at the subject line of his newest message. By the time she's out of the shower and dressed, he's in the kitchen and the aroma of whatever he's preparing for dinner is filling the entire cabin. It's comforting like a home cooked meal.
"Something smells really good," her feet are warm and snugged in her fluffy socks as she walks further into the kitchen to take a peek at what he's preparing, "roasted chicken," she grins.
"…and mashed potatoes and asparagus," he rises from the stool he was sitting on and walks around the kitchen island to check on the boiling potatoes, "I also have good news for you."
Dinner will take a while to be finished so she goes to cut herself a small slice of cake to hold herself over until everything is prepared. She doesn't bother with a saucer, instead choosing to hold the small slice in the palm of her hand and break it off with the tips of her fingers. She has a piece of cake hanging over her mouth about to be dropped in when he teases good news. And she nearly drops the cake out of her hand when he actually shares it, ""I have the approval list," he takes a moment to baste the chicken and once he finishes, he turns to face her stunned expression, "I will admit, I'm shocked by some of the activities they've agreed to and I'm also surprised by some of the ones they rejected. Want to read it yourself?"
"No," she finishes off the rest of her slice, "You can do it."
The two of them take a seat at the dining room table after Jay sets a timer to remind himself of the next time he needs to baste the chicken. He has the email pulled up on his work issued device and begins announcing the approved activities, -going out dancing, swimming, karaoke, going out to eat, painting, stargazing, going on a picnic, horseback riding, binge watching tv series which means they'll have access to streaming devices, indoor trampoline park, going to a hot spring, doing a llama trek, hiking, mini golfing, sightseeing, manicures and pedicures, bowling, skating, watching the sunrise and set, getting a tattoo and going for a scenic drive. Each approved activity listed an address under which the activity is approved to be done at and if that location isn't a place she wants to do it, then that activity will join the unapproved list. Even the scenic drive has a map outline included of the route they are expected to take. Nothing will be left up to chance. The place she wanted to go to for the picnic has a spot circled for them, the hike in one of the national forests has a specified time, date and trail for them, same with the llama trek and the watching of the sunset and sunrise encourages for them to do it in the area surrounding the house, despite the fact that there are hardly ever any stars outside to see above from their cabin.
Most of the exciting activities like hot air balloon riding, canoeing, going to an art gallery, visiting a comedy club, going to a water park and visiting a ghost town were all unsurprisingly unapproved.
"Their explanation is the nearest location for each of these activities are too far."
She had a feeling but it didn't hurt to ask. Montana is a pretty big state, as she knows from Jay's fun fact lesson, it ranks number four in size out of all the fifty states. As Jay warned her, staying at a dude ranch and camping were off limits for the rule he had mentioned earlier in their stay.
"Why didn't indoor skydiving or indoor rock climbing get approved?"
"They are hot tourist traps; they don't want to take the chance of someone seeing you."
Erin rolls her eyes on that because Montana isn't a big tourist destination. Most people traveling tend to go to states like Cali, Florida, New York or Texas, maybe even cities like Las Vegas, Chicago or DC but Montana tended to fall low on the list of tourist destinations. She knew it was no point in arguing that because he didn't make the decision. He was just the messenger.
"…and what about bike riding?"
"We'd have to rent bikes. The nearest shop is two hours away."
"…and off roading? How come that didn't make it? It can be done anywhere and it doesn't require a crowd. Why was that one ruled out?"
"It poses a safety risk. If you get hurt, that causes more problems, it's easier to say no."
Regardless of the many that were unapproved, Erin found herself still excited about those activities that did get approved. She knew none of them would be accomplished today. It was no spontaneity under the government's watch. They'd have to let them know at least 24 hours in advance every single time they leave the federal property. The similarities between this and prison do not go unnoticed by either one of them. Erin eventually goes to work on the puzzle while Jay gets up to check the food when the timer goes off. She's seated on the floor in her usual position, looking down at what they have already accomplished. It wasn't much but day by day, they'll add to it.
"You find another pair?" He calls out, draining the potatoes. He grabs a peeler and stations himself to start peeling each potato before placing them on the cutting board.
"No," she tries to fit a puzzle piece to a piece she connected yesterday; it didn't fit, "What if we did this whole puzzle and found out we were missing one piece and couldn't finish it?"
"Don't even play like that."
She laughs. And as he prepares the mashed potatoes, peeling, cutting and them mashing them into a bowl, adding ingredients to make them as fluffy and tasty as possible, including butter. A lot of butter. Eventually the sides are done but the chicken is the hold up. After basting the bird again, he sets another timer and then comes over to take a seat next to her, joining her on the floor and mimicking the positions they were in the day they started the puzzle.
"What'd you manage to do?"
"Nothing," she admits, "absolutely nothing. I think this piece," she holds it up, "looks like it goes here," she points to another piece that's already connected to two other pieces, "but it doesn't fit."
"…then it doesn't go there," he laughs.
"I know that smartass," she nudges his shoulder. He laughs even harder, especially when she reaches for another puzzle piece and tries to make it fit despite the obvious sign that it doesn't belong, "Don't even think about saying it."
"I wasn't going to say anything," he laughs when she puts both pieces back down.
Jay reaches for the nearest piece to him and scans the endless supply of puzzle pieces looking for a fit. Erin does the same with the newest piece she's picked up. Neither of them speaks, choosing to welcome the silence and use it to allow them to focus harder. Talking requires focus and that focus needs to be on finding a match. Listening requires even more focus that needs to be utilized in at least finding a few connections before they grow tired of trying for today. Time has passed and it's when the timer to the oven goes off that both of them decide to call it a day when it comes to the puzzle. They'll have plenty of time to finish this and Erin, never one for turning down a challenge, has decided that before she leaves Montana, she's going to finish this puzzle.
Halstead reaches for the oven-mitts and his biceps flex when he lifts the chicken from the oven. It's going to be lunch and dinner for a couple of days. It's a lot of food for two people, but knowing the creative talents of Jay Halstead in the kitchen, he'll end up turning leftover roasted chicken into different meals the next couple of days. As if reading her mind, he speaks, "the next couple of days we can spend more time on the puzzle and less time on cooking since we can take this leftover chicken and make some shortcut dinners. I'm already thinking chicken noodle soup one night, another night we can have a chicken Caesar salad and then one day I can whip up my mom's signature chicken and dumplings recipe. Once you have it, you'll be begging me to make it every night. I promise you that, Erin. You haven't had them right unless you've tried my mom's recipe."
"I'm looking forward to it."
He kindly makes both of their plates for them while she pours them something to drink. She takes her plate and whispers her appreciation before walking outside. He doesn't even hesitate to join her. The two of them balancing their plates on their laps as they take a seat on the porch swing.
"What made you want to eat dinner out here?"
"It looks like it's about to storm," she admits, staring forward at the cloudy skin; the temperature has dropped by a few degrees and the wind that starts to pick up lets him know she's right, "we seem to have some of the best conversations on stormy nights."
He stabs his asparagus with his fork, "It's only been one stormy night since we've been here and we've only had one conversation during it."
"…which means the record is pretty flawless. The odds are in our favor."
Whatever thought or topic of conversation that he supposed she wanted to discuss was put to the side in favor of eating. She ate quietly and so did he; the only sound surrounding them are the low rumbles of thunder that's warning them of the storm approaching. With how hot the days have been, it should be no surprise of the stormy weather that tends to follow them. It's only when the sky opens up and a torrential downpour begins cooling off the humid air and flooding the ground that Erin voices whatever was on her mind, "I wanted to say this earlier…after you made that comment about what I witnessed," she pauses and he gives her the space and the moment to gather herself and her thoughts. A part of him expected the conversation to continue, it felt abruptly cut off by her need to offer him some comfort and both of their needs to get inside the cabin where central air conditioning pumps through the vents. She takes the last bite of mashed potatoes before setting her now empty plate down on the small end table positioned next to the rocking chair.
"You told me a day after we got here, I could talk to you about what happened," and he eagerly nods because he meant that, "I couldn't wait to get home that night. I was going to sleep the weekend away. I never in a million years thought my night would end like that," her whispered words are so low and his empty plate soon joins hers on the table, "I never would have thought I'd see someone die. I tried to signal for him to be quiet but he was too scared. He started begging for his life, he was promising that he wouldn't say anything but they still killed him," she swallowed roughly and looked up at the gray skies, "I couldn't help any of them. They would have killed me too. All I could do was hide and watch. I just hid and watched."
"You did what you had to do to keep yourself safe and alive."
"I know that," she pauses and reconsiders her words, "at least my brain does, but a large part of me feels like I could have done more. I should have done more. Instead, I hid and watched."
"Erin-"
She cuts him off, "I have a walking target on my back."
"I meant it when I said I would protect you."
"…and who will protect you?"
"I don't need protecting," he doesn't say it to sound braggadocious or because he thinks highly of himself and his capabilities, he says it because it's the truth, his truth, "I'm good at surviving."
"Jay-"
This time it's him cutting her off, "I'm kicking myself for what I said earlier. I shouldn't have said that," she opens her mouth to reassure him that it's okay, but it isn't, "even if I was joking, it's not okay. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm not leaving you alone. You're stuck with me. Unfortunately for you, I'm not the best of company."
She smiles at that. And if it means she'll keep smiling, he doesn't mind making self-deprecating comments. Another silence falls over them, both staring at the wind picking up and the fragrance of her shampoo starts to fill his nostrils as the wind blows her hair in his direction. He assumes the conversation is over, that it's past but the smile that was once on her face is now gone.
"I'm so appreciative of you sending them that list. I know it's more work for you to do when it comes to us leaving the cabin. I'm really thankful." He senses a but coming and while that conjunction wasn't said, she does follow up her last response with a clause contrasting what she already said, "If I'm being honest," Erin rests her hands flat on her lap, "I feel alone and the solitude is beginning to drive me crazy. I need a shift in the routine, something different, honestly, I'm not picky about what it is either, just something different. I know we have to give them a tentative schedule of what we plan to do on what day and we can't start expecting to go out at least until next week but the fact that I'm an adult, I've done nothing wrong but I have to get permission to do anything outside of here is a really hard pill to swallow. I'm trying to adapt, it's just hard."
"I'm sorry you had to be mixed up in all of this," Jay slightly turns to face her; his knee bumping and brushing against hers, "I hope time flies by, I know you can't wait to get up out of here." It's not much but it's the best he has to offer right now.
And she knows that and appreciates it. Erin pats his knee and whispers, "Thanks Jay," she rises back to her feet, "for listening," and says nothing else before grabbing their empty plates and going back inside the cabin.
Halstead remains seated, attention drawn down to the knee where her hand was moments ago. He does feel bad for her. He can't imagine how this feels for her. He's signed up for this, but she didn't. He got into law enforcement to take criminals down by choice, she was swept away into hiding to aid them in bringing down bad guys by force. Technically. Even though she had a decision to stay behind, it wasn't much of a decision if it meant staying home would guarantee her death. He continues watching the storm. It doesn't look like it'll let up anytime soon when he finds himself wanting to do something nice for her, something that'll uplift her mood even for a moment.
He rushes back into the cabin when the thought comes to mind, locking the screen door behind him to ensure the wind didn't blow it open before locking the front, wooden door afterwards. The dishes are washed and when he realizes she's done that as well, despite the fact that he's cooked, she didn't have to do it, it makes him want to do something nice for her even more. He goes to his room, draws up his secured line, makes deals, guarantees, reassurances and promises before the one favor he asked for is granted. This won't be a frequent occurrence. It can't become a pattern or a habit and he promised his boss that it won't before he's given a temporary outgoing number that'll pop up on the phone of the man he's calling. And once the call is answered, he leaves the room, rushes down the hall and then gently tapped his knuckle against her closed door, once, twice and then a third time before she calls for him to come in.
With his work phone in hand, he extends it out to her and with hesitation and confusion, she reaches out and takes it. She doesn't recognize the number on the screen. It's longer than any American phone number that she's seen which lets her know that either this is an international number or a coded number for a call through a secure and classified line. She doesn't fully understand what's happening and why Jay is smiling until she places the phone against her ear and whispers, "Hello?"
"Hey kid," she hears the familiar gruff voice of her father and the feeling that swarms throughout her body is indescribable. There's nothing anyone can say or do to take the smile off her face right now.
Jay grins, mentally patting himself on the back for a job well done and then takes careful steps backwards out of the room, leaving the door cracked before heading off to the kitchen to help himself to a slice of cake for dessert.