A/N: ahhh, start of conflict...finally...

"Miss Lewly?"

Charlotte and Winnifred shared a lost look. Winnifred looked back at Mr. Cornsquash (technically Mr. Cornlash), Mr. Bayern's representative, or rather the unofficial boss for the low workers.

"Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Bayern wants you in his office. If you can, please." Of course Winnifred couldn't, she was too surprised to do so. Nonetheless, she kept her eyebrows from rising up her forehead and silently followed Squahscorn outside. Winnifred had no idea why Bayern was summoning her. Hopefully for a raise. Her companion left her in front of the office. Winnifred shot him an annoyed look and walked inside, knocking at the door already when she was almost inside.

"Mr. Bayern, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Miss Lewly." Bayern returned back to his paperwork. Winnifred uncomfortably shifted from foot to foot. The bald man at the desk didn't offer her a seat, so she dared not bend over the already small privileges she had.

"Sir..." she meekly started.

"Yes, yes, Miss Lewly," Bayern roughly cut her off. "Sit down please, don't just stand there like a lamppost." Winnifred hated the comparison, but from the other hand, lampposts are very bright. Quickly plopping into the offered chair, she folded her hands on her lap. After a ten minute silence, Bayern spoke up, neatly sliding his paper over and looking at the victim in front of him.

"So, Miss Lewly," he paused. Winnifred nervously pressed her lips and looked down.

"We need to donate a few of a workers." Winnifred blinked.

"For...community service?" Bayern was kind enough to crack a sympathetic smile.

"No. A company more superior to us," Bayern unnoticeably grimaced, "asked us for some of our accountants."

"What...company?" Winnifred frowned. "I thought we're the only accountant business in town."

"The company's new," her employer sighed. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Winnifred raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. They're led by our former local, Jack Browning Jr. You should remember him, he's about your age."

Of course. Winnifred felt that someone scooped all emotions out of her and dumped them into the trash truck.

"Quite far for a young man," was all she could say. "Am I one of those community service?"

"Yes, you and Miss...uh..."

"Charlotte Hutchinson?" Winnifred tiredly helped.

"Yes, that girl which works with you and a few other fellas around your offices."

"Alright, I'll inform them. When are we to...move?"

"Wednesday morning. Have a good day."

"Have a good day, sir."

The shut of the door echoed in Winnifred's ears as she closed it. Bitch. Son of a bitch.

Southwest to the mill and east of the railroad tracks was a lake, slowly evolving into a swamp. It had a wooden half-bridge kind of structure, extending not even into one fourth of the water. Johnathan grimaced and looked up, shaking his wrist back and forth to ease the fatigue inside it. The trees soaked in vivid greenness adorned the lake. Bushels of eels slowly rose up to the threaded, slightly rippling surface. Johnathan heard Heath whistle behind him. It was an edged, ragged, at times flowy tune, intermixed with water splashes from the Heath's legs. Johnathan sighed and returned back to his dissertation paper. He was two thirds done, then the rest of his summer would be spent in presentations.

"You know we dragged you out of you burrow not to work again, right?"

Johnathan smirked.

"Yes, I am aware," he answered, slightly indenting and starting a new paragraph. Heath snorted and tilted his head to the side, not looking at Johnathan.

"And where's the progress, man?"

"I'm almost done Heath. Bear another month or two, and it'll be over."

"And you'll go to Gotham to find a use for your knowledge," Heath sarcastically snorted. Johnathan lowered down his pen in his paper in annoyance.

"I find that comment hypocritical, considering that you managed to do the same exact thing before me," He acidly noticed, turning around and staring at him. The muscles below the shoulder blades abruptly tightened.

"What?" Heath's immediately reacted, stooping his shoulders even more. Johnathan turned back around and resumed his writing.

"Heath, I am not an idiot."

"Really?" Johnathan slammed his pencil back again. Heath instantly fixed his mistake, escaping from his mouth as a form of defense.

"I mean...sorry, I know you're not an idiot, otherwise you'll be in jail right now, it's just that..." Heath was silent for a moment. "I thought I was careful."

"You were. It's just that I'm a relatively free psychologist, without any sick sisters to attend or vacations to leave."

"So you're implying that Freddie didn't notice?" Heath specified, brokenly writhing his fingers.

"As I said, I'm a psychologist. No, Freddie didn't notice."

Heath pressed his lips, thinking something to himself. He slightly shook his legs to get rid of apathy.

Winnifred walked down to the lake, clenching her portfolio and grimly looking forward. She stopped at the edge of the bridge. Johnathan was sitting on the right side, Heath was on the left. Their back were facing each other. A free side which faced the open lake stared at Winnifred. Winnifred slightly smirked and, taking off her heels, walked down the wooden planks and sat in the middle of her two friends.

"I've been promoted," she sighed, kicking the lily pad away with her toe.

"Where?" Heath asked without a lot of curiosity. Winnifred slightly creased her lips in a grimace.

"Browning's bank." Heath frowned.

"What kind of promotion is that?" He bitterly inquired. Winnifred pulled in her legs below the dock at the the irritation in his voice. Johnathan simply raised his eye brows, never stopping from his writing.

"Do you think it was intentional?" He asked matter of factly.

"What?" Winnifred propped herself up with her arms, her face clouded in confusion.

"You know," Johnathan pushed the glasses up on his nose with the tip of his pencil.

"The list of recruits had your name on it from the very beginning."

"Oh. Damn." Winnifred lowered down on the plank, glancing at Heath. He was sitting strictly against the sun, causing his profile to darken almost like a silhouette. Winnifred sighed and shifted her gaze on the sky. It was clear blue, veiled in an unseen gauze of summer. It seemed surreal. Winnifred grimaced and sat back up.

"You guys are no help," she threw on the way, loudly lifting her legs out from the water and walking back into the forest. Johnathan sighed and passed his hand over his face. He glanced over his shoulder. Heath's shoulders were stooped even more than ever.

Dear Freddie,

Don't think that I don't mind. I fucking do. God dammit Winnifred, why did you have to go to Maine?

You know what I was thinking there on the deck? I was wondering if our lovely Jack friend remembers how I lit his house on fire.

Before you start your objections, don't forget that he bloody threw me under the car. And also, there was no one in the house except him. His dad has enough bucks to recreate their cottage anyway. No frets.

God, this is so fucking funny. Of course you were promoted intentionally. How else? Jack is you know schemer if that's how you call these sort of people. You're part of whatever he calculates in his wooden office. I don't like schemers. Too punctual. That's why I'm not a schemer.

Tomorrow is your first day. Don't lose yourself. I'll time you.

I'm sorry. I honestly don't know what's gotten in me.

Don't read this letter. It's shit.

Dearest regards,

Heath