A/N: Short interlude...
The office didn't look much different from what she used to have. The work was also no different. However, Winnifred was extremely uncomfortable. Every now and then, she would look up and scan the entire room, as if trying to see if anything changed. After a second, Winnifred found herself staring too much at her purse. Paranoid, she scolded herself. Immediately, someone knocked and Browning entered the room. Winnifred instantly jolted. Her eyes darted on Jack.
"Good evening, Miss Lewly?" Jack smiled. His eyes likewise searched her.
"Or its that too formal given that I know you for a good portion of our lives?"
"Let's hope that that portion will diminish as our lives elongate, Mr. Browning," Winnifred coldly answered, never budging her eyes from his face. Jack's smile slightly shivered.
"Indeed." Winnifred frowned.
"What do you want? I have work to do, and it would be quite rude to work in your presence. Sir."
"Work can wait." Winnifred watched with growing internal horror and irritation how Jack drags the second chair to her desk and sits opposite of her.
"So, Winnifred. Doesn't it feel strange work under me?" Jack lightheartedly asked. Winnifred chewed on the edge of her lower lip, before closing her folder.
"I don't think I have the power to tell you otherwise, but it's Miss Lewly. And no, it doesn't feel strange working under you. Accounting is the same everywhere, Mr. Browning."
His dark eyes narrowed.
"Not letting me in anywhere, are you?" Winnifred smirked and snatched out a pen from the pencil holder.
"Depends on the words letting in. I did let you into my office. As for everything beyond that, you are correct, boss, I'm not letting you in." She made an emphasis on her word boss. Jack didn't like her negative connotation.
"Damn, you sound just like Heath," he muttered. Thank god, Winnifred thought. As far as she knew, Heath's eloquence just served him for the good.
"I take that as...a complement." Jack lowered his eyelids in irritation. Well, at least he let her in. Winnifred wasn't sure if she wanted to, but it was certainly better than being an open book to this...schemer. They were quiet for a moment.
"Are you done being here, Mr. Browning?" Winnifred tiredly asked. Jack just moved his eyebrows and walked out of her office without another word. When the door closed, Winnifred dropped her head into her hands. She felt sick, as if someone's fist ripped through her body and began squashing all the organs inside her. Winnifred slowly lifted her head back up and began writing with twisted vigor.
[...]
For the rest of the day, Winnifred tried to avoid Browning as much as possible. It was relatively easy. By the end of the day, Winnifred was actually uplifted. Running out the heavy, wooden doors, she felt even better when she saw Heath leaning over the shaky fence, obviously waiting for her.
"Hey!" Winnifred ran up to him. Heath broadly grinned and, tossing his cigarette on the ground, threw his hand around her shoulders.
"Hey there, little one."
Winnifred jokingly punched him in the side. Heath's contagious smile got even bigger. They started towards the road.
"Why are you here?" Winnifred asked in curiosity, holding his hand on her shoulder.
"Work ended early today," Heath shrugged. "Regular Thursday trend. Few clients."
"What sort of clients?"
Heather and Winnifred turned around at the same time. Jack was standing behind them, a cigarette elegantly positioned in between his fingers. Heath's smile seemed to freeze at first, before slowly fading from his face. Winnifred tensed, Heath's usually light hold becoming ten times heavier on her shoulders.
"Good afternoon, Heath," Jack politely bowed. His eyes reflected in a dangerous way.
"How's life?"
"Fucking magnificent."
Winnifred carefully looked on Heath. Laughter seemed to be frozen somewhere in the depths of his features, covered by attentiveness and caution. Jack smirked.
"You never constrained yourself in your way of speaking in front of different people." Winnifred felt some sort of accent on different people. She felt the fingers of that fist position around one of her organs.
"I am the same for everyone. Why the hell would I need to change my rhetoric habits?" This time it was hell which was emphasized. Winnifred felt how the organ fearfully shrink from the fist's grasp. The air suddenly started smelling of blood.
"Out of curiosity, who do work now as?" Jack abruptly switched the topic. Heath quietly snorted.
"If this is just out of curiosity, then I'm not answering. You must have a better reason than curiosity, Jack."
Browning crookedly smiled.
"No, not this time," he amiably answered, tucking his hands into his pockets.
"Then we'll be on our way." Heath mockingly bowed with a sarcastic smile and turned around, dragging Winnifred with him. Winnifred easily followed. She didn't really care, instead focusing on how the iron fist squeezes the juice out of her organ.
"Freddie?"
Winnifred startled, raising her eyes up on Heath. He looked concerned.
"Did your spasm start again?"
It took Winnifred a few seconds to realize he was right. The blood in her nose only verified his words.
"I'll be fine. It's just...never mind." Heath just lightly hugged her by the shoulders. Winnifred felt weariness drench her legs.
"Can we go to our mill? It's closer. I'll call Auntie from there."
"Of course."
The mill breathed in that feeling that Winnifred seemed to be missing a couple of days. Tossing her jacket on the stool, she looked around the dear surroundings.
"Hold a minute, I'll get the tea," Heath ran past her upstairs. Winnifred smirked and knocked off her shoes. The wooden planks felt good through her socks. The telephone on the floor suddenly shrieked. Winnifred quickly walked over and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Howdy, listen, girl, I need Heath, is he here right now?" A gruff voice barked at her from the other end. Winnifred raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"One moment...Heath!" She shouted into the mill, lowering the telephone to her chest. Heath appeared in the middle of the staircase, a rusty, archaic teapot tumbling in his hand.
"Aye, ma'am?" Winnifred wordlessly raised on her tip toes and handed him the entire telephone set. Heath raised the phone up to his ear, winking to Winnifred. She chuckled.
"Yes?"
The grin trickled off his face. Winnifred frowned, watching how Heath licks his teeth in concern.
"Yes. Sure. I'll be here in half an hour. Yes...great."
Heath dropped the receiver with a loud bang and shoved the set back to Winnifred.
"Some shit of a client decided to ruin my Thursday. Here," The rusty teapot was added to the collection of objects which were shoved into Freddie Lewly.
"I'll be back as soon as I can. See you later." Heath put on his trench coat and jogged out the door. Winnifred sighed and lowered down her arms, the light knocking of the teapot against the telephone mingling with the sound of the creaking, flung door, loosely swinging back and forth.