chapter word count: 561

noir heart: seventy-seven

Tidying up in ten minutes, does that involve putting things where they're supposed to be? Hell no. The universe laughs at that concept. No, it's more like hiding things. Used plates in the oven. Glasses in the sink. Beer bottles tossed into the trash and shoved inside a kitchen cupboard.

Crime scene photographs wedged out of sight under his mattress. Best place he can think of - it's not like she's going into his bedroom, after all.

Three rapid knocks send his slight panic a few levels higher, and after a quick glance around the...tidier...living room, he adjusts his tie as he strides to open the door. Of course, she's seen him at his worst, so it's not like she'll judge. But, you know, decency.

Clutching her brown handbag, she looks up at him with slightly wide and expectant emerald eyes, clad in a beige jacket, lilac top and blue denim pants. She nibbles at the side of her lip, and her hands squeeze the bag straps slightly. And then her one glance toward the stairwell tells him it's something pretty important. "Hey, Jack…" she says softly.

Awkwardness is the order of the day - after all, they're technically divorced. Even if the air between them is heavy and a little electric. She is still close to his heart. "Can I...can I come in?" She asks hesitantly, as though expecting him to tell her to fuck off. Part of him wants to satisfy that expectation. Nodding slowly, he stands aside. "Thanks," she says quietly, choosing now to avert her eyes. Taking a moment to quickly check the stairwell, Jack closes the door and turns to find her standing in pretty much the same posture she was outside his home.

"You can sit, you know," he points out, frowning bemusedly with one eyebrow cocked as he gestures to the sofa with his eyes. Rapunzel blinks once or twice, and then it seemingly clicks with a start, "oh, right, sit!" eventually ending with her parking her butt at the very edge of his sofa cushion. "So, what's this about?" He asks, tilting his head as he pockets his hands.

Rapunzel fidgets with her hands, and looks in the vague direction of his kitchen. Hopefully not seeing the Chinese takeout boxes in the bread bin. "Someone...someone came to see me this morning. Said she was from a blog...and asked about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. What you were like...about us...how you...well, you know."

"Okay, so - what did you tell her?"

Rapunzel looks up, and...is that guilt? "The truth, Jack. She told me she was writing about the private lives of detectives, and...she knows what...who…"

"She knows how I went downhill." Jack finishes grimly. Instinctively, he further asks "Out of curiosity - this woman, did she have blonde hair in a French braid? Blue eyes?"

Rapunzel frowns bemusedly and tilts her head. "...yeah...how did you know?" she says.

He shrugs in an attempt to appear indifferent - it's probably not a good idea for Rapunzel to know that a woman who mercilessly ended her husband is now aware of where she lives. "Lucky guess, and long story. Don't worry about it."

Advice that he himself ignores, as inside he's a simmering pot of fury and concern.

uh-oh. Heads up, though - some Jackunzel is coming. Believe it or not, just like OGaV's Jastrid it has a point. Two, actually. Fair warning, 'cause otherwise you might wanna step away for about three or four updates.

special thanks to: rainbowcolorw0w, doomstone, stefalove, hornedgoddess, oninoko, jpbake, dingo, deadbreath (hai!) and heartonfire for the reviews!