Good Enough

(Hey, everyone. I'm back already with the second chapter. The lines in bold-italics are song lyrics. Consider this my disclaimer; I don't own anythng Staind wrote, although that would be kinda' cool. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!)

Chapter 2

"Reply" by Staind

The last light in the house next door was finally extinguished, leaving only his house to show any sign of life. Miles stood alone in his over-polished kitchen, leaning up against the blue marble countertop near the sink, above which there was a single open window. The prosecutor stared out of it, seeing nothing now but impenetrable darkness. There was a cool breeze blowing in through it that caused his gray bangs to flutter slightly in front of his eyes. The only sounds he could hear now were the constant chirping of crickets and the occasional bark of a dog in the distance.

With a heavy sigh, Miles brought the black bottle to his lips again and took another swig of its contents. It burned fiercely all the way down, causing him to cringe a bit. Every time! This happened every time he took a drink, and yet he just kept doing it! And not only did it burn him physically, it caused immense emotional pain as well, and that was exactly the thing he had been trying to drive off with this dreadful poison!

I have seen
Too many sad eyes look at me
Eyes that set me free
All the places that I've been

He set the thick glass bottle on the countertop beside him and leaned more heavily against the cold marble. He just couldn't shake it; every time he was left to his thoughts, the image returned to him. How was he supposed to live with himself now that he had stopped another human being from living? He couldn't seem to justify it to himself, even when the image of Franziska's beaten and broken body floated before his mind's eye. Sure, he felt hate for that man and knew fully well that he had deserved everything he got, but Miles couldn't stop thinking of himself as a murderer. Perhaps the further pain he kept causing himself was just his way of punishing himself just for the sake of closure.

A disturbance from another part of the house dragged him out of his thoughts. It sounded as if someone had come in, for he heard the closing of a heavy door from the entrance lobby of his rather large and expensive house. He distinctly remembered locking that door after coming in, so that meant it could only be one person. They had lately been discussing plans for her to move in with him, but so far they had only exchanged keys so that they could come and go in each other's place of residence as they pleased. He sighed and hung his head, not even bothering to go and greet her. No matter what he did, she'd know he was still drinking even after the little scene earlier that day.

"Miles?" he heard her voice ring out as she moved through the house. She hadn't yelled, only spoken loudly to see if he would answer. She didn't sound angry at all, but at the same time, her voice wasn't excited either.

Thank you for
The letters that you thought you wrote in vain
And for
The times you chose to stand out in the rain
And wait
For me

It took about half a minute for her to find him, peering around the corner into the kitchen to see him standing there staring back at her. For a moment, he thought she'd start screaming at him or run off crying again, but her eyes only lingered on the bottle beside him for a moment before she stepped onto the shiny black tile floor.

"Why didn't you answer?" she asked, her voice quiet as if there was someone else in the house whom she wanted to leave out of their conversation.

For me

He watched her for a long time, trying to think straight. Why hadn't he answered her? He wasn't sure… Perhaps it had just been the shame in what he was doing that made him reluctant to call her to him. "I didn't hear you," he lied finally. "I was… thinking…"

Instinctively, Franziska opened her mouth to retort with some remark about him confusing the two rhyming words 'thinking' and 'drinking' in his 'influenced' state, but she closed it again, repressing the urge to scream at him and start another dispute. "W-well," she stammered slightly, doing all she could to control her emotions, "m-me too."

Surprised, Miles raised an eyebrow. "About what?" he wondered aloud, trying still to figure out why she hadn't hit him or something.

"About… us…" She looked very hesitant, as if she hadn't come up with exactly what she was trying to say just yet, though she had most likely been trying for some time.

"What…about us?" He was a little worried now, knowing these types of conversations didn't always end happily. He hadn't moved from where he had been standing, one hand resting in a slightly curved position right beside his whiskey bottle and the other nervously toying with his lace cravat, which—along with his suit--he had not even bothered to remove even in this late hour.

Franziska took a deep breath before speaking, obviously having trouble with this whole 'civil confrontation' thing. "Earlier," she began uncertainly. "I think… I think I might have overreacted a bit."

Your words
Your words help me to see
A little honesty
In a world that doesn't share

"I beg your pardon." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The matter of his drinking had always been a touchy subject with her, and she had never thought any amount of anger toward him for it to be extreme.

"I mean," she said quickly. "I think… I might be going about this…the wrong way." She took a few steps toward him and then stopped again, still working on what to say next. "When we were in the hospital… and I had just woken up… I spoke to Tilea for a few minutes."

Miles gazed at her expectantly, sure he knew where this was going. He remembered clearly the words of wisdom and the warning she had given him before they had burst into Brad Sanders' hide out that had obviously proven to be quite true as of late. He remembered watching her transform in an instant from the empty and hardened Agent Tilea to the wise and more human woman known as Phoenix. So, had Franziska witnessed the same change in her as well?

"Tilea knew…even before I did… how I felt about you," Franziska started to explain. "I don't know how, but she did. She said something to me that I wasn't sure how to take, but now I think I understand what she meant."

"What…did she say?" Miles asked curiously, for some unknown reason eager to hear that girl's prediction about their relationship.

Franziska took in another deep breath, and then recounted her friend's words exactly as she remembered them.

"The feelings the two of you share are about to be put to the test, yet they are now more important than ever. You both have sacrificed something to save the life of the other, and while this will bring you closer, it can also drive you apart over time. Your love must run deeper than your sacrifice and deeper than your scars, else it will never survive the healing process. Instead of dwelling on your pain while you're here, I advise that you figure out why it is that you love him and hold fast to that truth, because the sea ahead is a rough one."

As he listened, he tried to understand. In a way, it made sense to him, but—he didn't know if it was the alcohol or just a plain lack of comprehension—something about it was strange. It sounded less like friendly words of advice and more like some kind of vague prophecy of sorts. What she had said to him had nearly the same sort of effect, but it was more straight forward, more based on career experience. According to some things that Tilea had said since they had gotten to know the two agents more personally had suggested that the state of being in love with someone was not an experience she had ever had.

"So, I think I've made a mistake."

Miles snapped back to attention again, having almost forgotten that there was someone else in the room. "What…do you mean… a mistake?" he inquired.

"I know that… you've been feeling guilty," Franziska began. "And… though I don't agree with your choice, I know that's why you… started doing this. However, instead of…trying to help, I've been selfish. I've just been… screaming at you and making you feel worse, so instead of stopping, you just feel like you have to drink more, which creates even more guilt." She said all of this slowly at first, but then began to speed up at the end. "It's… a cycle and… I've just been making it worse."

And your eyes
Tell the story of your pain
Severity of your disdain
In a world that doesn't care

Miles gaped at her as she hung her head in what looked like shame. No… This wasn't her fault at all! He was the one being selfish, not her! He was suddenly angry and wasn't sure where the emotion had come from. "Don't ever say that again," he hissed dangerously, causing her to nearly back away from him.

She looked up to see the passionate fury in his gray eyes. He was now much tenser and had turned himself to face her slightly more, though he still leaned against the counter. The hand that had been resting on the marble had balled into a fist and his other hand was now down by his side, gripping the bottom lining of his jacket. He appeared as if he was on the verge of snarling at her, teeth bared, but his lips were still together at this point.

"W-well…" Franziska stammered, nearly backing away from him. "Th-that's how I feel about it. I feel like…part of the blame rests with me. I haven't really been supportive; I've just…yelled and…cried a lot…"

Once more, her head was lowered, but it snapped back up at the sudden sound of shattering glass. Her lips parted in shock as she saw that Miles had slammed the black bottle into the sink though it had still been about halfway full of liquid, reducing it to nothing but shards. She could now see that the slightly diluted drink was swirling down the drain, brown and visually unappealing. She then returned her gaze to Miles, who she realized, with a lurch, was coming at her.

So thank you for
The letters that you thought you wrote in vain
And for
The times you chose to stand out in the rain
And wait

Her primal instincts told her to flee, but he had a hold of her wrist before the message could fully translate to her entire body. However, she did have time to gasp before he pulled her to him, wrapping his free arm around the middle of her back and applying enough pressure to keep her there.

It took her a few moments to realize what had just happened and what was happening now. In just a split second, she had felt a number of different emotions. First, there had been fear, then guilt, then shock, amazement, fear again, and now… contentment. She remained tense as these thoughts sorted themselves out in her head, then her entire body visibly relaxed as she melted in his embrace. She rested her face against his shoulder, turning her head only enough to keep from suffocating herself in the expensive fabric of his red suit jacket.

Miles released her wrist and she brought her now freed hand up to rest on his shoulder next to her face while he placed his on her lower back. Franziska's other hand was now resting on Miles' right side, directly over the place where—not too long ago—there had been a gunshot wound. It had healed by now, but there was an obvious scar in its place, one that he was sure would never vanish. However, the pain had gone from it, and having her hand resting upon that spot was a vivid reminder to him of why it had existed at all. Twice had blood gushed freely from that spot, both times in fighting for her sake. So, why stop fighting for her now, even if it was against himself. He somehow felt that—even if the gesture was subconscious—the act of placing her hand upon it was a final plea to him for both their sakes.

You
You understand my pain
From this I gather strength
In that we are the same

Miles began to rock gently side to side, taking her with him as he bent his neck to place his lips on the top of her head, kissing her once but not removing them. He continued to sway, taking in the fresh sent of her smooth light gray hair. It was wonderful, but he started to feel as if he was tainting the sent with his own breath, which still smelt of strong whiskey.

Then again, perhaps it was the other way around. Perhaps, instead of his strong self-corruption tainting her, her fresh innocence was purifying him. He breathed in again, taking in the sent, the purity. He prayed that what he was doing was not wrong, for he had already taken a part of her innocence from her once, and, in a sense, against her will.

So thank you for
The letters that you thought you wrote in vain
And for
The times you chose to stand out in the rain
And wait

His long bangs brushed against the top of her head lightly and he felt a shudder run through her. He could now see them in front of his eyes, dark gray: he was so far from innocence now, and it felt as if only a small bit of good remained in him. It was a stunning contrast with hers, which was a much lighter shade of the same color. Dispite her outward or public appearance and all she had seen and been through, she was so far from the darkness, still so young and barely tainted by the cruelty of the world around her.

The life I live would never be the same
Without you here

These truths came to him in the time that they stood entwined in each other's arms, and he could never have guessed how long they stood there before Franziska lifted her face to his and they shared a tender kiss. When they pulled apart, he could vividly read the expression upon her face, and there was something uncomfortable in it. He knew what it meant, and he replied to her unspoken comment, whether she had been about to say it or not. "This is the last time," he said softly, moving the hand that had rested upon the middle of her back up to the back of her head, sliding his fingers into her hair, which had grown a couple of inches past her shoulders. "That was the last one in the house, and I don't plan on getting anymore."

She gazed into his eyes intensely, using all of her power of observation. No, this time the words weren't empty. She saw something there she hadn't the last time. The fact that the words "I promise" had not been added to that statement had no relevance at all; he meant it, and she knew it.

You here

"Would you… like some coffee?" he asked, knowing that neither of them had any intention of going to sleep any time soon even though it was dark out.

"I have a better idea," she whispers, her voice sending a shiver down his spine. She had pressed herself closer to him and lifted her head again, this time placing her warm, soft lips against his throat.

You here

Miles lifted his head in response, exposing the place as more chills surged through him, every muscle in his body slowly beginning to tense up as he felt his blood pulsing. The hand that had been entwined in her hair now closed around the back of her neck, and the fingers of his other hand applied intense pressure to the small of her back. He couldn't believe what she was suggesting, and wasn't sure if he should be feeling so excited, but it was impossible to resist.

Without you here