This City Is On Fire
That night I stayed at Emma's, neither one of us really wanting to be alone. I can tell she's a little uncomfortable about me staying with her again, the last time I had actually been here had been some time ago but at the same time I know my presence makes her a little calmer.
Michael and Sam had met us a few blocks away from the club after we got out looking ecstatic that we had gotten as much as we had. Our next meeting with Gomez is set for Friday night at a party at one of his houses. Today is Wednesday so we have some time to prepare, which I know Emma needs. It can't be easy to look into the eyes of the man that's responsible for your friend's death but she pulled it off well and I admire her for it.
After going over the recordings and making some of the final decisions Michael had allowed us to leave, telling me to take Emma home because he could tell just by looking at her that the job had taken its toll on her. I called Maddie while Emma was in the shower, no doubt trying to scrub away Gomez's touch and the scent of alcohol.
She asks me if everything went ok and I do my best to sound cheery, reassuring her that Emma just needed some company. Whether she believed me or not I'm not sure but she told both Emma and I goodnight and hopefully she would see us the next day. By the time I hang up Emma has already appeared, dressed in pajamas and holding out a beer.
"Thanks." She manages a small smile and sits on the other side of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and turning on the TV in hopes of getting rid of some of the silence. After a few episodes of some ridiculous sitcom I stand up and grab my keys.
"I'm gonna get something to eat. You want anything?" Looking up she shakes her head but I mentally remind myself to pick something up for her anyways.
Not even twenty minutes later I'm back with a bag in my hand, greasy hamburgers and fries inside. Emma is still awake, perched on the couch with a blanket over her. She smiles when she sees me and when she smells the food I have she perks up and follows me to the kitchen where I start emptying the bag.
"Thought you weren't hungry," I joke. She smiles and shrugs, taking one of the sandwiches and retreating back to the couch before unwrapping it and taking a bite. I join her and in no time we've managed to get rid of most of the food, now completely exhausted and sitting side by side.
"Em, you did good." I tell her, the TV having lost my attention a while ago, and she stiffens beside me. She's embarrassed about what happened after we left, she doesn't like people seeing her at her weakest points. She's like Fi in that way.
"Yeah right. I lost it, we're lucky he didn't see right through me." Sighing I turn slightly and look at her, noticing how upset she looks.
"Come on, you can't blame yourself. You're human, not made of stone. That guy… he killed your friend. I would be worried if you didn't freak out like that."
She laughs a little, "Thanks Jess, I don't think I've ever done something so hard before. I'm a detective, I should have known how to handle myself but for some reason…" She shrugs helplessly and shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes.
"Hey, it's alright." I pull her into a hug, letting her cry as we lapse into silence once more. She lets us sit like this even after she finishes and it brings back memories I would rather push aside, I need to keep my mind clear.
When she finally moves she's looking at me but I can't tell what she's thinking and it kind of scares me. It's like something's controlling me and I lean in closer, hearing her sharp intake of breath. She doesn't say anything or push me away, and I take it as a good sign as I breathe in the scent of vanilla.
It happens quicker than I expected it to and suddenly it register that my lips are on her, and we quickly melt into each other, familiarity burning in our stomachs. And as quickly as it starts, it stops. Emma pulls away, her hands flat on my chest as she looks at me panicked. She stands up quickly and runs a hand through her hair and I wonder what she's going to do, she's got that deer in headlights look.
But instead of speaking, instead of telling me what's wrong she turns around and rushes to the bedroom and I hear the door slam shut behind her, leaving me speechless and somewhat embarrassed. Groaning loudly I slump onto the couch, wondering what the hell I had just done.
…
The next morning seems to come slowly and when I pull myself off of Emma's couch I'm sore and my head is pounding. I can smell coffee and I look into the kitchen and see Emma perched on the counter, reading the newspaper in front of her.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous to walk in there, after last night I don't know how things are between us but I have a feeling they may not be good. I end up entering anyways and at first she doesn't look up, simply sipping her coffee and thumbing through the paper.
I pour myself a cup and lean against the counter opposite of her next to the stove. I feel guilty, knowing I shouldn't have rushed things especially when I knew she didn't want this. She made it clear the night before that what she was looking for wasn't with me. I guess I thought I could change her mind.
"I'm sorry," I tell her, "about last night. I took it too far." She looks up and stares, no emotion, no anger, she just stares. And after grilling me under that green gaze for a moment she nods.
"Yeah, you did. But it takes two to tango." Hopping off the counter she grabs her coffee and heads into her bedroom, no doubt to get ready. She has to go to work for a psych evaluation today and I know she's dreading it but at the same time she has to keep up her work life or people will get suspicious.
We're doing a dangerous dance and she's the only thing keeping them away from us right now. Blowing out a puff of air I go and find my shoes, slipping them on and grabbing my keys. Maybe giving her a little space is a good thing right now.
…
I drive around for a while, deciding to stop at the Carlito and have a drink, hoping to blow off some steam while Emma's gone for the day. I'd rather sit down and talk to her about it but it's better for both of us to have clear minds when we do.
I scout out our normal spot outside on the patio and I'm relatively unsurprised when I see Sam already there sipping a mojito. He looks up and when he sees me he waves and I put on a fake smile, walking up and taking the seat in front of him.
"Jess, you did good last night. I mean, that was Michael Westen level stuff back there." He exclaims and I snort and eye him like he's crazy.
"Hey, I may have been a desk jockey when you met me but I do have some field experience." Sam rolls his eyes good naturedly, smiling when the waitress walks up and hands me my drink. Taking a sip I let the alcohol soothe me, catching the questioning glance coming from Sam. I normally don't drink this early in the day.
"You alright brother?" he asks. I shrug, I'm not too sure right now but I'm thankful for his concern.
"More girl problems?" Damn. Leave it to Sam to know what's wrong when it comes to women. Knowing I've been made I nod, folding my arms over my chest and suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the upcoming conversation.
"Come on, spill," he said, leaning in closer. "If anyone knows what they're talking about it's me." Even though I might regret this, I decide I've got nothing better to do.
"Alright, last night we were talking about the job and Emma… she was upset with how things went at the end, she thinks she's weak but she just doesn't see how she's so much stronger than most people I know." Sam nodded in sympathy, he and Emma got on pretty well despite his early dislike of her. Once he found out Michael was alright with her he warmed up quickly.
"That girl's tough. She got him talking quicker than anyone probably could have." He took another sip of his drink.
"Exactly," I tell him, glad he agrees with me. "I told her that and she was upset, she started crying and I was sitting next to her. When she was done she was looking at me and she was just so close… and I kissed her."
Sam's eyes widen, he knows how tense things have been between us and that combined with the alcohol I'm drinking probably tells him it was a bad idea. "Aw brother, what did she say?"
"Nothing. She didn't say a damn thing. Just looked at me for a second then went in the bedroom. I apologized this morning but she didn't say much."
"What is she doing now?" he asked.
I purse my lips, "she had a mandatory psych evaluation."
Sam made a face, his nose crinkling up slightly. "I always did hate those things."
For another hour or so Sam and I talk a little longer and I learned there was a reason I never drank in the mornings. After my first drink I order an ice tea and Sam laughs as he sips another mojito. I leave first, deciding to do something else to keep myself busy for the remainder of the day and browsing through some weird thrift shop when my phone rings.
"Yeah?" I didn't even bother to look at the caller ID.
"Jess, I need you to pick me up." Emma's voice assaults my ear drums and I pull the phone back as she yells a curse in the background.
"What's wrong?" I ask, worried something happened. She huffs and I hear a car door slam.
"My damn tire is flat and I don't have a jack." Hearing her frustration I bite back a chuckle and pull my keys out.
"I'll be there. Where are you?" there's a pause and some shuffling on her end
"About a mile past the gas station on fifth."
"I'll be there." I tell her and hang up before she gets any angrier.
I see emma before I pull up, leaning against her shiny SUV with her sunglasses covering her eyes. She looks pissed, arms folded across her chest and her jaw clenched tight. Getting out of the car I walk over and inspect the damage to her tire, seeing in almost completely out of air.
"How'd you manage that?" I ask and she growls as she stalks over and stands beside me.
"I don't know, ran over something I think." She shakes her head and nods towards my car.
"Can we go now?" I raise an eyebrow at her eagerness but I don't question it, nodding and sliding into the passenger's seat. It's a long shot, but I try starting a conversation, convinced the silence will drive me crazy.
"Did everything go alright?" she gives a hollow laugh and shrugs.
"I guess. I sat on a couch while some stranger asked me questions about how I felt for an hour and a half." Her voice has raised some and she looks a little ashamed, her face melting into an apologetic half smile.
"Sorry, it's been a while since I had a psych session and they're never easy… Does the CIA give those?" I blink at the question, it's only the second time she's ever mentioned the agency or me being a part of it.
"Sometimes, depends I guess. The last few years I was stuck at a desk so I had no need for them."
Soon her apartment comes into view and I slow down and pull into the mostly empty parking lot, pulling into her spot and killing the engine. She reaches around and grabs her purse, setting it in her lap and glancing at me.
"Thanks for picking me up. I could've called someone else but I wasn't really in the mood for sympathy right now." she laughs a little, and it's cheerier than it has been lately. I smile and wave her off.
"No problem, I wasn't doing anything productive anyways. See you tomorrow night?"
"You gonna pick me up?" she asks, sly smile playing on her glossed lips. It's a nice contrast to the scowl she had been wearing most of the day.
"I guess I have to now, unless you want Sam to."
She shakes her head quickly, "No thanks. He's cool but he talks way too much for me."
We both laugh because it's true, Sam could hold a conversation about anything for hours.
"Alright, I guess I'll see you at six then." She slips out of the car and closes the door, waving and looking at me through the open window until she disappears inside and I'm left there staring at the empty space she had just been occupying.
I'm not sure what I've gotten myself into but sooner or later I'll figure it out. I just hope it includes a happy ending for all of us.
i'm not sure if I like this chapter, I've been writing it all day and I kept getting distracted. Let me know what you think?