"The Mistaken M. Jones"
34. Slow Go
March 2012 – Lima, Ohio
Brittany didn't know what was making Puck so upset that day, but he'd been going around with a scowl on his face since they'd met up and driven to the building that belonged to the address Puck had copied down after sneaking into the secretary's office. Whenever she asked him what was wrong, he said 'nothing,' and she'd be quiet for a while, feeling like she shouldn't be talking for a while. The fact that he didn't explode at her for trying again and again was a surprise, too.
"This is it, right?" she asked, looking up at the apartment building. He looked at his note again, checked the number at the door.
"That's the one," he frowned. "Come on."
They went up to the door… but when they tried to enter, it was locked. They had to get themselves buzzed in. Brittany looked to Puck. He shrugged.
"Trial and error then." He started punching in the apartment numbers. Each time he waited a few seconds, and when he got nothing, he tried another, and another. It took until the fifth number before there was a shrill noise and Puck pulled at the door. They were through that hurdle.
"She's on the third floor, right?" Brittany asked.
"Elevator's that way," he pointed.
"How do we know if she's in or not?" He looked at her now and he was finally starting to get aggravated at her questions. It wasn't that they weren't good questions, ones that needed asking, but it was as though she was reading his mind and giving it voice.
"Can I help you?" They turned to find a man standing at the mailboxes on the wall, key in hand.
"No, we're good, thanks," Puck frowned at him, tapping Brittany's arm. "Come on."
"You don't live here," the man pointed out. "Who are you here to see?" he stepped toward them.
"What are you a cop or something?" Puck was not impressed.
"Or something," the man gave them both a pointed look. "So how about you just leave right now, and I don't have to call in on trespassers." Brittany looked at Puck, shaking her head. She didn't want that to happen. Puck was considering his options, and finally he breathed out and moved past the man, Brittany following him as they left and started back up the street.
When they were gone, Walter smirked to himself, shaking his head as he went to get his mail. Once he had it, he went up to Ginny's… No, Gemma's apartment. It still took him a few tries to remember the name he'd believed to be hers was no more than an alias. He didn't mind it. It wasn't her name he cared for.
He found her sitting cross legged on her bed, writing up what he guessed was her lesson plan for the next day. Ever since he had found out the truth about her, she had welcomed him into her home in what was quite the opposite to the way she used to greet his arrival. He wasn't insulted by that. He understood why she'd done it now. If anything, knowing it made him know that she did care for him, and that was good enough.
"There were some kids trying to sneak in the building," he told her, pointing back toward the door.
"Uh… Wait, what?" she looked up once his words had reached her. "What'd they look like?"
"Well, one of them was a cheerleader, from the look of her uniform."
"Blonde or Latina?"
"Blonde," Walter nodded. "The guy that was with her was sort of angry looking. Had a Mohawk…"
"Puck…" she breathed. "And Brittany." She put the papers down and went to the window, checking to see if she could still spot them. She couldn't see them, but that didn't mean they weren't still hanging around. "Well that's just great," she sighed.
"How do they know where you live?" Walter asked, coming to stand next to her.
"No idea, but I will have to see about that. So how did you get rid of them?"
"I played the mysterious guy, maybe a cop, maybe not…" Gemma chuckled. "What, don't think I can pull it off?" he fixed her with a 'threatening' glare.
"Please, I'm scarier than you."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he bowed his head.
She looked at him, her one true friend in this time and place. Not just a friend… The next thing either of them knew, she'd grasped at the front of his shirt and pulled herself nearer until she was kissing him. As surprised as he was in that first second or two, he quickly got over it, putting his arms around her as he kissed her back. Gemma had been lonely in her months in Lima, so very lonely, and she just might have allowed the kiss to become something else, to quench her need for honesty and human contact, but she wasn't going to get ahead of herself, especially when her circumstances hadn't changed. She would still be gone in a matter of months. Already she was overstepping the bounds she had set for herself, and when she remembered herself, she pulled away.
"Sorry, I… I didn't mean to… I-I shouldn't have…" she couldn't look him in eye, and part of her knew this was for shame, but the other part knew very well the real problem was she wanted to kiss him again.
"I wasn't complaining," he promised, smiling dazedly.
"No, I know, and it was… it was nice… very, oh so nice…" she shivered. "But I can't, and you know why," she insisted. This seemed to weigh on him suddenly.
"I do." But his hands were on her face, and he was kissing the top of her head, and she just wanted to stay there, in his arms, her forehead pressed to his chest and feeling his heart beat. All it had taken had been to let him properly into her world, even just that little she had allowed, and she knew she was in real trouble. He was everything she'd thought him to be, all those good things… and she'd never get to keep him.
TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)