Heya guys (:

Thank you all so much for the favs, follows and the very kind review, it means a lot ^^, And here comes chapter five!

If you are a Percy-fan, I would like to warn you and apologize in advance: This story will not be very nice to him – he's one of those characters is just love to hate! xD

Chapter 5 – A clash of Wetmore

"… What about the toilet? I could clean that?"

"Miss Brent, you weren't hired as a cleaning lady…"

"Please, Mr. Edgecomb. I need to do something or I'll lose my mind!"

Poor Paul – she was driving him crazy. But now, when the clock had hit early evening, if was basically his fault, that she was close to death of restlessness. She wasn't allowed on the Mile, except when she was checking up on Alice and right now, the elderly lady was asleep. And she had promised to keep a distance to the other prisoners. Because, as Paul very sensibly had put it: "Talking to a sweet, young lady all day, doesn't really count as a punishment."

So she had spent most of her working hours in Paul's office, reading or chatting with the guys. And it wasn't because she didn't enjoy it – she like the guards – but she was a nurse! She was used to busy schedules, demanding doctors and panic in the E.R.

In comparison, the E-Block was as nerve breaking as a day in the mortuary. And now with Paul and Percy doing paper works, and Dean and Brutus out of the house, she felt like a third wheel. A very useless one…

Paul sighed. One of those sighs, where you could tell, he had already given up.

"Alright," he finally said slowly. "I guess the hallway and the execution room could use a little sweeping. The broom's in the restrain home." He handed her the key. "But remember, stay away from…"

"… the bars. I know." She smiled. "I was actually paying attention yesterday."

"Good girl."

Her presence at the Mile, didn't go unnoticed. The prisoners watch her curiously, when she locked herself in the restrain room.

"Are you going to clean, miss Brent?" Flanders asked, lowering the book he had been reading, when she came out with the broom.

"I sure am."

"Une si jolie dame ne doit pas être le nettoyage des sols," Delacroix joined in. "Boss Edgecomb fait que vous le faites?"

Ellie smiled and locked the door again. "Croyez-le ou non: j'ai fait du bénévolat."

Delacroix chuckled and popped himself on his bunk. "Pardonnez ma franchise, but where did you learn to speak suc' good French, mad'moiselle Brent?"

"Several years of evening classes. Me and by best friend thought we were going to study in France."

"But you didn't?"

"No. I got married. But I still continued with my classes though, just for the fun of it."

"And what 'bout your friend?"

She screwed my husband. "Uh – I guess she realised, it was nothing but a silly school girls dream."

She hadn't paid any attention to the sound of footsteps behind her, so when every trace of laughter suddenly disappeared from Delacroix face, she believe, in a moment of foolish panic, that he had actually read her mind.

But then she heard Percy's drawling voice from behind: "Having a nice time, huh, Del?"

Delacroix' eyes darkened with dread, but his face stayed calm.

"We were jus' talkin', boss Wetmore," he responded quietly. "Jus' talking'"

"I'm sure you were," Percy said, so softly it was almost alarming. "Bet you have a lot to talk about, ain't that right, Del?"

Del didn't respond. His eyes flicked.

"Did you tell her 'bout your crime?" Percy asked. "'Bout that poor girl you raped and killed and those people, you burned to death?"

Del swallowed. Ellie was speechless.

"No?" A thin smile grew on Percy's lips. "Well, my bad, then…"

And then he just turned and walked back up the Mile. No, not 'walked' – strolled. So full of himself, it made Ellies blood boil. Before she even realised it, she had run after him. She caught up with him at the desk.

"What are you doing?"

Percy turned slowly.

"Just wanted you to know the truth, miss Brent," he responded lightly. "Thought you earned that, after all your kindness…"

"I didn't need to know," Ellie said, forcing her anger back. "That is not why I'm here."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Percy drawled, his eyes shining dangerously, as he killed the space between them with a single step. "Did I just destroy your little romantic picture of this place? These people are sick – they do not deserve a single, kind word!"

"The man has to die, Percy! I think that's enough punishment, without me treating him like a monster!"

Percy opened his mouth, but she never got to hear the answer. At that very moment, Dean and Brutus walked through the door. They both stopped dead, as though the tensions had surrounded the Mile like a wall.

Brutus frowned. "What's goin' on?"

To her left, the door to Paul's office opened; he had probably heard the argument too.

"Nothing," Ellie said flatly. "And if your gentlemen will excuse me, I have floors to clean."

Her hand clutching the broom was trembling, as she rushed past Paul, who looked utterly bewildered, and slammed his key down on the table. But she was too furious to feel bad about it.

oOo

The sight of Ellie and Percy so close together – very close – had felt like a punch to his chest, even though Brutus didn't quite understand why. Shouldn't he have seen it coming? All the stealthy glances from Percy, when she wasn't looking – like a wolf lurking on a sheep.

But he had never in his living life imagined that she would be interested in him.

She was way too good for him – that little brat did not deserve her!

It wasn't until she stormed out, leaving an annoyed Percy behind, that he finally realised, that her flaming cheeks wasn't a result of the young guards fawning flirtation, but pure anger instead. And he couldn't help but feeling a little bit relieved. Especially when Percy turned his irritation towards him and Dean.

"What are you two staring at?" he snarled.

"What'd you do to her?" Brutus asked sternly.

"I didn't do anything," Percy sneered. "I just told her how things really work 'round here. It ain't my fault, if she doesn't have the guts for it."

His tone made Brutus clench his fists. Paul eyed him warningly.

"Percy," he said calmly, without taking his eyes of Brutus. "Have you been to the supply room as I told you to?"

"No."

Paul turned his gaze towards the young guard. "Then I don't understand why you're still here?"

When Percy at last left in a sulk, Paul sighed.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Percy happened," Brutus answered darkly. Paul raised his eyebrows. Oh.

"I'll talk to her," Brutus said.

Paul just nodded.

He found her in the corridor behind Paul's office. She was sweeping the floor so hard, he was surprised she hadn't ripped the floorboards apart.

"Hey," he called softly. "Are you a'right?"

A long silence followed his question, before the broom finally stopped. Her shoulders feel, as she turned and slowly sank down on the doorstep to the execution room.

"Percy told me what Delacroix had done," she said in a low voice. She paused to look at him. "Did he really rape and kill a girl?"

"Yes," he said, knowing it would be pointless to lie about it now. He moved closer to her.

"And those people, he burned to death – what happened?"

Brutus squatted down in front of her, his back against the wall. "I was told he panicked. He tried burning 'er, to get rid of the body, you know. But somehow he ended up setting an entire building on fire. Several people died."

The colour in her cheeks faded, and for a moment he wished he had denied it all. Her shock left a tight sense of guilt in his throat.

"I'm sorry," Brutus said silently. "I understand if you hate him now. Lots of people would…

"No." She said weakly. "Perhaps, I should hate him. I don't know…" She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, absently, and sighed. "I'm a bit confused, to be honest. What he did was gruesome and despicable and his sentence is indeed deserved, but… No, I don't hate him. A part of me even pity him: He made one bad choice and ruined his life forever. Eduard Delacroix is now a dead man and there is nothing he can do about it."

"You know," Brutus said slowly. "Even though he killed all those people, it ain't certain that he is gonna die. Not before we pull the switch."

"No matter what happens, he will die," Ellie said calmly. "If he's lucky, the chair will get him."

"And if he ain't?"

She met his eyes. "Do you know how many of the Cold Mountain prisoners, who has young daughters?" she asked. "If his death sentence is change to life, he will be spending the rest of his days amongst them. And when they find out what he did, his death will not be quick. I do hope for his own good, that his reprieve is never going to be approved."

He was listening, honestly! But they were sitting so close, his knees just a handbreadth from hers. And it was suddenly very clear how dark blue her eyes were: Deep and soothing, like the night sky – and just as beautiful…

"You think it's wrong of me, to think like that?" His lack of respond made Ellie frown worryingly. He blinked.

"Uh – no." He cleared his throat, pulling himself together. "No, not at all. I wished more people thought like you: With their hearts…"

She gave him a tiny smile. "I've been told, it's my heart that always gets me into trouble."

He smiled back. "I don't believe that."

She scoffed, her smile turning all lop-sided.

"What about you?" she asked softly. "Do you hate them?"

Brutus shook his head. "No."

"Why not? You know what they have done?" It was more a question of curiosity, rather than disbelief.

He shrugged. "It's easier not to. If I had to hate every pris'ner in here, I'd be a very bitter man."

She half laughed. "True."

There was a second of silence and then, to Brutus surprise, she touched his knee fleetingly.

"I am glad you didn't lie about Delacroix," she said with a slight smile. "And thank you for checking on me, Brutus. That was very kind of you."

"I… No problem."

It was just a brief contact, but even after she removed her hand, he could still feel the tiny weight of her touch. Brutus was suddenly overwhelmed by a strong, unknown urge to reach out and take her hand… squeeze it gently to comfort her… let her fingers slide trough his… feel the softness of her skin…

His face turned hot. A bit flustered, he reached for his pocket watch. It took some time, before he was able to concentrate about the hands.

"Uh, miss Brent… Ellie – don't you get of at seven?"

"Oh, blimey! What time is it?"

"It's a'right: Just ten minutes past. If you hurry, you can still catch the bus."

They rose to their feet and he followed her back to Paul's office, where she grabbed her coat and purse, before continued to the Mile. Here he joined Dean and Paul at the desk, watching Ellie wishing Mrs. Reardon a good night.

"Is she okay?" Dean asked him worryingly. "What happened?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine," Brutus mumbled back. "Percy told her, what Del did. Guess it shook her a bit."

"Of course," Dean said knowingly. "No woman should ever hear about such thing."

Brutus rolled his eyes and murmured: "Now you sound like that goddamned Percy!"

"Well, she really shouldn't," Dean said, frowning. "It could devastate her."

Brutus snorted. "She ain't a glass vase you know. I'm pretty sure, she is much tougher, than you guys will ever give her credit for."

Dean shot him a sideways glare, but didn't dare say anything back, because Ellie was now again within earshot. She addressed Paul, looking slightly ashamed.

"Mr. Edgecomb, I'm sorry about before…"

Paul waved her off. "No harm done, don't you worry about it." He nodded towards Delacroix. "Del told me what happened."

The little Frenchman looked away, when she turned to him. She bit her lip.

"Maybe I just talk to him…" she began quietly, but Paul cut her off:

"No, miss Brent. You go home now, have a rest and we'll continue this tomorrow. Del ain't going nowhere."

She smiled, bowing her head. "Same time tomorrow, then?"

"Yes, miss. And we're looking forward to your delightful company, so don't you blow us off."

"That would never occur to me," she responded softly. "Goodnight, guys."

"'Night, Miss Brent."

"Sleep tight, Ellie." Her name slipped from Brutus tongue, before he could call it back; he wasn't even aware of it, before two pairs of surprised glares turned towards him. He blushed, without really knowing why…

And of course, Paul had to step in it.

"I didn't know, you guys were so intimate," he said innocently, when Ellie had left and they walked back to his office.

"We aren't. I… I jus' thought this entire formality was a bit foolish. I mean, we are supposed to be co-workers."

"So when did 'Eleanor' became 'Ellie'?" Dean asked with a teasing smile.

Paul grinned. "That's a very good question!"

"A'right, knock it off, you two," Brutus growled. "I just drove her to the bus yesterday."

"You drove her to the bus?" Paul repeated, smirking. "How sweet of you."

Brutus felt the heat rose to his cheeks again. "Christ, so I can't give her a ride, but Dean is allowed to go crazy, every time her name is brought up."

"I don't…" Dean began, sounded hurt, but Paul cut him off:

"Well, Dean's a married man," he said. "And you ain't."

"Aw, come on!"

Feeling suddenly very hot and quite irritated, Brutus decided he didn't have to listen to this. Ignoring the significant looks between Paul and Dean, he left the office.

… And before he knew it, he found himself in the empty prison yard, staring through the fence as he followed her tiny figure hurry across the parking lot. His mouth went dry and his heart was beating rapidly.

This was going too fast – what was happening?

You're pathetic. All it takes is a smile from a pretty gal to get you all flibbertigibbet.

No, it was worse than that, he suddenly realised in slight horror, when his heart sank watching her leave. He was falling for her.