Sometimes, there are stapled stacks of paper left around the house, forgotten on the couch overnight, or on the deck table when she leaves for work during the day. He makes the big mistake of flipping through one of them once. It's very dull. Lots of compound words and medical terms. He's somewhat torn between asking Elsa about it or just leaving the girl to her weird nerdy antics. And then, one day, she's reading one of those technical texts with a massive cup of coffee in her hands and a handful of colored markers scattered on the kitchen island.
"Studying for finals?" he teases before getting a water bottle from the fridge and taking long gulps from it.
She points a marker accusingly at him. "Very funny."
He leans over the island to take a glimpse at the top sheet. Upside down, the words make even less sense to his unaccustomed mind. "Whatcha reading?"
"Some psychology paper I came across the other day," she waves it off nonchalantly.
"... For funsies?"
Elsa scowls. "Just because I'm no longer in the field, doesn't mean I can't keep up with the research being done."
He hums, nodding slowly. He gets it, he supposes. One has to always aim to improve oneself, keeping up to date with trends and new tech. His profession was the same, albeit with fewer Latin words to learn—except maybe from when one frat bro wanted carpe diem tattooed across their chest.
"Do you think of ever going back?"
The question seems to take the woman by surprise. She freezes, eyes wide and jaw tight. She stutters, "I-I… am not sure. Didn't leave on the best of terms."
"I mean, the passion is still there." He nods at the stack of papers. "And there are more jobs than, uh, working on criminal cases, right? Something more uplifting."
"I suppose." She doodles some arabesques on the corner of the page absentmindedly. "Someday, maybe. For now, I think I'm satisfied with my current job."
"Well, I think you're fitting just fine on your current job."
"You've never seen me working," she reminds him with skepticism.
Jack chuckles. "Oh, believe me, my uncle has sung your praises plenty."
"I'm flattered. But that's not the same thing."
He locks eyes with her and smirks in his most charming way. Which, when it comes to Elsa, probably means close to zilch. "Are you suggesting I schedule some training time with you? Because I am no way in hell signing up for yoga classes."
"Depends. Are you gonna use it as an excuse to flex on me?"
"Why?" Jack walks to her side, rests his hip against the kitchen island, and crosses his arms, showing off his biceps for good measure. "See something worth flexing you like?"
She gags, shoving him out of her personal space before getting up and starting to collect her things. "I think I've done enough reading for a day. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to the gym."
"Hey, snag one of their business cards for me, will ya?" he shouts after her. "Imma get a membership, then you can be my spotter!"
"Yeah… I'm not doing that," comes her reply as she goes up the stairs.
"Cool, I'm down for private one-on-ones too!"