Episode 1x16: A Hard Day's Night (Part 1 of 2)
It seemed like all the talk about angels had Jesse once again on edge, but at least now he was okay around Claire again. Mostly. He was spending a lot of time with Izzy lately, following the older woman out to her garage while she worked and otherwise wandering the junkyard with her two dogs trailing behind. At least he hadn’t run off, though. After Claire’s dream, Ben had feared he would, but one good thing did emerge out of it: Claire knew what the sigils looked like. Not wanting to get a tattoo too soon when they weren’t even completely sure if they worked, Ben had opted to buy a henna kit from a nearby new age store and let her put it on the both of them. He’d let her put it on his chest, on the opposite side as the anti-possession tattoo. Every time he caught sight of it in the mirror, he felt a little bit odd.
Should’ve done the arm or something... he thought absently, working the edge of his razor slowly down his cheek.
“You know, I like the scruffy look,” came her familiar voice from behind, warm, but still carrying the same weight it had over the last couple days.
Shifting the angle of his gaze in the mirror, He saw Claire was right behind him, her shoulder pressed lightly on the painted door jamb. Her hair was dry, but she was wrapped in a towel, obviously heading in for a shower. Ben met her eyes with a half-smile, sticking the blade beneath the faucet and turning it on briefly before bringing it back up to his face again.
“Well I mean, I already started,” he said lightly. “Jesse would give me all kinds of shit if I only did one side of my face. I’ll grow it out after this though, promise.” Claire returned his smile, but didn’t say anything after that. She simply watched him for a long, comfortable moment in silence. Too many things behind her eyes to give to voice.
There was a subtle intimacy about this that Claire clung to and cherished. Though her gaze was soft before, it softened further with each passing moment, to the point where she finally pushed off the jamb and padded up behind him. Her fingers, cool from the air conditioning, traced up the lines of his back and shoulders, then down his arms and back to his sides. She kissed the back of his neck and met his eyes over his shoulder in the reflection. There was heat there, but more so, deep affection and companionship; Claire wore all her love in her eyes.
Ben swallowed hard, putting the blade down. His chin and upper lip were still unfinished, but he figured it was a good compromise. As it was, he couldn’t concentrate with the way she was touching him, and the look in her eyes was doing all kinds of things to his insides. Grabbing up the little damp hand towel, he ran it over his face and chucked it into the sink, turning around so he was facing her and letting his arms fall naturally around her waist.
“Is this another one of those things that I should do more often that you like?” he asked, his voice soft but amused. She quirked a brow at him over her own gentle, leaning smile, her hands also found their natural place on Ben’s chest.
“Wasn’t a suggestion--just an opinion.” Her voice mirrored his, though it was soft and trailed off on the end as her concentration shifted to something else: the warmth of his skin, and the subtle din of a heartbeat under her right hand. She’d noticed both things with a distracting clarity over the last few days.
Ben’s brows lifted slightly, but he remained silent, training his thumbs along the towel-covered dip of her spine and wishing it was bare skin. He didn’t want to be so bold as to just yank the towel off of her, especially given the mood she’d fallen into after they’d arrived a few days ago. Instead he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, pulling her more tightly against him.
“I like doing what makes you happy,” he said into her left temple. Claire said nothing besides giving a soft contented sigh that rolled down the hollow of his throat as she curled a bit more into him. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist, just to get closer.
“I love you,” she finally whispered, just barely over her breath. Ben’s arms tightened that much more. Claire was so careful with her words, always; not like he was. He threw words out more often than not without really thinking about the consequences, but Claire... every word she said, she meant.
She told him she loved him a lot in the past few days. In spite of the circumstance, he couldn’t deny how much it filled him with elation every time he heard it. Brushing another kiss to her temple, he trailed his lips downward along her jaw, then lifted his hand to her chin to guide it up just enough to claim her mouth. Though the kiss was slow, it was all encompassing; Claire felt it ring in every corner of her body, closing her eyes and making her weak.
Part of her wanted to go on forever like this: surrounded by Ben, held up by his protective, needful hands and his perfect love. She loved Jesse, but she wasn’t so completely off-guard and vulnerable with him, especially since that dream. Only with Ben was she so utterly defenseless, and in that moment, Claire would have it no other way.
“I’ll tell you more, if you want to know,” she whispered against his lips, one hand weakly caressed his face, her eyes stayed closed. The thought of reliving any part of her recent encounter with the angel, Amitiel, was terrifying, and there was a lot in that future that she couldn’t bear burdening on either one of them, but she knew it worried Ben--this not knowing.
For a moment, confusion flickered in his eyes, but then Ben remembered. He brought both hands up to cradle her face, looking back and forth between her eyes with genuine sincerity and empathy.
“Only if you want me to know,” he replied. “I don’t wanna cause you any pain, y’hear me? You’ve been through enough.”
She considered deeply for a moment, caught between needing to get it off her chest and being too scared to do so. Claire rolled her lips inward, then pressed them to his once, then again in a sheer need for the comfort.
We had a child--a little girl... The sentence was plain as day in her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it because of the questions that the knowledge was sure to bring about; questions that she knew she didn’t want to answer. Claire’s shoulders tensed as she inhaled, then let the breath out slow, shaking her head.
“Another time, then,” she hushed, and kissed him again. She curled her arms around his thick shoulders and pulled herself close, her cheek nestled against his--she was surrounded by the aroma of his shaving cream mixed with his skin.
Ben sighed, his hand stroking her hair and his other arm holding her against him tightly. Cold fury pulsed just beneath his skin. Both Claire and Jesse were constantly made into targets. He hated that he couldn’t find a way to help them outside of being supportive; it literally ate away at his resolve.
“C’mon,” he said against her hairline. “Shower can wait.”
****
Body work was perhaps one of the most fun parts of working on a car. Granted, it left Isobel Gallagher’s body aching and sore, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. All the banging and blow-torching was fantastic stress relief, especially when she hadn’t heard from her boyfriend in four days. But that was the risk of dating a hunter, and Izzy knew he was safe. There were people that would get a hold of her if he wasn’t.
The GTO looked as though it’d been stuck into a garbage disposal, but the hood and sides were still well enough in tact. One door had come partly off its hinges, which was proving to be a bit of a struggle to work with, but after fighting with both the molding and the hinge for an hour, she decided to put it off until the next day. Maybe Ben would do it. He had a bit more muscle in his arms than she did, after all.
Damn, but she did miss the kid. It felt good having him around again, even if it was only for a while. The tension he carried in with him and his friends was thick enough to cut through, which made it a bit less-than-ideal, but Izzy knew how to diffuse tension. It was part of what brought hunters and other supernatural investigators back to her over and over again.
Well, that and her cooking.
The banging as she beat out the dings in the hood could be heard all the way to the house, but Shelby and Rex -- Izzy’s two dogs -- hardly seemed to notice as they watched her from the beat-up old couch that sat on the far wall of her garage. She would need to weld on a few new pieces to patch up the holes, not to mention repainting the whole thing when she was done, but it was coming along at a good speed.
The dogs’ gazes went towards the house, and Rex gave a low wumph, but they didn’t seem all that alarmed. When Izzy glanced that direction, she saw the other boy, Jesse, walking into the garage. He smiled at her.
“I don’t know whose face you’re picturing as you hit that thing, but I’m glad it’s not me.”
“Nobody’s face,” Izzy replied, sweeping her hair out of her eyes with the back of her arm as she kept clanging away. “Honesty, I haven’t punched anybody in the face in a long-ass time. Five years at least.”
Jesse waited until another pause before saying, “Looks like you want to, though. ...Need any help?”
Izzy laughed, rubbing the back of her hand over her forehead again and flashing him a grin.
“Nah.” She paused, looking up at the large wall clock above the couch. “Probably should take a coupla minutes’n have some water though. Maybe go do some huntin’ ‘round the yard’n see if I can find some more scrap pieces for the weld job. You can help with that, if ya wanna.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Yeah, sure. Want to help when I can.”
Izzy rolled back onto her heels, pushing up from her knees until she was fully standing again. Being only about 5’2”, she was a tiny thing, but she was built like a boxer: all compact muscle and strong, sturdy legs. Once her goggles and gloves were off she gave a low whistle to the dogs, grabbed up her water bottle and her chalk marker from the table with her tools, and lead the way out through the open garage doors.
“Why ya lookin’ for somethin’ to bang out, kid?” she asked him.
Though his stomach twisted, he gave a grin. “I’d settle for someone to bang.”
Izzy hardly even flinched, though she did take a deep swig of her water before laughing. “Can’t help ya there, I’m afraid.”
Very unsubtly looking her over, Jesse said, “You could if you wanted.” Then he shrugged. “But in the meantime, looks like I’ll have to settle for trash.”
“You’re right,” she said, though she didn’t go clarifying which part of what he said that she was addressing. Jed would’ve never known about the little misdeed, though they’d both decided early on not to restrict themselves to just each other. Life was hard. She wanted kids before she was too old to raise them properly, and he wasn’t exactly the fathering type. Nevertheless, Izzy’s inner Catholic wasn’t too keen on polygamy, even in the mildest sense.
Besides, Jesse was just a kid. She had to be at least ten years older than him, though she’d never asked. If he was hanging out with Ben, he had to be at least in the same ballpark for age. Izzy shoved the thought down with another swig of water, strolling up to one of the numerous cars lining the wide corridors of her scrapyard. The metal on the roof of it was still good and smooth, and she marked up the side with a large white X.
“What’s that mean?” Jesse asked, following after her.
“To come back with my buzz saw and a bin later,” she replied. falling back into step with him, though her eyes continued to move around the yard. “Better to do it all in one go than as I go. Though,” she smirked slightly, “I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t just ditch the old roof an’ put on a new one, but then I’d have to mold it’n fuck that. I’ve got shit to do.”
Jesse winced. “Yeah, they tore into it pretty bad. Bet you see that a lot, though, with what other hunters have to take on.”
“Let’s just say it’s a lucrative business, what I do,” Izzy said, her smirk widening into one cheek. “Most everybody who comes through here, it’s obvious that they love their cars, considering how much body work I end up doin’.”
“Yeah. Got to admit, I’ve gotten pretty fond of the GTO.” Jesse scanned the junkyard, though he didn’t know what Izzy might be looking for. “On the road, it’s the only place you have that’s a steady home.”
Her voice softened considerably on her next words: “Sure enough.”
Izzy unzipped the zipper of her coveralls and pulled off either sleeve as they continued to meander, switching the chalk and water bottle from one hand to the other as she did so. The dogs followed not too far behind, Rex sticking particularly close to Izzy’s legs. Jesse kept shooting glances at her, quiet in his uncertainty.
“So how’d you end up being the go-to mechanic for the hunter crowd?” he asked before thinking about it.
Izzy shrugged one deeply-tanned shoulder. “Sorta just... happened,” she admitted. “The hunter who helped me out sorta passed my name around. Money was tight fer’a few years of my life when I took this place over from my foster, and he knew it. They’re good people. I cut ‘em breaks where I can, an’ some of ‘em even know a thing or two themselves’n just need a place to sleep while they work, y’know? The guns’n ammo’n all that sorta came gradually, but I wanna help them.”
“It never makes you...worry?” he said, scuffing a bolt out of the way. “They have to bring a lot of bad shit to your door.”
Izzy shrugged again. “Nothin’ I can’t handle. Plus I’ve got a loyal customer base. Some shit comes bangin’ on my door that can handle the heat’a my gun and the silver in my knife, I can call any one of ‘em and they’ll be here inna hour or less.” She flashed a quick grin. “‘Specially my cowboy.”
Jesse’s stomach gave a guilty twist, thinking of Ben and Claire in the house. Family. That’s what Ben had called them. But right now, he felt so disconnected from everything. It was hard to believe it. He fell quiet as he followed her.
They remained silent for a few minutes while Izzy occasionally marked up the cars they found. It was a long time before she spoke.
“Ben ever tell ya how he knows me?” she asked, taking a sip from her water as she cast Jesse a sidelong look.
Frowning thoughtfully, Jesse shook his head. Izzy chuckled.
“S’pose he wouldn’t. He keeps a lot of himself to himself.”
Izzy stuck the chalk in her pocket, finding a nearby car to lean against as her eyes drifted up to the tall stranger. Rex and Shelby, following their master’s lead, flopped on the dusty ground not too far from her feet.
“He musta been... twenty, maybe? Workin’ a were job not too far from here. But see, most jobs in the area, I tend to do ‘em so’s not to pull people away from the work that’s to be done elsewhere. I’m closer, I’m fast, most’a the stuff that hits the papers is cleared up inna day or two, but this were was a tricky sonuvabitch. Nearly mauled our boy.” She looked off to the side for a moment, sipping at her water again. “I had to clean him up some. He had a bit of a fever for two, maybe three days. Almost ran right out my door sayin’ he was fine, thank-you for your help, et cetera, but I wouldn’t have it. So I went to snoopin’ a bit, just to know if I needed to call somebody an’ let ‘em know he was safe, et cetera, but the boy’s barely got a lick’a shit in his trunk for weapons, all his clothes are damn near threadbare, an’ when he’d got his shirt off he was this skinny, bony li’l thing. It was no wonder the were nearly ate him for lunch.”
Jesse’s expression tightened with long-late concern, but Izzy laughed lightly at the memory. Obviously Ben was a very, very different person now. “I reckon he’d only just started out, the way he ran in there half-cocked, tryin’n t’be the hero. So I stuck his keys in my lockbox and made him sit the hell down for a coupl’a days, ran him through some tips to keep from gettin’ himself killed. Days stretched on to weeks, though.” Her smile leaned to the side, wide and fond. “Tell ya the truth, I think he might’a had a li’l crush on me and didn’t wanna go.”
Jesse’s smile quirked, though with more levels of amusement than Izzy’s. “Well that’s not much of a surprise.”
For the first time since they got to talking, a hint of color grazed Izzy’s cheeks. She hid it in a gulp from her water bottle. “But come the end of the third month, he was itching to get out the door. He’d caught wiff’a some case that he wanted to do, God knows what, and I finally tossed him back his keys’n let him go. He didn’t stay gone for long, though. I see him a coupl’a times a year, for supplies or some place to crash on his way somewhere, maybe a part or two for the Camaro. I was a little surprised not to see it; he loved that car.”
With a shake of his head, Jesse said, “Never saw it. It was gone before I met them.”
Izzy nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense he’d ditch it, though, if he’s traveling with the both of you. Though...” her smile quirked up a bit again. “That’s quite a commitment for any man, I think, givin’ up your car. Means he’s plannin’ to stick around.”
Out of nowhere, Jesse’s throat swelled up and he had to look away. When he felt more in place, he managed to say, “Yeah. Like I said, he got rid of it before I was there.”
When he looked back at her he found Izzy’s head tilted at him a little, her deep brown eyes searching his face. Then her lips quirked slightly, something of knowingness crossing her expression.
“So what’s your story?” she asked, taking the conversation in another direction.
It was like someone put Jesse’s brain on pause. He stared at her before forcing a laugh. “Well, I guess I’m like Ben; I like keeping things to myself.”
“That mean all’s it takes is’a bit’a whiskey to get it outta ya?” she countered, brows arching playfully as her eyes briefly looked him up and over.
His posture eased at the look. He shrugged. “Might not get the story, but you’ll get something good.”
Izzy laughed lightly, running her hand over her hair. Somehow, the more she talked to him, the more she found him charming. He reminded her a little of Ben when she first met him, flirting with her so shamelessly and with unbelievable lines. It was cute.
“I would never hear the end of it from him if I let one’a his friends see the color of my sheets before he ever got to,” she said, laughter still brightening her voice.
“Doesn’t have to be in your bed,” Jesse said, giving her a wink.
Again she laughed, although this one was a touch warmer. “Now you sound like my cowboy. Careful, there.”
He laughed back, much more at ease. “That is definitely the first time I have ever been compared to a cowboy.”
Izzy tilted her head back, looking up at the sky. “That’s just what I call him. My... I dunno, boyfriend? It’s hard to put labels on hunters. But he’s Texan, and he’s got himself a mighty big belt buckle, and the name sorta stuck.” Her grin all but split her cheeks. “I can tell he likes it because he blushes like a li’l girl every time I say it. Guess I got’a thing for boys who can say my name pretty.”
Suddenly in such comfortable territory, Jesse sidled up a little closer to her, though he got another unwelcome wumph from Rex. “I’ll be sure and say your name a lot then, Izzy.”
Izzy’s head turned to look at him, just a flicker of surprise in her eyes at his sudden closeness. That same earlier color brightened her cheeks again, only this time it stayed.
“Isobel,” she said. “Izzy’s my short name. He calls me Bel, though.” Her head tipped back again and she laughed a little, covering her eyes with her arm. “Why am I tellin’ you this?”
He grinned, though his expression hesitated, his eyes glancing toward the house. But this was harmless. Besides, how jealous could they get, when it was already the three of them? “Because you miss someone calling you Isobel.”
The moment he said it, her frame briefly tensed up and the smile hidden under her arm faded off. But when she pulled her arm away, her expression wasn’t angry; it was a little sad.
“Yeah,” she said softly, rolling her lips and wetting them before she looked at him. “I do.”
Realizing he’d said the wrong thing, Jesse’s expression fell. “Sorry. I’ll stop and we can get back to--”
But he didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence; Izzy grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him down hard before she pressed her mouth soundly against his. Eyes wide, Jesse gave a muffled cry of surprise before deeper instincts kicked in. He clapped a hand behind Izzy’s neck as his tongue thrust past her lips. He lost himself in the frenzy of it, the old familiar ease of being wanted rather than needed or loved. It was simple, and his world narrowed on that fact.
Izzy pushed her hands into his hair, holding his head steady as she met his kiss with vigorous enthusiasm and pressed the length of her frame into his. While it was true that she hadn’t heard from Jed in four days, she hadn’t seen him in even longer, and her body yearned for the press of another’s. It was easy to pretend that the man kissing her was hers -- they were nearly the same build, their mouths both willing and their hair short -- but the more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt.
You don’t have to go the full way, her mind tried to rationalize. But she wanted to, came the immediate counter argument. Then you don’t need to look him in the face. He probably won’t even think twice to ask about it.
That seemed to be all the argument she needed, as a small, needy noise was swallowed up between their lips. The noise sent an unexpected pit of warmth to the center of him, and he found himself pushing her back until he found a car to press her against. The friction was amazing and he groaned back, shifting down to pull one of her legs up for better access.
Two layers of clothing all but blocked anything outside of the pressure, and as he ground against her Izzy found her frustration quickly coming to a boiling point. She needed more than pressure.
“My, but you’re a great kisser,” she said against his mouth, her words warm like honey. “How good are ya at massages? I could really use one right now.”
The request took a moment to make it to Jesse’s brain, and even then he didn’t quite understand it. “Yeah. Sure,” he said, a little breathless. “I guess I’m alright.”
Izzy moved her mouth to his neck, nipping her way up to his ear as she spoke in a low murmur into it: “How ‘bout you do my shoulders and back, and after I’ll let you fuck me?”
Taking a sharp breath, reality slipped into Jesse’s brain and he hesitated. A quick, mindless snog was one thing. Going further, however, would probably just add to the guilt that twisted in his stomach whenever he was in the same room as Ben and Claire. They’d never talked about what went and what didn’t in their relationship, but he knew this would be crossing a line for both of them. No matter how anti-intuitive it was to deny a writhing, needy woman pressed against him.
“We shouldn’t,” he breathed. “Ben... It might make things weird.”
She hadn’t expect that answer, given how quick he’d been to kiss her back, but it was enough to quiet some of the fire racing through her veins. Not by much, though.
“Just the massage, then?” she asked, pulling back a bit so she could kiss him again, albeit briefly. “Much more innocent.” One of her hands drifted down his front, settling on his groin. “If you’re already taken, I get it. I won’t make you do anything you’ll regret.”
Her touch sent a quiver through him and he swallowed. She was right, after all. It was much more innocent. Besides, the first time he and Ben had been together, it was with other people. This fell into that same moral gray area, right?
“Yeah. Alright,” he said, his hands drifting to her shoulders.
Izzy kissed him again with the same crushing frenzy as before, thinking what was needed to do things right. All his earlier flirtiness seemed to have fizzled right out of him, and she had a pretty good idea why, but damned if she wasn’t going to get that massage at the very least. Maybe some more of that excellent mouth of his too, if she pressed her luck.
“Go pull the main door on the garage down and lock it. I’ll come ‘round the side inna sec. Gotta get something real quick,” she told him, her voice warm as she kissed him brief and chastely before slipping out from beneath his frame.
His body still humming, Jesse headed back towards the garage. It wasn’t until he reached up to pull the door closed, his eyes falling on the house, that he stopped.
It wasn’t innocent. You don’t lock the doors on something innocent. And as for regret, hard fingers of guilt were already closing around his stomach. Yes, things had been hard lately. Yes, it would be nice to lose himself in someone, to forget these things were complicated. But that didn’t change the fact, and he would have to face Ben and Claire eventually. How could he tell them he was theirs and then do something like this.
He lowered his hands. Of course now he had to tell Izzy no. He’d never been good at that.
“Shit.” He slid behind the lip of the garage, as though hiding would make things easier. ...Which it would. Not being there when she got back would be a pretty clear No. His mind darted through options and he finally settled on the guest bathroom. That way he wouldn’t risk running into Izzy.
Biting his lip, and feeling yet another twinge of guilt, he disappeared from the garage.
***
It’d been at least a week since he’d cleaned the guns, and with Claire napping and Jesse off in the yard with Izzy, now seemed as good a time as any. Ben worked with a quiet efficiency, cleaning each individual piece with his hand tools before he oiled them up and reassembled them. With two sets of guns and a few extra pieces they’d picked up along the way for Jesse’s use it was proving to be a much longer job than he anticipated though, but Ben didn’t mind.
His head rose when he heard the door open, watching Izzy as she moved with purpose toward her bedroom. Her face was a little flushed. He frowned some, tracking her with his eyes before she moved out of his field of vision, returning a moment later.
“Everything all right?” he asked when she came through the living room again. The dogs very nearly tripped over themselves trying to follow her, and Izzy nearly tripped over them when she came to a sudden stop to look at him, flashing him a quick smile.
“Yeah, just came to get my hand lotion. There isn’t any in the garage,” she said by way of clarification. His brows rose slightly but he didn’t say anything, letting her run off again. He knew she liked to moisturize her hands after using the degreasing soap - a trick he picked up from her when he started to notice the positive difference - but with Jesse out there, Ben couldn’t deny where his mind went. He frowned again, dropping his eyes back to the gun he had been partway through finishing.
It wasn’t a minute before the bathroom door opened and Jesse peeped out. His face went instantly red when he saw Ben, but he stepped out. “You hungry?” he blurted. “I was going to go to the kitchen, fix something, and I figured, if you wanted something.”
Ben blinked in surprise at Jesse’s sudden appearance. “Weren’t you just--” but then it hit him: He’d zapped in. Ben’s brow pinched, both at the realization and Jesse’s demeanor. “Nevermind. No, I’m kinda up to my elbows here.”
Despite the open getaway, Jesse hesitated. He didn’t like Ben’s expression. “I had to take a piss real quick. Got caught up exploring the yard,” he explained.
“You should be a bit more careful,” Ben said without looking up. He aimed the gun off to the floor and squeezed the trigger, hearing a resounding click. It was just a shy too slow, though, and he started to tweak with it. “Izzy doesn’t know.”
Jesse tensed. “Doesn’t know what?”
Ben lifted his eyes again and looked at him, confused at the question. “Any of it? But specifically what you can do. What’d you think I meant?”
The blush came back to Jesse’s face. “Oh. I thought you meant us. The three-- Never mind. Where’s Claire?”
“Sleeping,” Ben said slowly, his eyes drifting off to the front door before looking back at Jesse again. He had a feeling he was missing something, especially with Jesse’s answer. It reminded him yet again how they’d never really talked about what they were seriously. Really oughta do that... he mused.
Jesse didn’t miss Ben’s look, and it made his chest feel like stone. There was too much he was keeping to himself, too much guilt building inside him. It was going to burst if he didn’t release something. “I kissed Izzy.”
Ben blinked, feeling his stomach flip over. Oh... A hundred different things came rushing through his head at once, the loudest being ‘why,’ but a small part of him wasn’t sure he could handle the answer. More importantly, when he thought of Izzy’s reply to his question in the living room only moments ago, he wondered why she’d lied to him. But then, why would she feel the need to tell him? She didn’t know it was his business. It was a lot to process.
The silence was a slow knife in Jesse’s stomach. “I’m...” But he couldn’t say he was sorry. Not unless he knew Ben expected an apology. Back in Vegas Ben had said he thought Jesse had been out fucking. Not like it was something he wanted Jesse to do, but something expected. How could he apologize for something if it was what Ben thought he would do?
“Technically she kissed me,” he put in, trying to fill the empty room. “We’d been flirting, and I guess it got carried away, and she wanted more, but I...” Jesse’s eyes didn’t leave Ben, a little wide and desperate. He just wanted to know it was the right choice.
“But you what?” Ben prompted, putting the gun down as he met Jesse’s panicking gaze, still frowning.
Jesse swallowed. “I came back here.”
Ben’s jaw worked silently for a moment. The complicated things rolling around in his stomach and Jesse’s obvious guilt spoke in volumes, but putting those things into actual words was clearly not going to be easy. You can’t be mad at him when you’re not even sure what you are, he told himself, letting out a sigh and running a hand through his hair.
“C’mere. Sit down. Please,” he said quietly.
Stomach twisting, Jesse obeyed, though he tensed on the edge of the sofa. He’d expected Ben to shrug it off, and hoped that he’d be mad. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this reaction.
“That was a real dick thing to do,” Ben said flatly. His eyes lowered as he chewed on his lower lip. “But... you feel bad about it. And it’s been done, so... let’s just leave it, yeah?”
Jesse’s eyes lowered to the floor between them. It was strange, feeling like he was floating off connected to nothing when he knew the sofa and floor were just under him. “Yeah. Alright.” And, because at least he felt it might be justified now, he added, “I’m sorry.”
Ben ran a hand through his hair again, the twist in his stomach coming back. “Good. Because I’m pretty sure if it’d been the reverse, you wouldda shouted at me. Keep that in mind.” He brought his eyes up to look at Jesse, with his head slightly bowed and his eyes avoidant.
“I know defining what the three of us has is kinda hard, given everything sounds ridiculously hipster and nowhere near what it actually is, but just know that I don’t wanna be with anyone else but you and Claire. And if you...” he swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “If you wanna see other people too, I’m not okay with that.”
It was odd, how hearing the constraint made the tension ease out of Jesse’s shoulders. He finally looked up, nodding. “I don’t want to see other people. Izzy... just sort of happened. But I’ll be more aware next time.”
“Okay.” Ben leaned back against the chair, and for a moment silence stretched on between them, but then he snickered and shook his head. “God, that’s not even fair. I spent weeks trying to get her to kiss me.”
A smile quirked on Jesse’s lips. “Yeah, she told me. But you were just some punk kid. Hard to compete with me.”
“Thanks,” Ben snorted, just a flicker of insecurity registering in his eyes.
Jesse caught it, though, reaching out to chuck Ben under the chin. “Now, though, the only thing keeping her from jumping your bones is Claire. She probably figured if she couldn’t have you, she could at least have me.”
That brought some color to his cheeks, but the tension just beneath his skin fizzled out. “She really kissed you first? And you weren’t--” he made a vague gesture with his hand.
Jesse’s smile evaporated. “I... I don’t think so.”
Ben caught the look, and quickly plucked the first thing he could out of his head to try and ease over the fumble: “Man, she must be desperate then.”
Even though he gave a laugh, Jesse’s expression was somewhat distant. He inwardly replayed the whole discourse with Izzy in his head, trying to find any moments he might have crossed that line. “She...she did say she was really missing her cowboy. And that I reminded her of him. So I guess she is.”
Whatever good humor was left in Ben faded. Even the attempt at being funny had fallen short. Man, I’m getting kinda crappy at this.
“Guess that thing about older chicks being up for anything isn’t an urban legend after all,” he said, cracking a half smile. “I’ll have to remember that when you and Claire ditch me someday.”
Jesse’s eyes snapped into focus on him and he gave a smirk. “Shut up, we’d never do that,” he said, ruffling his hair fondly. But he pulled his hand back with a slight frown, rubbing his fingers together. “Ugh. What’ve you got in your hair?”
Ben blinked, confused, then looked down at his hands. A flush of embarrassment streaked across his cheeks.
“Dammit, it’s gun oil.”
Giving a snort, Jesse ran his filmy finger down Ben’s cheek. “You’re always so fucking dirty.”
That only made the flush burn hotter. “Shut up, it’s a tick.”
“Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Jesse said with a grin. “I like dirty.”
The words, coupled with the tone and Jesse’s grin, was enough to take the fire out of his face and spread it through the rest of Ben’s body. He ducked his head and reached for the last rag that was still clean and dry, wringing it with his hands to get the oil off.
“So I should go roll around in the yard a bit then?” Ben offered, snickering.
“Only if I’m there rolling with you. Which might be a bit awkward if Izzy or the dogs came along,” Jesse added, giving him a wink.
“You keep talking like that, I’m gonna drag you into the laundry room,” Ben warned, warmth in his words.
Jesse quirked his eyebrow. “If you’re saying that as a threat, sorry to say, it’s not much incentive for me to stop.”
“Oh, not a threat,” the younger man grinned, all sunny and dimpled. “It’s a promise.”
There was a lock on that door, he remembered. And if they turned the dryer on, even empty, it would be noisy enough to block out any sounds they made. The thoughts were already getting his blood pumping.
“Yeah?” Jesse said, briefly biting his bottom lip. “You and I going to get the laundry room all dirty?”
Ben stood, resisting the urge to wipe his hands on his jeans as he moved around the sofa and coffee table, already heading in that direction. He threw a grin over his shoulder at him. Jesse was instantly on his feet. Getting all hot and bothered with Izzy paled in comparison to the heat coursing through him now. The whole thing between him and Ben and Claire might be complicated, but it was worth it.
***
Izzy couldn’t go a minute without feeling a pleasant hit of deja vu. Although Ben was quite a bit healthier and his movements more assured, his quirks and voice and laugh were still that same mauled kid she’d met years ago. She couldn’t help glancing at him every now and then as they worked on the GTO, which was looking more and more like a real car.
“I never would have pegged you for partnering up,” she said, wiping her hands on the rag at her waist. “You had such a damn independent streak when I met you.”
Out of habit, Ben pulled the edge of his shirt up to his face and rubbed at the grime that had started collecting on his cheeks. He didn’t have coveralls that fit anymore, not by a long shot, and had to settle instead on a raggedy pair of jeans and the shirt he wore when he’d run out of clean clothes. There were holes in at least five places, and the neck hem had been ripped clean off, but it did the job.
“Felt right,” he said distractedly from beneath the car, his voice refracted back to him from the metal parts mere inches away from his face.
Izzy cocked her head to the side but didn’t comment, working in silence for a bit. Then, “Claire must be something special, getting you to give up that car.”
Ben chuckled, having expected the veiled question for a couple days now. Jesse had implied a few things when he’d told him what had gone down between them, and he’d caught a few meaningful looks from Izzy during meal clean-up or when Claire had occasionally stuck her head into the garage to check their progress. It wasn’t like he hid his feelings; he hid everything from everybody nearly every day of his life, and he wasn’t about to hide them in the company of trusted friends. Still, he found himself at a loss on how best to say what was inside his head and heart, especially after the talk he’d had with Jesse.
“They both are,” he said after a long pause.
Looking down at him, there was a thoughtful pause before Izzy leaned back over the engine. “Well I’m glad you’ve found a situation that makes you happy, darlin’.”
Ben blinked, then stuck his heel out beneath the roller and pushed himself out enough to be visible. He stared at her.
“That’s it? Really?”
Izzy gave a laugh, re-placing the oil cap. “You expected a lecture? Or you just wanted to shock me? I’m not your mom. Besides, hunters never seem to go about things like regular people.” Straightening, she leaned her hip on the car, smiling down at him. “I can’t really define what I got; why should I expect different from you?”
Ben watched her for a moment with a wry sort of grin on his face, unable to stop the little double-beat in his chest, filled with fondness and affection for his friend. He pushed himself back beneath the car again, though several different statements struggled for dominance in his head.
“What’d I say about comparing yourself to my mom?” he settled on, allowing a fuller grin up at the underside of the GTO.
“You’re getting plenty of tail as it is, darlin’. Far as you’re concerned, mine’s mom-tail,” she teased. Ben made a disgusted noise, knocking his foot against her ankle.
“Could always invite you into our little club,” he shot back. “Secret handshake and everything.”
Biting back her first response, Izzy said, “Whatever you kids get up to is your business; I’ll pass.”
In spite of his own tease, Ben couldn’t ignore the immediate rush of mixed feelings in his chest. He bit his lip, hands coming down from where they’d been reaching into the gears above him. He swallowed.
“Jesse told me what happened, you know.” He was careful to keep the accusation out of his voice, as well as the hurt. “Why’d you lie to me?”
Though her smile faded, Izzy didn’t seem too fazed by the question. “No offense, darlin’, but if you want me to tell you each time I’m about to fool around with a hunter, things are going to get awkward quick.”
Ben closed his eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath before rolling out again, though he didn’t stand up. He just looked at her, frowning a little.
“He’s my...” he started, then stalled as he tried to find a word for what Jesse was. Boyfriend just sounded wrong; while it held the exclusivity he wanted the title to have, it wasn’t a purely exclusive situation with Claire involved. “We’re partners. And you’re my friend. I don’t want to have you or him hating each other because of something and then I’m stuck having to pick between you, y’know? ‘Least you couldda done is told me you were fixing to tap that.” So I could have freaked out properly, he added inside his head.
“You mean in the five seconds I saw you?” she said wryly, stepping back to look down at him. “I didn’t know I was fixing to tap that until I kissed him, and since I didn’t know he was anything more’n an extra body in the car to you, I didn’t know it was your business. But Jesse was gone when I got back, so I got a pretty good hint he was stuck on you.”
Ben felt a traitorous blush immediately break across his cheeks. He couldn’t find it in him to argue her points, though he felt that hint of nagging worry about Jesse maybe shrouding the truth on who kissed who first immediately fade.
“Besides, I hear you have a boyfriend anyway,” Ben pointed out, trying to get away from the awkwardness. “What’s all that about?”
She gave a snort of a laugh. “I have a cowboy. Any other labels are up in the air.”
Ben leered at her. “So I take it you go to the rodeo often, then?”
Smiling, she gave a loud sigh. “Not nearly enough.”
It took everything in him not to laugh outright at her quip, and in spite of everything he still somehow managed to conjure up the mental image, complete with some stranger with a cowboy hat hiding his face. Ben pushed himself under the car again to keep her from seeing his expression.
“Tramp,” he tossed back. “Hand me the number four socket, wouldja?”
“Pot kettle black, Mr. I’m-banging-two-people-at-the-same-time,” she scoffed, even as she handed the wrench over.
“We have a profound bond,” came the amused reply.
***
Summer nights in Maryland weren’t much different than the summer nights in Alabama, or any other southern state. Sure, the humidity was slightly less oppressive: little summer squalls didn’t come and go every fifteen minutes here, and that was a plus--but the heat was the same. Claire could hear the crickets out in Izzy’s junk yard singing away as the twilight melted into a rich, velvet navy blue. Lightning bugs blinked in the distance, disappearing in the slivers of light that came from the garage, where Ben and their host were working on making the GTO not look like it’d recently rolled off a cliff.
The sound of water shutting off clued her in to the whereabouts of the only other occupant in the house. She and Jesse had always had a different dynamic than what she shared with Ben. Though her reasons for attachment to the cambion were stitched slightly different than with the other member of their hard-to-define relationship, that didn’t mean she loved him any less. It did, however, make certain things a little more difficult for Claire to define or understand. Also, in light of the recent angel-induced vision of the future, there was some tension between them that Claire didn’t know what to do with. She could sense it from him--a fear she understood, but couldn’t soothe, and that in turn frightened her as well. It was hard to shake the vision; the look in the eyes of the older-version of him, and everything she knew he’d done.
Though as much as it frightened her, it also firmly resolved how in love she was with the Jesse she had here and now.
She found him with his back to her, sitting on the edge of the bed after an obvious shower. Without a word, her knee creased the bed spread as her weight settled behind him, a light brush of her fingers traced his neck to his shoulder and down his spine, making his back stiffen. She pressed her lips to the other shoulder, then rested her chin there, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile. He smiled back, but it was hesitant. It shouldn’t be this way. He should melt easily into her touch, and automatically have something flip or flirtatious to say that would make her smile wider. Instead he kept remembering how scared and frantic she’d looked as she held his face in her hands, and the promise he made that he might have already broken.
“Hi,” he said, quieter than he meant to be.
Though his expression was difficult to read in depth, that tension was still there. Claire’s stomach tightened; her automatic reaction was to drape her arms around his chest and squeeze him in, her nose nuzzling in close to his jaw.
“Have I told you how proud I am of you?” she hushed against his neck, ignoring the tickle of her hair as it fell from her shoulder around to his.
Guilt settled like marbles in his stomach. He gave a shrug. “Any reason why? All I did was take a shower, and I’ve been doing that a while now.” The comment pulled a genuine chuckle out of Claire, her nod and smile pressed into his still warm skin.
“No wonder you’re so good at it,” she teased a little, leaning back a bit so she wasn’t pressing him off the bed, but her thin top still clung to the moisture on his back.
He let out a breath, his hand resting on her arm, and thought about what nightmares had been like for him. The one thing he’d wanted most was someone there, some sort of comfort to bring him back to reality. And Claire was looking for that from him. Turning his head, he nuzzled the side of her head before pressing a kiss to her temple. Claire’s eyes closed with the warm gesture; she felt the knot in her stomach shift and loosen, but another tightened in her chest.
“I mean it, though,” she continued on after a moment of quiet. She squeezed him once more, finding the desire to be closer unsatisfied until she was basically sharing the same space. She’d never been so clingy. Part of her was uncomfortable with it, but she didn’t care; at the moment, his warmth and his realness was everything she needed. “You’ve come a long way, and it hasn’t been easy. I’m proud to be next to you.”
Jesse tried to swallow but couldn’t. There was so much he wasn’t telling her, that he was too afraid to tell her. He didn’t know how to handle her words. Instead, he shifted away from them. “What did I do? In the dream,” he asked quietly.
Claire tensed inside, but tried her best not to show the reaction outwardly. Her grip on him got a little tighter, and a sigh replaced words that she knew she didn’t want to say. He deserves to know came a voice in her head, but even that was uncertain.
She pressed her lips to his shoulder briefly, then breathed through her words. “Are you sure you want me to answer that?”
“No,” he said honestly, his hand tightening on her arm. “But if I know, then maybe I’ll know how to stop it from happening.” Or know if some of it already happened.
“There’s a lot I don’t know--” It was a while before Claire could say anything, and even as she started, she was still second guessing herself. “He dropped me more than a decade into the supposed ‘future’...” her voice trailed off a bit after tightening, tensing with the memory of having to play catch up with Amitiel’s sick little ‘life lesson’. Closing her eyes, she fought the sick feeling in her stomach. “By then, everything had already happened. At some point, you left us--I don’t know why.” Another sigh rolled from her lips. This one lightly quivered. “From there, everything went to Hell.”
Jesse frowned, turning towards her as best he could in her tight embrace. “I would never leave you.” His thoughts jumped to his bargain with the demon. “Not for real, and not forever.”
Claire loosened her grip so he could twist around. The look on his face was the brick wall on which a lot of her thoughts crashed; it was sincere, but also contained a hint of desperation she couldn’t really place. Her lips pressed together; her unwitting show of concern. She touched his face and traced his cheek with her thumb before leaning in for a gentle, but needed kiss, which he softly met. His arms slid around her as he pulled away from the kiss, settling for holding her close.
“I don’t want to ever see you afraid of me again,” he said.
Something about the underlying truth in those words sent a cold shock through her. She hadn’t addressed her own feelings that directly, but there it was, all laid out. She’d been scared when she came out of that dream--and Jesse had seen right into it. Swallowing lightly, she rested her cheek on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her hands idly roamed his back; Claire was focusing on everything that he was, here and now, forcing the image of the older him as far out of her head as possible.
“S’just a dream,” she murmured finally, squeezing him close and breathing him in.
“It is. Doesn’t keep them from sucking, though,” he added, closing his eyes to better take in the feel of her. After a moment, he added, “You scared me, too. In one of my dreams. But I know I’m safe with you.”
She pulled back just enough to focus on Jesse’s face, a gentle but genuine smile on hers. Rather than cheapen the instant comfort that confession gave her with more words that were already conveyed on her expression, Claire quirked teasing brow, resting her forehead on his. “Among other things,” she promised, a little extra warmth in her voice.
He smiled, biting his bottom lip, though nothing could quite convey the sheer surge of adoration he felt for her. “Yeah? What things?”
“Oh, let’s see,” she grinned, so close that she brushed his lips in the process. “Constantly scrutinized? I haven’t worn out the bad-ass-teacher thing yet, have I?”
“No,” he said, his hand slipping down her back. “Still love your bad ass.” She snickered low and warm under her breath, her shoulders pulled back as a smooth reflex to the graze of his hand.
“S’good to know,” she said, sitting back a bit so she could trace his bare chest with her fingertips, though her eyes stayed hotly trained on his. “Wouldn’t want you to get bored.”
He chuckled even as he quivered under her touch. “Being bored is the last thing I have to worry about with you.” Pause. “Unless you’re making me do research.”
“Oh, you’ll just have to suck that part up,” she purred, her grin tilting as she teased his skin with a little more of her nails. “But I’ll make up for it.”
Hissing in an appreciative breath, Jesse dipped his head, kissing along her neck. “Guess I can live with that,” he said, sliding a thumb up under the hem of her shirt. Claire lifted her chin, her belly pulled in with a slow inhale that put heat in her voice.
“You guess?” she teased, punctuating the cottony words with a playful nipple-pinch.
He came just short of squealing. “Alright, alright, I can live with it. Taskmaster.”
Claire’s giggle was warm as his hands, still fresh from the shower. Her own slid around his muscled torso around to the back, bringing her lips close to his chin. “Taskmaster?” She couldn’t help it. “S’that a kinky nickname or a computer program?”
A blush rose to Jesse’s cheeks and he leaned down to give her bottom lip a nip. “You prefer something like bossypants?” Claire snerked, her grin lengthening.
“Maybe,” she said, smoothly gliding the rest of the way across his lap. “But guess who’s not wearing bossypanties.” It was late, and sleeping-shorts were comfortable in this heat. Laundry day also had impeccable timing.
Giving a happy and needy little growl, he grabbed her thighs and rolled her, pinning her to the bed. “Have I told you I love you, my dirty girl?” Claire puffed the pale hair away after it sprawled across her eyes, but her crooked grin couldn’t be contained for long. She gave his hips a good, solid squeeze with her thighs, dragging her legs on the inside of his, mussing the towel draped around them.
“I think so, but you can remind me.”
“Mm, I love you,” he said, taking her mouth in a kiss. His hand tugged at her shirt, baring her stomach. “I love how you always surprise me...” He cupped her breast. “I love how you fit to me...” Claire purred out a breath and bent to the touch. Her eyes were already a bit hooded, but locked on Jesse’s face. The gravel quality in his voice shaped into those words stirred inside her. Familiar and craved, innocent in their own way; she didn’t want it to stop.
“Keep going,” she encouraged, lifting her head off the covers to kiss slowly along his neck.
***
The doorknob suddenly twisted, but the figure sliding in was a lot more subtle Ben had heard the murmuring noises at the door as he’d approached, having seen neither Claire nor Jesse lingering anywhere in the house and knowing that usually only meant one thing. He’d thought briefly of letting them alone to have some time together -- it was only fair, after all -- but then found himself wondering why he had to be absent for that to take place. They could be together without him participating.
Plus, it was hot. He knew for a fact that Jesse had a kink about being watched, and it wasn’t often that he got to really take pleasure in looking at either of them; usually, his body was too actively involved in whatever it was they were all doing. Making sure to lock the door behind him, he leaned back against it and turned his eyes to them, a slow but silent smile on his face.
His hand riding Claire through the orgasm, and his eyes on every inch of her gorgeous body as he made it writhe, it was a moment before Jesse noticed the shadow in the corner of his eye that hadn’t been there before. When he looked up and met Ben’s gaze, he felt his whole body flush warm with pleasure, need, and a smidgen of embarrassment.
“Looks like we have a viewer, Claire,” he said, his hand slowing but not withdrawing from her. The apples of her cheeks flushed and tingling, Claire’s breaths were still hard and ridden by her voice, even on her way down. Jesse’s voice cut through the haze, though, and she opened her eyes, following his gaze to a point behind her. In her lingering fog, she smiled at Ben, feeling a fever suddenly spread through her face. Her chuckle was hot and breathless, and melted into another moan.
“Looks like I missed the previews,” Ben murmured, his hand coming down to press against his groin. “Damn. Any chance for a rewind, or is this a one-time playthrough?”
His gaze lingering a moment on Ben’s hand, Jesse said, “I told Claire she got to take charge after that one, so what happens is up to her.”
Ben nodded, moving over to the nearby chair by the desk and turning it so he could watch better, his legs settling wide apart on the wood floor.
“Right then. Don’t mind me...”
***
The service had been excellent, as was to be expected. Izzy loved her church, from Bible study to meet and greet and all the parts between. The fellowship kept her grounded and sane during the long bouts of no-contact with the world. Junkyard work was a lot less frequented those days as traditional cars started fizzling off the market to be replaced by streamlined electric and fuel cell cars. Diesel and gasoline was still the norm, but filling stations typically only kept one or two designated pumps anymore, and she still hadn’t gotten retrained to work on the higher-end cars yet. They were a lot less likely to fall apart, what with the Locust-systems most were equipped with. Cars damn near drove themselves.
That was okay, though. Izzy liked her client base, and the metal could still be melted down and sold. There was still work to be done and money to be made. And at the very least, there were still hunters who needed her help, like the blond sitting in the chair beside her, looking pensive as her thumbs traced back-and-forth paths over the ceramic coffee cup in her hands.
“Did you want me to getcha another cruller, darlin’?” Izzy asked, brushing a flyaway strand of dark brown hair back behind her ear. Like always, her hair had started to rebel against the product and bobby-pins she’d fixed it into, the braided bun slowly starting to come undone.
Claire was staring at something in her coffee, whether it was a reflection, a shadow, or a piece of something that’d floated into her cup, she didn’t care. For whatever the reason, her eyes had anchored onto it, letting her thoughts wonder to darker places spurred by the smell and sounds of church. She barely heard Izzy, only catching the term of endearment at the end. She broke contact with the thing in her brew, and offered her a distracted smile. “No, I’m good, thanks.”
Izzy hummed in thought, taking a sip from her own cup and letting the silence stretch a few beats between them. A few of her church acquaintances had came by at the beginning of meet and greet, but by now people had started to settle down at tables for longer chats. She usually was the one drifting around, but this time she had a duckling to watch over. The other churchgoers had sensed that and given her room.
“I know you don’t know me much,” Izzy said slowly, keeping her voice a little softer so as not to carry to the nearby ears all around them. “But I can’t help noticing that you’re travelin’ with two men, and that can’t be sittin’ well with your head all the time, darlin’. You’re more’n welcome to talk to me, even if I don’t know what it is that’s got you all wrapped up inside your headspace.”
Claire couldn’t help the tiny chuckle that bubbled up from her lungs. She shook her head lightly, bits of her pale hair coiling in the New England summer humidity. The thing was gone from her coffee. “Amen to that,” she commented passively, and took a drink. Izzy definitely nailed a few things on the head. Other things, though, were a lot more complicated.
“I appreciate it, really. I’m just not--” Claire sighed a little, letting her eyes roam around the parish members. She folded her lips between her teeth and sighed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to an actual service. Even longer that I actually went with someone.”
Izzy’s thin brows knitted slightly as she looked at the younger woman. Claire hadn’t dismissed her when she’d offered for her to come along that morning -- she’d asked if there was a Catholic service close by, and conveniently Izzy herself was Catholic -- so Claire’s words left her feeling a little uncertain. Was it a good thing or a bad thing, and did she press to learn the answer? It was obvious that the blonde was not a talker, but in Izzy’s opinion that didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t want to talk; it just meant she needed to be asked to.
“Did you enjoy yourself at least?” Izzy asked carefully. Claire pressed her lips together, but her expression was just as muddled as Izzy’s.
When she spoke, her voice fell considerably. “I wish I could say yes.” And she wished she could give the kind woman a better explanation than that, too, but Claire wasn’t keen on crossing that line. Even if Izzy was in their sort of circle, there was a lot behind the haunted look in Claire’s eyes. Izzy frowned a little, feeling something in her gut twist up. She put down the unfinished mug and stood, a hand resting on Claire’s shoulder.
“C’mon, let’s get outta here.”
The Sunday afternoon bar scene was, sadly, something Claire knew all about--and it didn’t seem to change from city to city. Some people went to diners, restaurants, or pancake houses for a good family brunch. Her family had been like that. Afterward, she got to know the other side of the crowd.
Still in the soft lilac sundress she’d worn to Izzy’s parish, Claire eased onto the counter stool after smoothing the skirt, and noted how familiar the scene was, regardless of never having set foot in this place before. Izzy smiled at the bartender and gave a little wave, and once she was finished mixing an order the inked-up pixie-woman sidled up in front of them.
“Hiya, Izzles. Howya been?”
“Same as always, Trish. Can we get two Hail Marys and two Devil’s Advocates?” Claire looked over at the other woman, suddenly grinning, however faintly.
Trish laughed, checking her wrist watch and saying, “Izzit Sunday already?” before she headed to the opposite end of the bar for clean glasses. Claire wrangled the chuckle in her throat and sat back a little straighter, facing Izzy as ‘Trish’ went to get their drinks.
“I’m sensing a good routine, here.”
“I’m set in my ways,” Izzy intoned with mock solemness, her eyes twinkling. Claire’s smile warmed a bit. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the bar and sighed, making the effort to release the tension in her shoulders caused by the hour and a half at Izzy’s church.
“One cannot live by food alone,” she commented, pleasantly referencing the alcohol they were about to be served. She swiveled her eyes back up to Izzy. “Thanks for the invite, but also sorry for not being the most lively company. Mass is a complicated thing, for me.”
“It’s a complicated thing for everyone, darlin’,” Izzy returned, one slender eyebrow arched as she side-eyed her. Trish returned with the drinks in record time, and Izzy immediately lifted the shooter in her hand.
“Bless us, Father, for we will sin.”
Claire couldn’t help the crack of a genuine grin across her face. She plucked the shot glass up from the bar and held it up beside the older woman’s. “It’s been way too long since my last ‘Confession’.” The glasses clinked, and she tossed hers back with a scant wince. The pepper vodka paired up with the Tabasco left a lingering fire in the back of her throat, but the first sip from the ruby-red cocktail cooled it immediately.