Who: Jane and Bunny Where: The Bar What: Complicated feelings and a bittersweet reunion When: August 4, around 4 PM
I've got all morning, I've got all year It's down in my pocket with the daylight folded there But I can't own her and I never will No I can't own her and that's a bitter pill
Jane was nervous. Very, very nervous. She had arrived early -- forty five minutes to be exact -- and proceeded to chug a beer to try to calm herself down. She contemplated ordering another but decided against it, choosing instead to shred the ever-loving piss out of the label of her empty soldier just to have something to do with her hands.
Meeting a friend she hadn’t seen in close to a year was enough to to send Jane’s anti-social anxieties into overdrive. Meeting a friend that she still had feelings for, when that friend was unerringly loyal to people that flirted with the wrong side of the law, was a whole other can of worms. Jane began to wonder if maybe this wasn’t a mistake. Would it be better if they simply texted every once and awhile and talked on the phone? Maybe if she glossed over any and all Hellhound talk and ignored her unrequited affection, Jane could learn to be happy with that. She was beginning to think she should bolt when she looked up to find Bunny standing in the doorway.
She looked like some kind of beautiful, woodland fairy; bright eyes, smooth skin, shining hair. Jane felt her breath hitch in her throat and she held up her hand, catching her friend’s eye and receiving a wave in return. She stood up as Bunny approached and Jane knew she had been a fool to think her tender feelings for Bunny would simply melt away with time and effort but it was too late to back out now.
“Hey,” Jane said, her weight shifting from one foot and then the other. She didn’t know whether she should sit, hold out her hand to shake, or pull Bunny into an embrace so she simply stood there awkwardly.
It seemed far too many steps lay between the door and Jane. Too many steps and too many tables to wind in and out of along the way. Reaching her friend at last, Bunny grinned up at Jane, bubbling with joy and feeling as light-headed as the time she’d fallen off a tire swing and knocked all the wind out of her lungs. It was just so good to see her. True, there was an awkwardness that lay between them, visible all over Jane’s stance and her expression, but Bunny took it for what it was: a symptom of the fact that they hadn’t seen each other for so long and of the complicated mismatch of loyalties each of them held.
And she chose to ignore all of it.
“I’m sure glad to see you, Jane,” Bunny said simply, and wrapped her friend in a warm and enthusiastic hug. After this, anything else that needed to be said could be, but it was important to start things off on the right foot. And to express without reservation the fact that, no matter what, she did care about Jane. After a moment’s stiffness and hesitation, Jane returned Bunny’s embrace with undisguised and wholehearted fondness. So much time had passed and yet Bunny felt the same, smelled the same but Jane knew she couldn’t fool herself into thinking that things were the same, as much as she’d like to.
“I’m glad to see you, too,” Jane replied, squeezing Bunny tight. “You look great.”
After a moment, Bunny released Jane and stepped back again, still wearing the same broad smile. Jane returned it with an equally wide grin of her own, which was uncharacteristic of the cop even on her best days. Bunny settled into the chair that was not obviously already taken by Jane and gave a quick glance around the inside of The Bar. “I hope you haven’t been waiting on me too long. When I arrived I thought I might even be early, but I guess I was running a little slower than I thought I was.”
Jane still standing, shook her head, quick to squash any fretting on Bunny’s part.
“Not long,” Jane said, hastily scooping up the shredded remains of her beer label along with the empty bottle itself. “You are early. I just got here a little earlier is all.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Jane abhorred deception, even harmless white lies like this, but she wasn’t quite ready to admit that she’d been nervous enough to arrive almost an hour early of their agreed upon time.
“I was going to grab another beer,” Jane said, inclining her head to the empty bottle in her hand. A little liquid courage wouldn’t be remiss while they brushed away the cobwebs of their friendship. “Can I get you something? My treat.”
“I wouldn’t mind a beer too,” Bunny agreed, smiling up at Jane. It wasn’t until her friend turned and walked away toward the bar that she allowed the expression to shift, pursing her lips into a thoughtful line as she looked after Jane. Everything about being here together rang so familiar: a song crooning from within the jukebox, the muted hubbub of conversation carrying on around them, floorboards solid beneath her feet. It could have been days since the last time they had a drink together, instead of months. There was a sweetness to the feeling that time hadn't passed, but it was wistful and just out of reach.
By the time Jane returned Bunny had found a distraction, turning in her seat to watch out the window at one of the army’s patrol trucks rolling by. It was still a strange sight to see, for her. A novelty of their return to the rest of society. When Jane neared the table, though, she swiveled back toward the table.
“Thank you.” The bottle Jane handed her was cool to the touch and already starting to sweat. With a delighted smile, Bunny lifted it up and pressed the chilled glass against her cheek. “Oh, it feels nice. I missed the hydrant party the other day, and I've been thinking about it ever since. I'll bet this is nearly as good, though.”
Jane’s heart did a dumb little flip flop as she watched Bunny press the cool bottle against the flushed skin of her cheek and neck. She looked her own bottle, slipping a fingernail under the label to tear a strip away from the label. The nervous tick was enough to distract Jane into a more even-keeled train of thought.
Jane had heard about the impromptu hydrant part out in the LBJ district. It had attracted all manner of Austinites on the scorching day; even Jane had been tempted to hike out of her normal stomping grounds to enjoy a respite from the oppressive heat. In the end, she couldn’t justify being an officer of the law and taking advantage of the city’s loss of resources for her own enjoyment. Now, Jane knew, she’d made the correct decision. If Bunny hadn’t been there but wished to have been, it could be assumed there had been a good number of Hellhounds in attendance. Jane had to stomach sitting next to Bode Coldiron at the city council meetings but she wasn’t looking to hobnob with him or any of his packmates on her off hours. Bunny, being at the outskirts of the club as far as Jane could tell, was the exception to the rule. She was the exception to a lot of Jane’s rules.
“Heard about that.” Jane took a small pull from her beer. “Guess it’s a sign that Austin is a place on the rise. Can’t be a real city if you don’t see people beating the heat at a busted fire hydrant.” Jane paused, a thought occurring to her. Even if it wouldn’t have looked super great for to join the hydrant party, she’d been in the middle of a shift anyhow. It made her wonder why Bunny hadn’t been able to take advantage and what she’d been doing. Jane had absolutely no idea what Bunny did to occupy her days, or really, anything about her day to day life since she left the Capitol. What sort of friend didn’t know that? A shitty one, Jane chided herself. It was one of many oversights she intended to rectify.
“So what were you up to that you couldn’t go? Do you have a regular 9 to 5?”
Bunny shifted her bottle to rest against the opposite cheek, and grinned across the table at Jane. The more time went on, the more she felt herself relaxing again in the other woman's presence, remembering the things that has made them friendly in the first place.
“Before the other day, I always thought the hydrant thing only happened in movies. In Harlan we just went down to the river when it got hot like this.” Well, it never got hot quite like this in Harlan, but it had still been more than enough to drive a pack of teenagers down to the banks of Martin’s Fork -- at least until they put out an advisory against swimming in that water.
“Anyway, I wasn't working during the party. At least, not the whole time. What I'm doing right now is farming, if you can believe it. We've got some livestock out in the Greenbelt that I help care for, and I set up a greenhouse back at the tail end of the winter. It's really taking off, too; you ought to try some of what I'm growing. I'll bring you something next time.” The words ‘come and see’ had been resting right there on the tip of her tongue, but Bunny swallowed them back in time for ‘try’ instead. Showing her the greenhouse would mean bringing Jane out to the Park, and while she would be more than willing to try and make that happen, she couldn't be sure her friend would come anywhere near that place willingly.
“I kind of can’t believe it,” Jane replied with an incredulously goodnatured shake of her head. Realizing how that probably sounded, she reached out quickly and touched Bunny’s hand reassuringly. “Not that you wouldn’t make a great farmer, of course you would. I know damn well you could do anything you put your mind to. I just meant that crops are coming back at all. Six months ago there’s was nothing to Austin but salt and dust and s’mores clouds and now you’re growing all kinds of stuff and taking care of livestock. I’d love to test some of your wares, that’s sweet of you to offer, thank you.”
Being around Bunny always made the monosyllabic Jane more chatty than normal. There was something about her that made you immediately comfortable and able to open up passed what you’d normally allow yourself. Sure, they were only talking about corn or beans or whatever but the reasoning held true on most anything.
The chill was starting to go out of her bottle, or maybe her skin was just cooking to match it. Either way, Bunny moved the beer to mouth and took a sip. The taste was at once odd after nothing but moonshine for so long, but familiar enough that it brought back a dozen memories with it. “How about you? Are you still working with the same partner? I thought I heard something about how he'd been made Chief.”
“Joel, yeah, he’s Chief,” Jane echoed, pleased that tales of Joel’s promotion was well known even out in the Greenbelt. “But we’re still considered partners for the most part. He says it’s because we make a great team but I’m pretty sure it’s because I won’t suffer some of the dumb ass cops in my department.”
Last time Jane had discussed Joel with Bunny was when he had gone missing, kidnapped by the very government responsible for turning the city around from imploding on itself. So many things had changed since then but the one thing that still stayed the same was that Bunny’s fiance was still missing, whereas Joel had been returned for the most part safe and sound. It felt wrong not to mention him but Bunny knew Jane had done as much as she could to find any sign of the man and would have alerted her to any leads. Jane figured not bringing up his continued absence was one of the only kindnesses she could offer her friend so she left the subject unuttered.
“Actually, that reminds me,” Jane continued, moving to a different train of thought. “When I texted you last night, it was about getting together but not just about that.”
Bunny’s eyebrows raised slightly at this statement, but she didn’t interrupt. Something was clearly on her friend’s mind, and she didn’t even have a guess about what it could be. They’d been out of touch so long, the only thing she could even think of was the belongings of hers and Nate’s that had been left at the Capitol all those months ago, but somehow that didn’t feel likely. Whatever it was, though, Bunny took it as a good sign that Jane was open to talking to her about the subject.
Jane wound a weary hand through her long blond hair, blowing a few tendrils out of her face. She was probably venturing outside protocol to divulge what had happened at the station the night before but if she knew Bunny at all, her friend wouldn’t pass along or use the information Jane shared in confidence.
“One of the men responsible for attacking the resource depots showed up at the station last night,” Jane said, glancing around to make sure they weren’t in danger of being overheard. Even though there was no one in their direct vicinity, she drew closer to Bunny and spoke low under her breath anyway, just to be sure.
“He’s alive, but he didn’t exactly show up of his own volition. There was no indication who left him but what I can say is that he was certainly left for me, specifically, to find. You don’t think…” Jane trailed off. She avoided all direct reference to the Hellhounds when talking to Bunny if she could help it but this was a situation where inferences and innuendos wouldn’t swing it.
“Would one of the legit Hellhounds have left him for me?” Jane restrained herself from doing air quotes around ‘legit’. “I know the club proper and the APD aren’t BFF’s or anything but there’s that whole ‘the enemy of my enemy is friend’ thing. I dunno if maybe there was some talk around that bonfire of theirs…?”
“That’s strange,” Bunny murmured as she sat back in her chair, her mind already filling in the blanks of what Jane wasn’t saying about the state of the man who’d been left at the station. After a moment she looked down at her beer bottle and then reached over to place it on the tabletop. Her forehead wrinkled into a slight, thoughtful frown. She wanted to deny straight out that any of the Hellhounds would be involved in harming one of the men who’d gone rogue, but Bunny also knew that they were the kind of men who didn’t take betrayal lightly. Still, Bode had been trying so hard to bring the Hounds around to a lawful way of life, and she couldn't imagine him being okay with vigilantism.
“I can’t say I’ve heard anything about it before right this moment.” Relief flashed through her, quicker than a rabbit startled out of its hiding place, and Bunny was glad she could at least answer truthfully. It would have hurt something awful to be split between her loyalties. “The men have been out patrolling regularly to try and keep the renegades from causing too much more damage, but as far as I know anyone they've tracked down that way, it's all been done by whatever are the right channels. That's the best I could tell you.”
That said, she picked up her beer again, lifting it to her mouth like she would take another sip. On the way there, though, she paused, and tilted her head to look at Jane with a curious expression. “Why do you think it was left specifically for you? Or are you not allowed to say? Have you had anything to do with any of the patches in particular that makes you think they'd drop off someone for you like that?”
Jane gauged Bunny’s reaction. She knew she was predisposed to believe Bunny and think her truthful but even so, there was nothing in her friend’s reaction to lead Jane to believe she was misleading her. Even if Bunny was being completely transparent with her, she was right; there were things she’d have to keep confidential.
“Let’s just say it was made abundantly clear that I was the intended recipient,” Jane said with an apologetic shrug. It was probably as much as she could say without getting her ass handed to her for leaking information on an open case. “As for the patches, I’ve only really had direct contact with officers. Sat in on almost all of their interrogations back when they were locked up last year so I don't think any of them would feel warm-and-fuzzy enough about those days to send me a thank you gift. I only asked about them because they’re the only people I could see having as much of a hard on to get these guys behind bars as the APD.”
Jane chuckled. “Maybe I just have a secret admirer that knows what I like. Criminals delivered right to my door, just how I like ‘em.” She stopped, realizing how much she’d been babbling on. She’d been sort of lulled by Bunny’s kind eyes and familiar give and take that she’d kept yapping about all kinds of shit she hadn’t intended to say. She reached out to touch Bunny’s hand lightly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to talk so much shop. I’m just hard pressed to think of anyone I’ve gotten on the good side of lately so I figured while I was grasping at straws, I might as well pick your brain too. You were always good at making things seem clear to me somehow.” She pulled her hand back and curled it around her beer; a lifesaver to keep her from falling into the deep, murky waters of her strange and undefinable feelings for her very unavailable friend.
“Man, I miss talking to you. Shooting the shit. Talking about anything or nothing.” Sure, Jane could talk to Joel about almost everything - everything except her dealings with his daughter, of course. Mina, too, was an excellent person to turn to if Jane needed to talk - although she’d gone and make it awkward by accidentally hitting on her. So even if Jane had always carried a bit of a torch for sweet and gentle Hazel Dolan, she always felt like she could open up to her, no matter what. Jane cleared her throat. “You should come by and see my new place. You know, if you’re ever in the old neighborhood.”
“I'd like that a lot,” Bunny replied, smiling. Jane had pulled away too quickly for her to do anything but give her friend’s hand a brief, soft squeeze of affection. Now she reached for her beer bottle again, noting as her fingers wrapped around it that the glass had warmed while they were talking. The liquid inside was bound to still be cool, but Bunny didn't take a drink yet, just shifted the position of the bottle.
“I've been missing you too. There are plenty of good folks around the city, and I'm proud to call as many of them my friends as I do, but you never quite forget the very first friends you make in a new place.” Living in the Capitol had been a bit of a culture shock at first, after traveling mostly on her own for so long. Going from sleeping in abandoned houses and makeshift shelters to practically living in the lap of luxury would make anyone’s head spin, surely. Jane, with her straightforward personality, stood out like a beacon among the false facades so many of the residents at the Capitol wore.
“So just let met me know some time when you’re free and I’ll come flying right over,” she finished, and finally took that swallow from her bottle. Jane grinned and nodded, finding herself looking forward to the prospect already. As Bunny had been hoping, the beer hadn’t quite warmed up yet. She swallowed, her eyes darting to the side for a moment as she considered her next words. Then, her gaze going back to meet Jane’s, she continued. “You’re welcome to do the same, too, if you’re ever out by the Greenbelt. I’m sharing a place with Bode, so I can help mind his boys while they’re so small.”
There was no mistaking the change in Jane’s demeanor; it was if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Her face blanched, her shoulders fell, and the smile slipped off her face as quickly and easily as Bunny had put it there in the first place.
“Bode...Bode Coldiron,” Jane echoed. Her voice sounded tinny and far away. “You...you live with him. Look after his kids. That’s, uh...that’s…”
Jane shook her head, as if that would clear away the confusion, as if that would somehow make Bunny’s situation any less true. It didn’t. Jane knew she had no business feeling betrayed. All Bunny had done was move on with her life; emerging from her mourning and overcoming her grief over Nate to find someone new...or, really, someone she knew the whole of her life. A good friend would be happy for her, would be glad she’d found a family of her very own to care for and love but Jane was slowly realizing she wasn’t a good friend. She was the kind of person that pinned their foolish hopes on women she could never have when she damn well knew better. The kind of person who knew the lay of the land and still somehow ignored the obvious just to feel the warmth of Bunny’s smile again. Jane hated Bode Coldiron for never paying for the crimes he committed, for being granted power in the community he terrorized for so long, for having a perfect little family to go home to every night but as much as she hated him, there was no one Jane hated more in that moment than herself. How could she have been so very, very stupid?
Jane pushed her chair back abruptly from the table and stood.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hollow. “I need to...I should…” A million excuses came to mind; Jane’s tongue felt thick with them but none tumbled out. It was no use. Jane couldn’t lie. Not to anyone and certainly not to Bunny. “I thought I could do this,” she mumbled, unable to meet Bunny’s eyes. “I thought I was ready, or that I could forget, or something. Maybe I just need more time. Shit, I don’t know.”
Bunny swallowed hard, her expression going still in that careful way it did whenever she was trying to cover up an emotional response to something. There was no second guessing what had suddenly sent their conversation spinning out of control -- it had been mentioning Bode. Jane still couldn’t stomach Bunny’s ties to the Dog Park, and as Bunny would never sever them …
“It's okay,” she said, and her soft voice didn’t hold a hint of accusation. “I understand.”
Numbly, Jane shoved her hand in her back pocket, yanking out her wallet and opening it to throw a few bills out on the table. She backed away from the table and in her haste, knocked over her chair. It clattered to the floor, the sound so loud and jarring that Jane could hear it over the pounding in her ears. She made a motion to pick it up and was so out of sorts she sort of made a grab for it, missed, and then simply left it there.
“I’m sorry,” Jane repeated, knowing it was inadequate but unable to say anything else. “I’m just so fucking sorry.” She forced herself to meet Bunny’s eyes and with one last look, Jane turned and walked away.
After Jane left, Bunny stayed at the table, her head bowed as the conversations around her slowly started up again after their interruption. When she could finally trust herself to stand up and exit The Bar, she did so, stopping only to lift Jane’s chair up off the floor and set it back into its rightful place. Absently, her hand patted the back of the chair, as though it were a living thing and not an object. Then Bunny, too, walked away.