The week was a mess. Jefferson couldn't stand another minute in the tailor's shop, which was odd because he was used to cages, both small and large. It more than likely was due to the fact that he was hardly able to handle the idea that both Ruby and Emma were now upset with him--which he more or less deserved--and yet, there it was. That feeling of regret that he ate himself up over for years about Grace. Now he felt guilty for not one, but two other people he'd never wanted to get close to in the first place. If he were going to survive he'd have to make allies. It was just the way. With all but nothing else to do but take each day for what it was, Jefferson was only left to bond with them, and given that they had saved him from what may or may not have been a certain death, held him to a debt that softened their easing into his give a damn.
There was just no getting rid of it. Or, of continuing issues that would just fall right into his lap, such as Bucky, or James, or Agent Barnes. Jefferson was going to call him James because anything else was absurd.
He allowed only a slight amount of anxiety over the thought of a double, a doppelganger, but seeing as James was a completely different person, he dismissed the idea of a possible future self or alternate reality. They shared a face and nothing more, if still utterly awkward, there were much worse and concerning things to deal with. Like the note that Ruby got and had popped up over town. Thankfully James proved resourceful, and Jefferson was genuinely appreciative of the help. Even if the idiot thought he was on a mission.
While it would have been easier to continue on with the charade of lies Clint provided, he just didn't have the energy. Not to mention with the state of James' psyche, Jefferson found it continually difficult to just let it pass. Deep down, a part of him was loathe to admit and wonder maybe if the outside world had thought him just as lost or far gone as James was, and it made him tense. If he ever became so obtuse and out of it, Jefferson would want that reality destroyed, and restored. Ignorance about pain and suffering was one thing...not even thinking you were human with a thought in the world was another.
Baby steps. Dinner and a haircut first, establish a trust, allow him to expand his mind a little, see where it went. Considering Clint was more than likely useless and Jefferson wasn't inclined to allow his would-be-twin to walk around a fool.
"James," he glanced up from his pondering at the stove, giving the assassin a nod in greeting before gesturing with his free hand towards the dining table. "Go ahead and take a seat if you want. This is almost done." The home cooked meal would do them both some good. That was Jefferson's hope at least. He was tired of the pit in his stomach.
"It's nothing fancy but it's quiet enough. No one will bother us, and it's not too far from town." He was referring to the apartment, throwing out a little tid bit to see if James would have his rare glimmers of opinions. The more the better. And the place was open, clean, and conveniently not in the same complex as Emma and Ruby, just one more over, actually.