"Ready to Fall"
June 21, 2008 Jaime's Place, Virginia 1130 hours Paige woke up though she didn't move a muscle or open her eyes. She had fallen back to sleep after being up with him, after waking him up because she had to have him. It had been familiar yet so new all at the same time. But something was wrong now. It lay as tangible on the air as her blanket lay across her body. There. She could hear it now. Breathing. But not near her. Away from her. Her eyes fluttered open seeing the empty pillow and space next to her where Jaime should have been lying. She half rolled over until she caught him in her sight. He was sitting in a chair (where had that come from?) on her side of the bed. Just watching her. "What's up?" she asked softly. He looked, well, it was hard to figure the look out. He kind of looked pissed off and hurt and confused all at the same time. But then she didn't think anyone subject to her for a long period of time should have any less confusion about them. She had that effect on people. "Why'd you come here?" That was to the point, she thought. She sat up leaning against the headboard. "I don't understand..." "Why did you come here this weekend. It's a simple question." Something happened, her mind reported instantly. Something had tipped him off. She stared at him as the confusion on his face from just a moment ago was replaced quickly with a blank one. At least she was used to that look. Anything she said now would incriminate herself so she would let him run with it, let him come to his own decisions and conclusions. Hopefully it wouldn't be the right one. "You didn't come here to see me," he said quietly though the angry undercurrent was clearly audible. "Did you?" She continued to stare at him though she could feel her heartbeat pick up the slightest bit. He was backing her quickly into a corner. "This morning's little tryst, what was that? A bonus for you? A job well done?" "What the hell are you talking about," she asked carefully. He clenched his jaw in anger and stood up digging something out of his sweatpants pockets. Those sweats, she noticed, were all he wore. It was quite distracting, actually, until he slammed something down on the end table next to the bed. He looked to her expectantly for an explanation. She glanced at the object. A small vial, glass, with a plastic black top. Empty, of course. She glared at him, "you went through my stuff?" And just why in the hell hadn't she thrown the vial out? "What the fuck is that?" he pointed at it his voice rising the slightest bit. "Why would you go through my stuff?" she matched his voice level. "Why?" he looked at her angrily. "I can't figure you out. To save my life...I can't figure you out." He threw his hands up in the air and started pacing. Ok, she silently arched an eyebrow at him, this was new, this behavior. Had she ever seen him really pissed off before? She didn't think so. "I knew something was wrong when we went out together on that fiasco in Russia. I could tell something was different. Something was bothering you but I let it go. I chalked it up to being in the new org or something. Then you called and you sounded ok. And then you get here. The minute," he stopped in front of her, "the very second you walked through that door I knew something was up. You were distant, cold, you definitely had something on your mind. But stupid me, I let it go. I didn't want to be another pain in the ass getting up in your business. Aren't I the good little chump?" his comment was laced in anger. "Jaime," she said softly. The game was up and now it was a matter of retreat and damage control. He was, after all, still her alibi. "Don't Jaime me," he warned her. "I got a phone call a couple hours ago from Michael. Guess what he asked me?" She just looked at Jaime. Him again, always ruining things for her. One day, she swore silently, one day Michael was going to get his. "Guess, Paige. Because I'm pretty fucking sure you know the answer." He was getting loud again. He was really pissed off. "I don't know," she said flatly, her own anger starting to build at this impromptu attack. "He was asking about you. Yeah, he wanted to know if you were here, and I said yes. Then he wanted to know when you got here. I said Friday night. He asks when, I say six or so. Then he asks, was she with you the whole time? And I'm thinking to myself, that's a strange thing to ask, but I ignore the little notion in my head that something's wrong and I tell him, yeah. And he says 'are you sure?' Are. You. Sure. Paige. That's what he asked me. If I was sure, if I was positive that you were with me the whole time. Now I know something's wrong and that that something has to do with me. So I say I'm positive." Jaime began pacing again. "He tells me that a former Red Cell bigwig was found with a bullet in his head last night. In Washington D.C. An hour fucking ride from...you guessed it...here. And he asked me again if I was sure you were with me the entire time." He stopped and looked fiercely at her. "I lied." He said the words slowly and deliberately. "Lucky for you he bought it and that was it, he says ok and hangs up. So, I'm walking around the apartment wondering what the fuck that was all about. And then I see your bag in the kitchen. Now, I don't normally go snooping but you have to admit, it's been a pretty fucking bizarre morning so far so what the hell? So, I go over to it and pull the weapon out, drop the clip, two bullets missing. That in itself doesn't mean anything though it does kind of incriminate you. I search some more and kind of dump it out and what comes out? That!" he pointed to the vial. Paige clenched her jaw, clearly just as angry as he was. "You fucking drugged me, you bitch," he seethed at her. She narrowed her eyes, did he just call her a bitch? There was nothing good coming out of this now. It was going to end one of two ways: she was going to leave or she was going to kill him. She glared at him, for the moment, trying to decide which way it was going to go, but still she said nothing. "You came to my house...MY house...and drug me to go kill someone?" He shook his head in disbelief, "what's wrong with you?" And she was a little offended by that question. How dare he assign such a character flaw to her when he didn't even know the whole story. That she had drugged him to save him; to protect him from Joshua; to save his life. "What's wrong with me?" she countered, "what's wrong with you?" "What's wrong..." he stammered, "what are you twelve? Answer the fucking question," he demanded. She threw the covers off and stood up. "We're not doing this," she grumbled and moved quickly to pull on her shorts and wifebeater. "The hell we're not. You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on and why you drugged me," he stated forcefully. "You," she hissed at him, "you should leave things alone..." "No, you're not going to shut me out on this," he shook his head angrily. "Ugh," she snorted. "How's this gonna end, Jaime, huh?" She warned him with both her tone and her eyes and he took a moment to consider it, what with the new information that had presented itself about her and all. He inhaled deeply to collect himself before he spoke evenly. "I thought we...you and I...I thought we were above their little games..." "Little games?" she hissed. "You think these are little games? You don't even know the playing field." "Then tell me what the playing field is. Tell me what's going..." "No," she stopped him. She shook her head, "no." "Why?" he demanded. "Do they have something on you? Did they force you to do it? Tell me Paige...tell me why you did it." "I can't...I won't...tell you anything." He stood staring at her. "You are so frustrating," he said softly. "I can't...I just..." then it dawned on him and she saw the exact moment it became clear. Funny how that happens, when you can see the exact second a moment of clarity hits a person. "It's me," he announced. "You're afraid they'll hurt me, right?" God, he was good. "No," she said flatly. "Then why come here at all?" he ignored her denial. "Why risk..." he stopped. "You insult me," he said finally. Her brow furrowed in confusion, how did she insult him? "After everything we've been through, all we've done together...I'd do anything for you, Paige, anything. I'd walk out of heaven straight into hell for you. You should have told me you needed help, I'd lie for you. But I get this? Lied to, manipulated, drugged...and this morning? God," he shook his head, "I might as well have been by myself." She grimaced, "that hurts," she mumbled. "Does it?" he questioned her. "Because I'm beginning to think that you don't feel anything anymore." Walk away, her mind scolded her. He knows too much, just walk away. But she found herself unable to heed the directions from her conscience. She also found herself unable to speak, unable to even begin to try to explain anything, or everything...or nothing. He had given her a way out, the perfect segue into just walking away and ending it right then and there. But she just stood still, staring at him as he studied her and with each passing minute the pain on his face was more apparent. Then something changed in his demeanor, somewhere in his head a decision had been made. "I have something," he said and she could hear the frustration and vulnerability in his voice. Whatever that decision was Paige was pretty sure it was going to change a lot of things about their relationship. She fidgeted the slightest bit as he walked over to the big dresser at the foot of the bed and opened one of the smaller drawers. He pulled something out from its depths and walked back over to her. "Do you know what this is?" he held it up for her. It was a ring. A plain gold band. "No," she whispered already knowing what he was going to say. Already knowing that no man could love the way he did without having loved before. "This is a wedding ring. Before I got involved in this world, I was married to the most wonderful and amazing woman on the planet. I swore...I swore to her as she lay dying in my arms that I would love her forever. And I swore to myself, on her grave, that I would never love anyone again. Ever." "Don't Jaime," she shook her head. He was going to say it, she knew it, he had said it once before but he hadn't been himself then. Now, there was no injury to deal with, no psychological damage, it was just him. "I made my promise...and that worked out just fine for me...until I met you and I...I just fell...just fell completely for you." If there was anything left of her heart after what Joshua had done to it, Jaime now broke it. The overwhelming pain in his eyes, in his expression, his tone of voice, it was oppressive. And so she learned the source of that ruthless sadness in those big blue eyes of his that tore at her in every glance. And in that knowledge she learned that this man was capable of so many layers of emotions, so many she had no idea existed. "Do you have any idea what you mean to me?" He moved closer to her and she could see, up close, all the pain she caused him. All the doubt and all the confusion, and the hurt, and the betrayal, she could see it all now in his eyes. So clearly. She had to look away under those eyes. She was exhausted. He exhausted her more so than anything Joshua ever did to her. He challenged her on a level that Joshua couldn't because it was on a level that Joshua didn't believe existed. A level she was quite convinced didn't exist anymore either. "I love you, even though I swore I wouldn't. I can't help it. And you used to feel the same way." "Please don't do this," she whispered. But he was going to. He moved closer holding her head against his chest. "I don't know what they did to you, but I want to know. I want you to tell me. I want to help." "It's not that easy," she stated clearly taking a step back from him. "Yes, it is that easy." And he stood there looking to her expectantly. Now it was up to her, the ball in her court. She could shut him out, ignore the fact that he completely opened up to her, that he put himself on the line, that he played every card he had to get her to this point. She could walk away and lose this one person that no matter what she did to him...he still wanted to help her, to be with her, still accepted her. She could walk away and be alone with just the darkness and all the emptiness inside of her for company. Or she could tell him, tell him everything, risk everything by banking on that he was telling her the truth, that he wasn't working with Them, and that he would indeed walk through hell for her...because it might just come down to that. She took a small breath and tilted her head trying to get something out. She was standing on the ledge getting ready to fall, "dangerous," she finally mumbled her face clouding over. Then the hands reached out to steady her. "Everything about our lives is dangerous. We'll deal with it together," he said quietly. Together. The decision was made. She moved slowly and sat down on the bed her hands rubbing her knees. It put her on edge bringing someone else into her private hell. She looked up to him for reassurance and he nodded his head slightly. "If I tell you anything," she said softly, "and they find out, Michael or Joshua, they will hunt you down...and they will kill you." Jaime stared at her defiantly. "I know how they work..." "You need to understand, they are working on a level above Section and above Oversight, if they think anything is getting in their way they will stop at nothing to stop it. Nothing, Jaime, and no one is safe from them. Madeline wasn't, I'm not, and certainly you aren't. I can't protect you. Not if you know." Jaime turned it over in his mind and she could see him weighing his safety versus his curiosity. "I can handle myself," he said finally. Apparently, Jaime had some Bathroom Tigers of his own... Return