HOME | DD

Description
Where the Hell is she? Pacing around at the restaurant, Jayne looked the epitome of irritated, roughly three seconds from spiting out a stream of blue-cloud curses befitting of her family's trade – both past and current. For what seemed the hundredth time since she heard that the Chili Fest mission had been completed, the brunette chef ran over the arrangement that she and Ellis had made before the former left on said mission.

I'd like ta see ya ag'in, iffen yeh don' mind.
Uh, sure. How about the day you get back? My restaurant; probably be covering for some dumbshit who doesn't know a sieve from a colander. Be there an hour after you land.
*laughter* Sure, I think I can manage tha'. Supper, then, yeah?
Yeah. Be on time, or I'm coming after you!
*more laughter* O'course! I ain' standin' up mah bonnie corsair! Cain' wait, lass.

And yet, here she was; stood up and waiting for almost two hours after their meeting time for a no-show. It was humiliating, and her co-workers were starting to give her weird glances for staying around after she left for the day (especially after staying an extra hour already). Finally, her composure snapped, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment for being so clueless. Shoulda known, moron. She probably forgot or is testing you or some stupid shit like that. Well screw her! I'm going home!

Snatching up her jacket and roughly adjusting her patch, she scowled at the clock on the wall, as if willing it to say the time was wrong and the cowgirl was going to walk through the door any second with that stupid grin on her face. No such luck.

"I'm going over there and giving her a piece of my mind," she grumbled, turning sharply on the street and storming towards the other's apartment near the outskirts of Death City. She considered calling to leave a warning, but decided against it ruthlessly. Ellis hadn't answered any of her other calls; no point in giving her time to try and save herself.

After a twenty-minute walk/storm-off, a berating of the grouchy middle-aged woman who passed for building management, and stalking up four flights of stairs (since the elevator was still broken), Jayne arrived at Ellis' door, painted a cheery blue color like all the others in faded lacquer. The steel numbers shone dully in the late afternoon light, mocking her with the lack-luster existence. Scowling, she raised a fist and pounded loudly on the door, denting and eventually cracking the old wood as she vented her frustration in five instinctually timed strikes.

The waiting was the most annoying part, though her anger flared again once she heard the lock draw back and deadbolt unlatch. A portion of her mind thought it odd, considering that from what she'd seen Ellis never locked her door, but the seething rage blocked it out as the doorknob turned.

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Snapping awake from the fitful sleep she'd fallen into after arriving home, Ellis gripped the loveseat tightly, knuckles and face the same shade of white as her eyes darted around the dark room, lit only barely by the light struggling through the blinds. Belatedly, she realized that the loud cracking had been knocking at her door, and she struggled to her feet, muscles groaning in protest after being slept on oddly. Her broken hand throbbed dully, reminding her of its painful presence, and her face felt tight. Rubbing at her eyes and licking her lips (salty – she'd cried herself to sleep, apparently) she struggled to the door, absently brushing back her hair before unlocking the door's chain, then the deadbolt.

Only because she didn't feel safe did she lock the door. Ko's words ran through her mind yet again and she suppressed a shiver as she handled the worn doorknob, turning it without even looking out through the peep-hole. She didn't care right now what anyone saw or who it was; it doubtless couldn't be worse than seeing her again.

She was wrong. Opening the door wide enough for both bodies to have a full view of the other, the redhead felt an icy wash of realization. Jayne; she was supposed to meet Jayne today after getting back. And now, the pirate was standing there, fuming and scowling and obviously displeased. Taking a deep breath, Ellis sighed and looked away, refusing eye-contact. Where to explain?

"'Allo, Jayne –"
"Don't you 'Allo Jayne', me! Where the Hell were you?!"
"Look, lass, this ain' a good time–"
"I don't fucking care! We were supposed to meet up!"
"I'm sorry. I' slipped mah min'."
"Slipped your mind?! So, I'm forgettable, is that it?! And look at me, damn it!"

Ellis groaned, leaning against the door frame wearily, shifting her gaze from Jayne's right to the floor at her left. Why weren't things ever easy? What could she say? "No, Jayne, ya ain' forgott'n."

At this, the brunette seemed to get even more indignant, and her voice raised, echoing down the hallway slightly. "Oh that's bloody reassuring! So what; you're not interested then, hm? Is that it?"

Rubbing her eyes with her good hand, Ellis slowly counted to five, then spoke again. "No, lass, tha' ain' it. Look, iffen ye can calm down 'n' stop assuming' 'n' let me es'plain–"

"Fuck your explanations, Winchester! I'm going home!" At Ellis' mouth opening to protest, Jayne punched the other square in the cheek – not enough for permanent damage, but enough to bruise and hurt like a bitch. With a disgusted sneer, the corsair turned sharply on her heel and stormed off, yelling back over her shoulder, "And don't call me again!" The doorway to the stairs slammed as the cowgirl returned her gaze to the now empty hall, then dropped it to the floor again. She leaned against the frame heavily, eyes closed in a vain attempt to keep more tears at bay.

Why weren't things ever easy?

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After nearly an hour of storming around Death City in a burning rage, Jayne's temper had finally cooled enough for her to think back on the argument without needing to punch something. Now she was curious (though still mad) – Ellis hadn't seemed her usual charming self. No energy, a lack of expression, avoiding eye contact… usually these accounted for guilt, but in past experience the cowgirl had been only moderately embarrassed and sufficiently contrite when caught. Jayne hadn't seen her act this way yet… at least, not openly when the pirate herself was around. It'd always been a distant and somber look when the redhead was lost in thought, an absent touch at the scar on her eye, a whisper from onlookers when she wasn't around…

Simply put, the Texan didn't act like that normally. Especially not when confronted by Jayne. You know… thinking about it, her eyes and cheeks were red. And her clothes were wrinkled; maybe she fell asleep? It was a long mission… Cursing quietly, Jayne slowed to a walk and looked back towards the apartment building, tracking back through the whole conversation. The more she did, the more she realized that something was wrong.

And, just a little, she felt guilty.

"Well… I guess I have to go back and apologize, don't I? What a bloody hassle." Kicking at the cobblestones, Jayne walked back towards the building, slowly, leisurely, and completely (she hoped) calm.

By the time she was back at the door, the laughing sun was setting in the west, giving an orange-gold tint to everything in the hallway. The metal seemed molten as she stared at the numbers again, and the indentations she'd made earlier in the painted wood stood out strongly in the contrasting light. She forced herself not to wince at the damage, and breathed deeply.

All right; you've come this far. Now you just have to keep your head until you get some answers.

Holding up her hand once more, she hesitated for a moment before knocking loudly. This time, she refrained from cracking the door, but a shattering sound from inside and loud, muffled curses inspired not waiting for the other to answer the door. Taking the knob in her hand, Jayne shouldered the door open, the hinges flying open as the door had not been locked this time. The door slammed into the wall behind it, and Jayne staggered in, eyes adjusting to the dark room and light coming from the kitchen.

Ellis glared up at her, eyes tearing up from the pain. Coffee was splashed all over her cast and countertop, and the cowgirl was spitting out quiet curses as she mopped up the counter with a rag. The shattering must have been her mug dropping, and Ellis averted her eyes, sighing in exasperation. A bruise had started to for on her cheek, shadowing her face darkly in the harsh kitchen light, and the tissue had already started swelling.

Jayne could only stand awkwardly, not sure quite what to do. If it'd happened in her kitchen, she'd know exactly what to do and would do so efficiently, without even thinking. But too many things clouded the situation – her guilt, being in someone else's home… Ellis' tears…

So she stood there, waiting until the other got a hold of herself. Get ready…

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After Jayne had left, Ellis had somehow managed to get herself back inside the apartment, falling limply into her rocking chair by the patio. She closed her eyes, cursing her stupidity and foolishness as she tried not to cry again. Too much… it was all too much today.

How could I let this happen? Jayne's been nothing but good to me – I let her down. Now I've really buggered this up.

She'd made coffee after calming down, and had poured it into a mug (now shattered on the linoleum at her feet) just moments ago, still lost in depressing thoughts. She'd only just picked it up when the knocking startled her witless again, the cup slipping from her hand. She'd made to grab it with her broken hand, forgetting it was still cast in plaster and bandages (as evidenced by the dark brown liquid staining the slightly gray fabric) and only succeeded in hurting her hand and knocking the steaming liquid all over her bare feet before the mug shattered on the floor.

Ellis had yelped in pain and started cursing violently as the door suddenly burst open, revealing a rather surprised Jayne. Neither surprised to see her nor in a very good mood at all, Ellis had settled for clenching her jaw (to keep from saying something stupid) and giving the corsair a dirty look. The held-back tears burst free, dripping down her tan face and mingling with the coffee on the counter, and she snatched up a rag from the counter, mopping everything up with jerky motions, pouring more of the cooling liquid onto the floor and cabinets. Her curses grew quieter, then trickled to a stop as she realized that Jayne was staring at her. Going still, the cowgirl sighed deeply, then looked up at her.

"Whateva' it is, lass, keep i' ta yerself a momen', a'righ'?" Her tone was weary and her arm shook, hand gripping the sopping rag tightly. "I know… I ain' been th' bes' for ye, but I swear lass; this 'tweren't mah Goddamn fault. Shit 'appened, 'n' I forgot, 'n' I'm sorry I ain' bloody good 'nough but damnit, I'm tryin'." Gritting her teeth, the Demon Rifle dropped the cloth in the sink and knelt to pick up the shards of her mug before she stepped on them.

Jayne's temper flared briefly, and she stepped forward to where she could see the injured Weapon. "Look, I was waiting for you. I waited for two hours, and you never showed. You never even answered your damn phone – and don't give me that lame 'Oh, I left it off the charger' bullshit; it rang before going to voicemail at least six times. I must've left you twenty messages!"
"Seven, act'ally. I checked af'er ya lef'."
"Whatever. You didn't answer and you left me waiting. What was I supposed to think?"
"I said I'm sorry. Was go'na es'plain, 'member?"
"Well, I was angry," she stated simply, adding grudgingly, "and I don't do well with being told to 'calm down'. What happened? Why didn't you show up?"

Ellis shrugged, standing and walking gingerly on scalded feet to the trash can, dumping the sharp ceramic pieces with a tinkling clatter into the bag. "I spaced, li'e I said. Mission 'it a snag, 'n' I got preoccupie'."

Jayne frowned. She hadn't heard anything from anyone else about something bad happening on the mission. "What kind of snag?"

"…Mah ex showed up." The statement was soft and full of pain. Jayne, however, mistook this for the guilt she'd suspected Ellis of having earlier. The lack of explanation and pregnant pause deepened her dread, and the Demon Shoge shook with hurt and anger. Her… ex? What the fuck does she mean by that? Why was that so hard to say? Damn it, woman, why don't you SAY SOMETHING?!

"So, what? You had a nice happy reunion, then?" The chef was surprised at how much despair was in her tone, but she couldn't stop talking. Everything came out in a rush, her cheeks hot (with anger; she'd beat anyone that said otherwise). "You just needed a break with someone more boyish, someone who could take the buggering hurt, is that it? What, you gonna fucking dump me now?"

Ellis froze, staring straight ahead at the wall before turning around slowly, horrified. Jayne was glaring at her, but she felt no fear for her safety; only a cold sensation of anxiety and mild outrage at the concept of cheating. "Ya really don' know nothin' 'bout it, do ye?" she murmured in awe, searching the corsair's face for any sign of humor or falsehood. When the other's expression turned puzzled, she continued, expression neutralizing and her tone firming. "Lass, th' las' time I saw mah ex, she wen' turncoat 'gainst th' DWMA. She tried ta kill me, Jayne, 'n' very near was successful. Th' 'arpy's a renegadin' nutjob, and I ain' ever goin' ta cheat on ye, much less ta go back ta 'er."

Anger subsiding completely, Jayne stared dumbfounded for a moment, almost tasting the sole of her boot in the back of her throat. The moment stretched on, Ellis staring at her impassively as the pirate tried to find something to say. She settled by letting her breath out in the most intelligible thing she could think of at the moment.

"…Oh."

Ellis sighed, picking her way back through the glass to the sink to rinse her hand. Shame washed through the brunette at her rather outlandish assumptions, especially when all of them had not only been proved completely wrong, but had hurt Ellis – no, her girlfriend – deeply. Probably dredged up more bad memories and opened more scars than was helpful, too. Composing herself as the water shut off, she handed the cowgirl a towel from the pile near the stove. The redhead paused for a moment, then took the cloth with a murmured gratitude.

Oh, come on! You messed this up; FIX IT.

"…Go sit down. There's broken glass and coffee everywhere, and you're in bare feet. If you don't cut yourself, you could slip and break your rutting neck. I'll make us some coffee."

Steel grey eyes met viridian and held for a moment before Ellis nodded a silent assent, allowing Jayne to take her hand and help her past the mess. Out of harm's way, she turned on the living room lamp and settled heavily onto the loveseat, wiping the cold coffee from her lightly burned limbs with the rapidly dirtying hand towel. Jayne, accustomed to this kitchen already, quickly located the broom and dustpan to sweep up the glass, simultaneously locating the coffee beans and grinder on the counter. After grinding the dark roasted seeds and starting a new pot of coffee (done "cowboy style" on the stove, of course), she set about the usual motions of cleaning; sweep, dump, wipe up, wash, dry… it calmed the corsair into thinking (slightly) more rationally. With the coffee bubbling on the stove, she poured the two of them mugs (piling sugar into hers after finding the jar in a cupboard).

"…Sorry." It was soft, and hard for her to say, but as Jayne walked around the bar to hand Ellis her plain drink, she saw the other shake her head. Taking the ceramic cup, the redhead smiled, painfully yet full of gratitude. "Don' be, Jayne – I'm ain' much good with… well, anythin' ta do with Ko. I's a'ight."

Frowning slightly, the chef sat opposite of her on the worn loveseat, mentally inscribing the name "Ko" onto the top of a very, very long list of people to kill. Ellis was good people – she didn't deserve someone that could turn her into a wreck like this. Deciding it would be best (though rather uncomfortable) to let the cowgirl talk on her own, she sipped at the rich, sweet liquid and waited. Patiently, even.

At the other end of the conversation, Ellis struggled with words. Jayne needed to know about Ko… but where should she start? There was so much that needed to be said, and nowhere to begin. After a moment, something her grandfather (now passed, bless his soul) had told her on the subject: "Whether it be stories or explanations, a good tale always starts from the beginning." Taking a deep breath, she did just that.

"I don' know 'ow much ya know 'bout me or Ko, but I s'pose I should start when we firs' met. I'd been at Shibusen for few years, long 'nough ta get a reputation as a cursed Weapon. Couldn't keep a Meister ta save mah skin. When I met Ko (Kohaku Allegra she was back then), it was li'e a blessin' from God; someone I didn' 'urt all th' time, someone who understood what I needed 'n' listened ta me. We were partners fer 'bout two 'n' a half years…" Blushing slightly, she continued, not looking at Jayne. "…'n' lovers fer th' better part. I knew she was a witch, but it dinna matta'; she was mah partner, 'n' I'd protect 'er no matta' what.

"She was a nervous li'l thing, always anxious 'n' smilin' ta keep people from worryin'. Pretty sure I'm th' only one tha' evah saw 'er cry or 'ave a panic attack. But, we were good fer each other. She made me patient; I made 'er a li'l stronger. We were well on our way ta makin' me a Death-Scythe, 'n' neither of us coulda been 'appier. Then… Lynn showed up." The redhead's face contorted into an expression of pain and anger for a moment, but after sipping her drink, the mood had passed and she continued, voice as dark and bitter as her coffee.

"We were on our las' kishin egg when Lynn showed up. Fox witch, ya know – made illusions 'n' fire 'n' all tha', like those ol' stories. She started spoutin' off nonsense 'bout 'ow I was giv'n ta Ko ta watch 'er, make sure 'er witch powers dinna grow 'till I 'came a Death-Scythe and Lor' Death could kill 'er 'imself. Lies, th' 'ole lot of it, but I couldn' convince 'er. Doubt sown, Lynn lef', 'n' we came back ta Shibusen.

"We fought af'er tha'. All th' time. Got real bad by th' time Lor' Death sent us out ag'in. Our wavelengths were outta synch, I was tryin' ta calm 'er 'n' figure things out, 'n' she dinna trust me anymore. We were sen' ta get Lynn of all people, 'n' we fought 'er for a while 'afore she started tauntin' Ko ag'in. She convinced 'er tha' she could 'elp Ko get 'er memories back, 'elp 'er get stronger so she'd nevah hafta worry 'bout Death ag'in. Stupid girl – she believed tha' witch's lies. Dropped me like a useless antique 'n' went with 'er. When I tied ta call 'er back, Ko attacked me – gave me this scar, she did." Tracing a finger over the whole of the scar bisecting her right eye, she smirked grimly. "Almos' lost mah eye coz of it, lucky I didn'. She chased me 'n' kept attackin'. Couldn' do nothin' coz I loved 'er, so I just ran as fast as I could all th' way back ta Shibusen. Mission failure, new rogue witch out there, 'n' spent a couple months in recov'ry. Once I was deemed 'fit for duty' ag'in, I wen' back ta classes 'n' started all over findin' a new partner."

Pausing for a moment, she sipped her coffee, not sure where to go from here. Settling on a course after a few moments, she concluded, "It 'twern't seein' 'er ag'in tha' scared me, Jayne. She knew 'bout you; e'en what I call ya. I was scared she'd come fer ya, lass."

"Well, you don't need to worry about that. I can handle myself, especially against that two-timing, backstabbing, bitch of a whore." Seething but calm, Jayne recounted the whole story, committing it to memory. A low, simmering anger burned deep within her, and the need to protect was (almost) outweighed by the desire for revenge. This was one person the corsair would hunt until the end of her days, vowing to make her pay for everything that she had done wrong. She would regret ever even meeting Ellis; that was for sure.

For now, however, she settled on simple things. Taking the now empty mugs, she set them in the kitchen sink (filling them with water so they wouldn't stain), then strode purposefully to lift her girlfriend to her feet. Grinning broadly to hide her hidden rage, she turned and tossed a nearby backpack at the redhead, startling her as she fumbled to catch it.

"Get some clothes packed, Winchester. I'm not letting you stay here and wallow in depression. Besides, you've got nothing decent to eat in this house, and I feel like a home-cooked meal tonight. Jeez, to think that I need to keep an eye on you – such a hassle." With a smirk over her shoulder, she saw the puzzled expression relax into a soft smile and the nod that accompanied it. She waited by the door as Ellis walked carefully into the bedroom, absently listening to the sounds of the other moving around with her usual self-assuredness. But with the cowgirl out of the room, Jayne allowed a scowl to form over her features once again.

She would pay. Kohaku Allegra, your days are numbered.

Description
Where the Hell is she? Pacing around at the restaurant, Jayne looked the epitome of irritated, roughly three seconds from spiting out a stream of blue-cloud curses befitting of her family's trade – both past and current. For what seemed the hundredth time since she heard that the Chili Fest mission had been completed, the brunette chef ran over the arrangement that she and Ellis had made before the former left on said mission.

I'd like ta see ya ag'in, iffen yeh don' mind.
Uh, sure. How about the day you get back? My restaurant; probably be covering for some dumbshit who doesn't know a sieve from a colander. Be there an hour after you land.
*laughter* Sure, I think I can manage tha'. Supper, then, yeah?
Yeah. Be on time, or I'm coming after you!
*more laughter* O'course! I ain' standin' up mah bonnie corsair! Cain' wait, lass.

And yet, here she was; stood up and waiting for almost two hours after their meeting time for a no-show. It was humiliating, and her co-workers were starting to give her weird glances for staying around after she left for the day (especially after staying an extra hour already). Finally, her composure snapped, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment for being so clueless. Shoulda known, moron. She probably forgot or is testing you or some stupid shit like that. Well screw her! I'm going home!

Snatching up her jacket and roughly adjusting her patch, she scowled at the clock on the wall, as if willing it to say the time was wrong and the cowgirl was going to walk through the door any second with that stupid grin on her face. No such luck.

"I'm going over there and giving her a piece of my mind," she grumbled, turning sharply on the street and storming towards the other's apartment near the outskirts of Death City. She considered calling to leave a warning, but decided against it ruthlessly. Ellis hadn't answered any of her other calls; no point in giving her time to try and save herself.

After a twenty-minute walk/storm-off, a berating of the grouchy middle-aged woman who passed for building management, and stalking up four flights of stairs (since the elevator was still broken), Jayne arrived at Ellis' door, painted a cheery blue color like all the others in faded lacquer. The steel numbers shone dully in the late afternoon light, mocking her with the lack-luster existence. Scowling, she raised a fist and pounded loudly on the door, denting and eventually cracking the old wood as she vented her frustration in five instinctually timed strikes.

The waiting was the most annoying part, though her anger flared again once she heard the lock draw back and deadbolt unlatch. A portion of her mind thought it odd, considering that from what she'd seen Ellis never locked her door, but the seething rage blocked it out as the doorknob turned.

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Snapping awake from the fitful sleep she'd fallen into after arriving home, Ellis gripped the loveseat tightly, knuckles and face the same shade of white as her eyes darted around the dark room, lit only barely by the light struggling through the blinds. Belatedly, she realized that the loud cracking had been knocking at her door, and she struggled to her feet, muscles groaning in protest after being slept on oddly. Her broken hand throbbed dully, reminding her of its painful presence, and her face felt tight. Rubbing at her eyes and licking her lips (salty – she'd cried herself to sleep, apparently) she struggled to the door, absently brushing back her hair before unlocking the door's chain, then the deadbolt.

Only because she didn't feel safe did she lock the door. Ko's words ran through her mind yet again and she suppressed a shiver as she handled the worn doorknob, turning it without even looking out through the peep-hole. She didn't care right now what anyone saw or who it was; it doubtless couldn't be worse than seeing her again.

She was wrong. Opening the door wide enough for both bodies to have a full view of the other, the redhead felt an icy wash of realization. Jayne; she was supposed to meet Jayne today after getting back. And now, the pirate was standing there, fuming and scowling and obviously displeased. Taking a deep breath, Ellis sighed and looked away, refusing eye-contact. Where to explain?

"'Allo, Jayne –"
"Don't you 'Allo Jayne', me! Where the Hell were you?!"
"Look, lass, this ain' a good time–"
"I don't fucking care! We were supposed to meet up!"
"I'm sorry. I' slipped mah min'."
"Slipped your mind?! So, I'm forgettable, is that it?! And look at me, damn it!"

Ellis groaned, leaning against the door frame wearily, shifting her gaze from Jayne's right to the floor at her left. Why weren't things ever easy? What could she say? "No, Jayne, ya ain' forgott'n."

At this, the brunette seemed to get even more indignant, and her voice raised, echoing down the hallway slightly. "Oh that's bloody reassuring! So what; you're not interested then, hm? Is that it?"

Rubbing her eyes with her good hand, Ellis slowly counted to five, then spoke again. "No, lass, tha' ain' it. Look, iffen ye can calm down 'n' stop assuming' 'n' let me es'plain–"

"Fuck your explanations, Winchester! I'm going home!" At Ellis' mouth opening to protest, Jayne punched the other square in the cheek – not enough for permanent damage, but enough to bruise and hurt like a bitch. With a disgusted sneer, the corsair turned sharply on her heel and stormed off, yelling back over her shoulder, "And don't call me again!" The doorway to the stairs slammed as the cowgirl returned her gaze to the now empty hall, then dropped it to the floor again. She leaned against the frame heavily, eyes closed in a vain attempt to keep more tears at bay.

Why weren't things ever easy?

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After nearly an hour of storming around Death City in a burning rage, Jayne's temper had finally cooled enough for her to think back on the argument without needing to punch something. Now she was curious (though still mad) – Ellis hadn't seemed her usual charming self. No energy, a lack of expression, avoiding eye contact… usually these accounted for guilt, but in past experience the cowgirl had been only moderately embarrassed and sufficiently contrite when caught. Jayne hadn't seen her act this way yet… at least, not openly when the pirate herself was around. It'd always been a distant and somber look when the redhead was lost in thought, an absent touch at the scar on her eye, a whisper from onlookers when she wasn't around…

Simply put, the Texan didn't act like that normally. Especially not when confronted by Jayne. You know… thinking about it, her eyes and cheeks were red. And her clothes were wrinkled; maybe she fell asleep? It was a long mission… Cursing quietly, Jayne slowed to a walk and looked back towards the apartment building, tracking back through the whole conversation. The more she did, the more she realized that something was wrong.

And, just a little, she felt guilty.

"Well… I guess I have to go back and apologize, don't I? What a bloody hassle." Kicking at the cobblestones, Jayne walked back towards the building, slowly, leisurely, and completely (she hoped) calm.

By the time she was back at the door, the laughing sun was setting in the west, giving an orange-gold tint to everything in the hallway. The metal seemed molten as she stared at the numbers again, and the indentations she'd made earlier in the painted wood stood out strongly in the contrasting light. She forced herself not to wince at the damage, and breathed deeply.

All right; you've come this far. Now you just have to keep your head until you get some answers.

Holding up her hand once more, she hesitated for a moment before knocking loudly. This time, she refrained from cracking the door, but a shattering sound from inside and loud, muffled curses inspired not waiting for the other to answer the door. Taking the knob in her hand, Jayne shouldered the door open, the hinges flying open as the door had not been locked this time. The door slammed into the wall behind it, and Jayne staggered in, eyes adjusting to the dark room and light coming from the kitchen.

Ellis glared up at her, eyes tearing up from the pain. Coffee was splashed all over her cast and countertop, and the cowgirl was spitting out quiet curses as she mopped up the counter with a rag. The shattering must have been her mug dropping, and Ellis averted her eyes, sighing in exasperation. A bruise had started to for on her cheek, shadowing her face darkly in the harsh kitchen light, and the tissue had already started swelling.

Jayne could only stand awkwardly, not sure quite what to do. If it'd happened in her kitchen, she'd know exactly what to do and would do so efficiently, without even thinking. But too many things clouded the situation – her guilt, being in someone else's home… Ellis' tears…

So she stood there, waiting until the other got a hold of herself. Get ready…

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After Jayne had left, Ellis had somehow managed to get herself back inside the apartment, falling limply into her rocking chair by the patio. She closed her eyes, cursing her stupidity and foolishness as she tried not to cry again. Too much… it was all too much today.

How could I let this happen? Jayne's been nothing but good to me – I let her down. Now I've really buggered this up.

She'd made coffee after calming down, and had poured it into a mug (now shattered on the linoleum at her feet) just moments ago, still lost in depressing thoughts. She'd only just picked it up when the knocking startled her witless again, the cup slipping from her hand. She'd made to grab it with her broken hand, forgetting it was still cast in plaster and bandages (as evidenced by the dark brown liquid staining the slightly gray fabric) and only succeeded in hurting her hand and knocking the steaming liquid all over her bare feet before the mug shattered on the floor.

Ellis had yelped in pain and started cursing violently as the door suddenly burst open, revealing a rather surprised Jayne. Neither surprised to see her nor in a very good mood at all, Ellis had settled for clenching her jaw (to keep from saying something stupid) and giving the corsair a dirty look. The held-back tears burst free, dripping down her tan face and mingling with the coffee on the counter, and she snatched up a rag from the counter, mopping everything up with jerky motions, pouring more of the cooling liquid onto the floor and cabinets. Her curses grew quieter, then trickled to a stop as she realized that Jayne was staring at her. Going still, the cowgirl sighed deeply, then looked up at her.

"Whateva' it is, lass, keep i' ta yerself a momen', a'righ'?" Her tone was weary and her arm shook, hand gripping the sopping rag tightly. "I know… I ain' been th' bes' for ye, but I swear lass; this 'tweren't mah Goddamn fault. Shit 'appened, 'n' I forgot, 'n' I'm sorry I ain' bloody good 'nough but damnit, I'm tryin'." Gritting her teeth, the Demon Rifle dropped the cloth in the sink and knelt to pick up the shards of her mug before she stepped on them.

Jayne's temper flared briefly, and she stepped forward to where she could see the injured Weapon. "Look, I was waiting for you. I waited for two hours, and you never showed. You never even answered your damn phone – and don't give me that lame 'Oh, I left it off the charger' bullshit; it rang before going to voicemail at least six times. I must've left you twenty messages!"
"Seven, act'ally. I checked af'er ya lef'."
"Whatever. You didn't answer and you left me waiting. What was I supposed to think?"
"I said I'm sorry. Was go'na es'plain, 'member?"
"Well, I was angry," she stated simply, adding grudgingly, "and I don't do well with being told to 'calm down'. What happened? Why didn't you show up?"

Ellis shrugged, standing and walking gingerly on scalded feet to the trash can, dumping the sharp ceramic pieces with a tinkling clatter into the bag. "I spaced, li'e I said. Mission 'it a snag, 'n' I got preoccupie'."

Jayne frowned. She hadn't heard anything from anyone else about something bad happening on the mission. "What kind of snag?"

"…Mah ex showed up." The statement was soft and full of pain. Jayne, however, mistook this for the guilt she'd suspected Ellis of having earlier. The lack of explanation and pregnant pause deepened her dread, and the Demon Shoge shook with hurt and anger. Her… ex? What the fuck does she mean by that? Why was that so hard to say? Damn it, woman, why don't you SAY SOMETHING?!

"So, what? You had a nice happy reunion, then?" The chef was surprised at how much despair was in her tone, but she couldn't stop talking. Everything came out in a rush, her cheeks hot (with anger; she'd beat anyone that said otherwise). "You just needed a break with someone more boyish, someone who could take the buggering hurt, is that it? What, you gonna fucking dump me now?"

Ellis froze, staring straight ahead at the wall before turning around slowly, horrified. Jayne was glaring at her, but she felt no fear for her safety; only a cold sensation of anxiety and mild outrage at the concept of cheating. "Ya really don' know nothin' 'bout it, do ye?" she murmured in awe, searching the corsair's face for any sign of humor or falsehood. When the other's expression turned puzzled, she continued, expression neutralizing and her tone firming. "Lass, th' las' time I saw mah ex, she wen' turncoat 'gainst th' DWMA. She tried ta kill me, Jayne, 'n' very near was successful. Th' 'arpy's a renegadin' nutjob, and I ain' ever goin' ta cheat on ye, much less ta go back ta 'er."

Anger subsiding completely, Jayne stared dumbfounded for a moment, almost tasting the sole of her boot in the back of her throat. The moment stretched on, Ellis staring at her impassively as the pirate tried to find something to say. She settled by letting her breath out in the most intelligible thing she could think of at the moment.

"…Oh."

Ellis sighed, picking her way back through the glass to the sink to rinse her hand. Shame washed through the brunette at her rather outlandish assumptions, especially when all of them had not only been proved completely wrong, but had hurt Ellis – no, her girlfriend – deeply. Probably dredged up more bad memories and opened more scars than was helpful, too. Composing herself as the water shut off, she handed the cowgirl a towel from the pile near the stove. The redhead paused for a moment, then took the cloth with a murmured gratitude.

Oh, come on! You messed this up; FIX IT.

"…Go sit down. There's broken glass and coffee everywhere, and you're in bare feet. If you don't cut yourself, you could slip and break your rutting neck. I'll make us some coffee."

Steel grey eyes met viridian and held for a moment before Ellis nodded a silent assent, allowing Jayne to take her hand and help her past the mess. Out of harm's way, she turned on the living room lamp and settled heavily onto the loveseat, wiping the cold coffee from her lightly burned limbs with the rapidly dirtying hand towel. Jayne, accustomed to this kitchen already, quickly located the broom and dustpan to sweep up the glass, simultaneously locating the coffee beans and grinder on the counter. After grinding the dark roasted seeds and starting a new pot of coffee (done "cowboy style" on the stove, of course), she set about the usual motions of cleaning; sweep, dump, wipe up, wash, dry… it calmed the corsair into thinking (slightly) more rationally. With the coffee bubbling on the stove, she poured the two of them mugs (piling sugar into hers after finding the jar in a cupboard).

"…Sorry." It was soft, and hard for her to say, but as Jayne walked around the bar to hand Ellis her plain drink, she saw the other shake her head. Taking the ceramic cup, the redhead smiled, painfully yet full of gratitude. "Don' be, Jayne – I'm ain' much good with… well, anythin' ta do with Ko. I's a'ight."

Frowning slightly, the chef sat opposite of her on the worn loveseat, mentally inscribing the name "Ko" onto the top of a very, very long list of people to kill. Ellis was good people – she didn't deserve someone that could turn her into a wreck like this. Deciding it would be best (though rather uncomfortable) to let the cowgirl talk on her own, she sipped at the rich, sweet liquid and waited. Patiently, even.

At the other end of the conversation, Ellis struggled with words. Jayne needed to know about Ko… but where should she start? There was so much that needed to be said, and nowhere to begin. After a moment, something her grandfather (now passed, bless his soul) had told her on the subject: "Whether it be stories or explanations, a good tale always starts from the beginning." Taking a deep breath, she did just that.

"I don' know 'ow much ya know 'bout me or Ko, but I s'pose I should start when we firs' met. I'd been at Shibusen for few years, long 'nough ta get a reputation as a cursed Weapon. Couldn't keep a Meister ta save mah skin. When I met Ko (Kohaku Allegra she was back then), it was li'e a blessin' from God; someone I didn' 'urt all th' time, someone who understood what I needed 'n' listened ta me. We were partners fer 'bout two 'n' a half years…" Blushing slightly, she continued, not looking at Jayne. "…'n' lovers fer th' better part. I knew she was a witch, but it dinna matta'; she was mah partner, 'n' I'd protect 'er no matta' what.

"She was a nervous li'l thing, always anxious 'n' smilin' ta keep people from worryin'. Pretty sure I'm th' only one tha' evah saw 'er cry or 'ave a panic attack. But, we were good fer each other. She made me patient; I made 'er a li'l stronger. We were well on our way ta makin' me a Death-Scythe, 'n' neither of us coulda been 'appier. Then… Lynn showed up." The redhead's face contorted into an expression of pain and anger for a moment, but after sipping her drink, the mood had passed and she continued, voice as dark and bitter as her coffee.

"We were on our las' kishin egg when Lynn showed up. Fox witch, ya know – made illusions 'n' fire 'n' all tha', like those ol' stories. She started spoutin' off nonsense 'bout 'ow I was giv'n ta Ko ta watch 'er, make sure 'er witch powers dinna grow 'till I 'came a Death-Scythe and Lor' Death could kill 'er 'imself. Lies, th' 'ole lot of it, but I couldn' convince 'er. Doubt sown, Lynn lef', 'n' we came back ta Shibusen.

"We fought af'er tha'. All th' time. Got real bad by th' time Lor' Death sent us out ag'in. Our wavelengths were outta synch, I was tryin' ta calm 'er 'n' figure things out, 'n' she dinna trust me anymore. We were sen' ta get Lynn of all people, 'n' we fought 'er for a while 'afore she started tauntin' Ko ag'in. She convinced 'er tha' she could 'elp Ko get 'er memories back, 'elp 'er get stronger so she'd nevah hafta worry 'bout Death ag'in. Stupid girl – she believed tha' witch's lies. Dropped me like a useless antique 'n' went with 'er. When I tied ta call 'er back, Ko attacked me – gave me this scar, she did." Tracing a finger over the whole of the scar bisecting her right eye, she smirked grimly. "Almos' lost mah eye coz of it, lucky I didn'. She chased me 'n' kept attackin'. Couldn' do nothin' coz I loved 'er, so I just ran as fast as I could all th' way back ta Shibusen. Mission failure, new rogue witch out there, 'n' spent a couple months in recov'ry. Once I was deemed 'fit for duty' ag'in, I wen' back ta classes 'n' started all over findin' a new partner."

Pausing for a moment, she sipped her coffee, not sure where to go from here. Settling on a course after a few moments, she concluded, "It 'twern't seein' 'er ag'in tha' scared me, Jayne. She knew 'bout you; e'en what I call ya. I was scared she'd come fer ya, lass."

"Well, you don't need to worry about that. I can handle myself, especially against that two-timing, backstabbing, bitch of a whore." Seething but calm, Jayne recounted the whole story, committing it to memory. A low, simmering anger burned deep within her, and the need to protect was (almost) outweighed by the desire for revenge. This was one person the corsair would hunt until the end of her days, vowing to make her pay for everything that she had done wrong. She would regret ever even meeting Ellis; that was for sure.

For now, however, she settled on simple things. Taking the now empty mugs, she set them in the kitchen sink (filling them with water so they wouldn't stain), then strode purposefully to lift her girlfriend to her feet. Grinning broadly to hide her hidden rage, she turned and tossed a nearby backpack at the redhead, startling her as she fumbled to catch it.

"Get some clothes packed, Winchester. I'm not letting you stay here and wallow in depression. Besides, you've got nothing decent to eat in this house, and I feel like a home-cooked meal tonight. Jeez, to think that I need to keep an eye on you – such a hassle." With a smirk over her shoulder, she saw the puzzled expression relax into a soft smile and the nod that accompanied it. She waited by the door as Ellis walked carefully into the bedroom, absently listening to the sounds of the other moving around with her usual self-assuredness. But with the cowgirl out of the room, Jayne allowed a scowl to form over her features once again.

She would pay. Kohaku Allegra, your days are numbered.