[SCENE] [Flashback] Jake and Angel in "Post SL-9 Anger Management"
Jake: *Spring of 2015, one evening, Officer Jake Marshall sits at the counter of a bar nearby the police station that is popular with the men and women of law enforcement. Clearly disgruntled, he slams back a glass of whiskey to forget for just one moment that his brother is gone, Lana turned his back on him, and he's now a patrolman with no hope of getting promoted.*
Angel: *a 29-year-old Angel Starr- a few days ago it would have been Detective- slams the door shut behind her as she stalks up to the bar. She orders a drink and takes it with hands trembling from rage and a dozen other emotions- the past few days for her have been a non-stop Hell. She leans forward over her drink, her hair covering her face, totally disconnected*
Jake: *he looks to his right to give Angel a glance before returning his gaze to his drink. When he speaks, he's sullen and deadpan.* Hey Angel.
Angel: *looks up at the sound of a familiar voice; in the haze of her anger it takes her a moment to recognize the man as Jake* Oh, Detective, I-- *her face darkens and she stops* ...Jake. *she practically has to bite out the name*
Jake: How was your day. *the way he says this, it doesn't sound like a question -- he finishes off the last gulp of his drink and gestures to the bartender for another one*
Angel: Well, what do you- *her voice rises with emotion and she pushes it down, trying to make it steady* -What do you think? *she stares down into her glass and then raises it to her mouth hurriedly*
Jake: Hm. *he watches his glass get refilled with the golden brown liquid* I ain't no detective no more but, lemme guess: not so good.
Angel: *she speaks into her glass and then drains it* No... No, not good at all. *she looks up and then decisively gets off of her seat and takes the one next to him, but it's a heavy movement as though she has to make effort to do it- she seems to be so focused on her own anger* What do you- how have- ngh... *she doesn't know how to word what she wants to say and instead calls for another drink*
Jake: *takes a few gulps and sets the glass on the counter; he's still not looking at her, and his hair hides his peripheral vision* I haven't been able to find any answers...
Angel: I- I know, I... *she tries to swallow her emotion down again, but fails to, raising a slim hand to her mouth in frustration* It's as though there- there are none. There's... nothing.
Jake: ...Yep. *emotion break through in his tone, and it's of bitter frustration* Nothing. No reason, no sense... *takes in a large gulp of whiskey and slams it down* None behind why they did this to us. *pause* The two chiefs asides, the only one left is... *grips his drink, grits his teeth* Goodman...!
Angel: Goodman. *she lowers her hand and bows her head, smiling totally without humor* Because he was harmless. B-because they... It's just... It's so unfair.
Jake: Right. 'Cause he's harmless. Real convenient. *takes off his hat and runs his hands through his hair once, elbows resting on the counter* ...They got us. Damn. Didn't think they'd have the nerve. Didn't think Lana would... heh. *shakes his head*
Angel: N-neither did I. *she resists the threat of her eyes welling up with tears- she's never been one to show emotion; she's known for being the hard-as-nails Cough-Up Queen. But with that comes the realization that she isn't any more, and she presses her shaky fingertips to her throat* I never thought they'd actually... And now...
Jake: We didn't do nothing wrong. *pauses to take a drink* ...We played fair. They played dirty. *drinks again* This ain't right. The whole thing stinks.
Angel: We did. We... I don't know wh-where we went wrong... Or if we did at all. There was no reason... *she looks up at Jake* I don't know what to do. *her shaky voice has a note of desperation in it- she feels like she's at the end of her rope*
Jake: *finally turns to look at her with a small look of surprise, and his voice turns soft* ...No. We didn't do nothing wrong. We were doing everything right. *he glares, and his tone shifts* We're not like Goodman. We were too good for them. They got scared.
Angel: You... think so? *she wants to believe it, but she knows she's lost everything important to her with no chance of getting it back any time soon* Scared... over what, though? It's not like... n-not like we'll ever get the chance to find out.
Jake: *simply, and without missing a beat* Yes we will. *tilts his head back to finish off the drink and gets the bartender to refill*
Angel: *her voice is soft* W...what...? Jake? *she almost sounds pleading at the idea of something to grasp onto again- indeed, she reaches out and her hand settles on his arm. She's holding her drink in the other, and it's nearly finished*
Jake: *he downs half the glass turns his head to face her. He's mostly composed, but his anger, determination and hurt are beginning to show through. Affected by the alcohol, his movements are exagerrated as he talks.* Those two -- Gant and Lana -- they know how good we are. We were asking all the right questions, going to all the right people... Don't you see? We were damned close... We can't stop now. We can't let 'em win!
Angel: I know. I just, it's... They had to go ahead and fire me. You're an officer. You can still... *she could go on with her own self-pity, but she's been drowning in it for the past few days. She struggles to shove it underneath the surface, biting her lip* Do you think we're close? To the truth?
Jake: Damned right we are. *actually not too sure of this himself, but saying it makes him feel more confident* Yeah, I'm still an officer, and they're gonna regret not getting rid of me, too. *punctuates this with a drink of whiskey, and gestures to Angel with his glass as he rambles on* And you... you can still help me. You're good. Don't you let this get you down, Angel. The case ain't completely closed yet. This ain't over. It ain't ever gonna be over 'til the truth's come out. You with me, right?
Angel: *closes her eyes briefly as she listens to him, the words instilling her with the same hesitant courage- but the drive is there, it definitely is* Of course. We can't let this die. Because of... Because of Neil, and everything else. S...something isn't right. *she meets his gaze* That... leaves it to us to fix it, if nobody else will. And... *she exhales* nobody will.
Jake: *he's glad to see there's still some spark left in her, but he doesn't smile, and his brother's name delivers a sharp pang in his chest* ...Yeah. Nothing's right. Nothing's right. *his left elbow resting on the counter, he props his head against his hand, fingers shielding his eyes* ...Neil...... *falls silent*
Angel: *her voice is a whisper* I'm sorry. *she hasn't moved her hand from his forearm. She sets down her glass with the other and rests it on top of the other* It... I... I can't stop thinking about it.
Jake: *shakes his head* Me neither. *silently gestures to the bartender for another order of whiskey. He turns his head so his hand is at his temple and he's facing Angel, but his gaze is cast downwards* ...Yeah. We can't let it die. *pause* Even if Lana's willing to.
Angel: *her features change from a dark anger to a more open, vicious one* I hate her. *she calls for another drink, her teeth gritted* You're right. We have to do this.
Jake: *sounds more defeated now* Something's gotten to her... dunno what. *sips from his refill* Dunno what could make her do this. 'Specially after all that.
Angel: I don't, either. And to think I admired her. Well, we'll find out. *she raises her refilled glass back to her mouth* We'll... we'll find out why. All of it.
Jake: *the corner of his mouth turns to form a bitter smirk* Heh. *looks up at her* Only thing... that could be making things worse now is if I lost you, too.
Angel: ... *her eyes widen briefly and then relax. She murmurs* No... No, you won't. If you'll have it... I'll stand by you. Without Goodman... Without anybody else. We can figure this out. We have no other choice now. *a note of sorrow enters her voice on this last sentence*
Jake: *when he chuckles, there's a hint of sadness to it -- he's feeling cynical, but Angel's words are appreciated* Yep. Everyone else... they're lost causes. *sips from his glass* Only got each other now.
Angel: Right... *she tries to sound more confident about it than she is, running a hand through her hair and giving a bitter laugh* God...
Jake: *He knows she wouldn't dare let anybody else see her like this. He watches his friend and former co-worker as he drinks; his vision is lightly blurred. It's hard seeing her so distraught, but the alcohol makes it easier to take it in. When she laughs, his hand reaches out to brush loose strands of hair away from her face, pushing it behind her shoulder.*
Angel: *stops suddenly and looks up, giving Jake a strange, disconnected look; she stills, just staring at him, not sure what to say or think or do* ...
Jake: *he stares down at the ice in his drink, swirling it once before bringing the glass to his lips again, saying nothing*
Angel: ... *she looks away, feeling shame, suddenly, for some reason she cannot place; at the same time she wants to reach for him, because what he's saying is the only path she has left- that the both of them have left*
* * *
Jake: *Later that night, Jake drunkenly fumbles with his keys as he opens the door to his home. Angel is with him, as she escorted him to his place to make sure he gets home all right, and they agreed to continue their conversation in his apartment.*
Jake: *voice raised, his tone bitter* ...and Goodman? Hah! *tires to insert his key -- he misses once before he gets it* Goodman couldn't catch a cold!
Angel: That's... right, you're absolutely right. *both of them are considerably inebriated, and Angel's top is askew, her hair a little mussed-looking, though she doesn't seem to notice as she leans on the door frame* Too good for this line of work. And by good... I mean naive, of course. Not good at his job or anything.
Jake: Too 'fraid of hurtin' people's feelin's... Heh. As if a detective can afford to walk on eggshells! *turns the knob, and he practically stumbles in. His place is a mess, but he doesn't care. He takes off his hat and tries to put it up on the wall rack next to six other cowboy hats -- it falls, but he doesn't bother to pick it up, or even look at it*
Angel: *follows him inside, placing a hand on the wall for balance and slipping out of her high heels. She picks them up in one hand and casts her eyes about the inside of his home, never minding the mess. She sways a little as she trails after him* Nnh... Yes... I suppose that's why he got to stay. Safe...
Jake: *shuts the door and locks it with two quick, angry movements. He stalks over to his couch and shoves some newspapers and junk mail off of the cushions before slumping down on one side, letting out a sigh as he does* Son of a bitch won't believe me when I say somethin' fishy's been goin' on.
Angel: *stands before him in front of the couch, looking uncertain. After a moment she places her heels on the floor* Well, he's probably scared. He... doesn't want to wind up where we are now.
Jake: *closes his eyes and shakes his head* Don't matter. He should be more co-operative. Shouldn't be a yellow-bellied coward.
Angel: We'll show him. Goddamned Goodman and everybody else... *she places a hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut; she's more drunk than she'd like to be*
Jake: Goddamned Goodman. And... and Lana. *opens his eyes* ...She's behind it somehow. She's gotta be. What she did... Wouldn't make any damned sense otherwise. *looks up at Angel* You just gonna be on your feet like that?
Angel: Well... Yes, it's not as though it's much my place to be here. *she stares at him down on the couch, distracted by the topic of Lana- another thing that's been tearing at her for weeks on end*
Jake: *rubs his eyes* 'S hard for me to talk to you when you're all the way up there. Least sit down so we can be face-to-face...
Angel: *pauses as though she's about to say something and then doesn't, instead just sinking down onto the couch next to him* Alright...
Jake: *his rage has yet to wear off as he continues* She's still givin' me the cold shoulder... Won't even look my direction when I'm nearby.
Angel: ...I think... it has to be her fault. Something that... I don't know. *she sounds disgusted*
Jake: *he sounds equally disgusted -- rationally, he knows something major must have happened to cause Lana to behave like this, and that she may have good reason for not telling him what it is, but he's venting* I'll bet. Heh. What did all that time we spent together mean t'her, I wonder. What did Neil... *doesn't finish this thought*
Angel: Maybe it didn't mean anything to her. *she is speaking out of anger now* Hasn't she proved it? With you... And with me, too. I looked up to her. It's just... ugh. *she puts her face in her hands*
Jake: No... No, I don't wanna believe that. *eyes her as he speaks flatly* ...But it sure as hell is easy to believe, ain't it? With all she's done.
Angel: You don't want to, but everything points to it, doesn't it? I... don't want to see it either, but I do. *she raises her head and sees him looking at her*
Jake: ...You gotta stop hidin' yer face like that.
Angel: *murmurs* Like what?
Jake: *instead of answering, he gets back on topic* ...Her and Gant. Something's definitely up 'tween 'em.
Angel: ...Of course. *she sounds defeated, slumping against the couch* But it'll be so difficult to figure out what.
Jake: *looks down at the empty spot on the couch between them* If you ask me... I don't think I want to know. But I'm gonna find out. Has to be done...
Angel: Yes... *she looks more subdued, concentrating on the vague throbbing of her headache*
Jake: *he notices how quiet she is after a few beats, and he turns his head to face her* You all right?
Angel: Mm... No, I'm not. *another humorless smile* It's so hard to hold all of my anger inside.
Jake: Ah. *frowns* Why you keepin' it bottled up inside?
Angel: Because losing control of myself... That's not what I do. That's not what the Cough-Up Queen does. *she bites her lip* I can't let her die. Or any of this. That's why I... why we have to do this.
Jake: *gestures with his arm* Nobody's lookin', and I ain't here to judge. Let it all out.
Angel: That's... *she looks at him strangely, and then gives a short laugh* You're kind, aren't you, Jake Marshall...
Jake: *smirks at that* C'mon now. It ain't healthy. Here -- *covers his eyes with one hand* Even I won't see it.
Angel: *she laughs more openly now; it's hesitant and feels strange after all of the misery in both of their lives lately* What are you doing...? Stop that. *she reaches out to pull his hand down but her drunken state causes her to overcorrect herself and her hand winds up on his chest*
Jake: *lets out a surprised laugh when he feels her hand on his chest, his eyes still covered* What are you doin'? I ain't hearin' any anger!
Angel: That was- I- *she feels the heat rise in her face, both from the drink and her own embarassment, and withdraws her hand, finally managing to pull his down. By this time, she's leaning forward on the couch towards him* It was an accident. Don't you think I was doing that on purpose.
Jake: *he chuckles; his eyes are closed, and his tone is playful* Whatever you say. I'm still waitin'.
Angel: You're not getting anything out of me. I don't cough up what I'd rather keep to myself. *a faint smile lights up her face*
Jake: *a broad grin* You're gonna lose yer only chance to let it all out when I count to five...
Jake: One... two... three...
Angel: *watches him carefully*
Jake: Four... five. *he's still grinning when he opens his eyes cautiously* What's that I see? A smile? I'm disappointed.
Angel: Is that all? Your disappointment? *her smile doesn't fade- the amusement shows in her eyes, along with her general weariness*
Jake: Why? *relieved to see her smiling, he moves his hand to his face again and smoothes her hair back with his fingers, to get a better view* Were ya expectin' somethin' else?
Angel: No... *she closes her eyes briefly against the touch of his fingers- it feels nice, and she doesn't think to ask why he's doing it* But it's nice to see a smile on your face, too.
Jake: *instead of lowering his hand, he lets his hand rest to the side, on the couch* You should wear it back more.
Angel: Oh... You think so? *she looks away* I always thought that this style suited me best.
Jake: *stares at her, examining her features* You shouldn't hide yer face... it's nice. *pause* Did I ever tell you that? Not the first time I've noticed...
Angel: Oh... *there is notable warmth in her voice* You haven't. Thank you. *she finds herself staring at his jawline now, for some reason*
Jake: *doesn't respond; he continues staring at her, oddly fascinated by the woman before him. The alcohol is making her skin glow nicely.*
Angel: *there is a long break of silence and Angel doesn't move from where she is, positioned not-too-comfortably over his knees. She doesn't look at him, but continues staring at his jaw and neck*
Jake: ...What? *he shifts his posture a bit, leaning in closer towards her* What are you lookin' at? *he looks into her eyes and thinks to himself how nice her eyelashes are*
Angel: Nothing, I- *she looks up and locks her gaze with his, and suddenly she's holding her breath- she knows they're both probably thinking the same thing, and the cloud of alcohol makes it so much easier to think about* ...You.
Jake: Funny that. *he doesn't move, but he looks at her intently as he states the obvious* I'm lookin' at you.
Angel: I noticed. ... *she lowers her gaze, breathing out through her nose, and finally just gives into the obvious- climbing up onto his lap and pressing her lips to his*
Jake: *closes his eyes when she leans in; he does move his body just yet, but he parts his lips when she kisses him, and after a moment he leans in towards her*
Angel: *opens her mouth to his, closing her eyes and tilting her head; after some moments pass she pulls away slightly, though not very far. Her lips brush across his as she gives a low, rushed whisper* J-Jake, we...
Jake: *he was about to bring his arm down to her when she speaks. He's leaned in very close now, and his thoughts are in a haze -- he can't think of anything else other than how the contact feels* ...Yeah?
Angel: I just... want to make sure that we're sure... *she gives a small shudder, knowing that they both are but needing to affirm it anyway. She leans forward and puts her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body to his*
Jake: *strokes her hair -- it takes a few seconds, but some sense begins to return to him* Just... once. *he brings his other hand to her face, cupping it gently, fingers lightly brushing her neck* Just once.
Angel: *the anger is still there, along with the resentment and hate and she doubts that the total feeling of loss will ever go away, but for the moment, right now, with Jake- the only person left who can relate with her over this entire mess, who got it worse than she did- it all fades a little, if only briefly, and she kisses him again, saying no more, just feeling*
Jake: *He kisses back; his movements grow more eager, more confident when he slowly pushes her down to the couch. Putting all thoughts aside, he indulges in her, takes in her scent -- compared to chugging down whiskey, this is a far better way to forget his troubles... and as his hand explores the curves of her body, he knows he won't be able to stop at just once, and merely days later he will prove himself right.*