writers_muses | 100.1.D. Until all the old crap...
100.1.D. "I suspect an opportunity like this won't come back around until all the old crap is swept away and gone."
Co-written with agentfraser
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
It was early. Way, way too early for James' liking the first day back at work after a few days off. He didn't want to be awake, let alone upright, and the sooner he got breakfast into him, the better. He never operated well without food, which is why he was standing in his brother's kitchen half way through a banana while he waited for his toast to cook and the kettle to boil. He was still in two minds about even being here. Sure, it was practical and it meant neither brother had to be alone in the wake of the shit hitting the fan - again - but James just continued to feel displaced all over again. He had been happy with Harri, and settled, for the first time in a long time. He just didn't think it had been fair to her to remain in the relationship when he couldn't assure her his feelings for Izzy were gone, when they just weren't. He still didn't know exactly what was going to happen with Izzy, or what they had even hoped to achieve with the shit they pulled. Because of all that, staying with Mark until he knew where he stood probably was a good idea.
But he no longer felt settled, or happy, or content, and he felt like again he was forced to start his life all over again. He had lost track of how many times he done that, or attempted to do that because clearly he failed miserably. And the timing couldn't have been more fucked. He knew no one had any way of predicting Ali would lose her baby. If they did, he would never have rocked the boat like he did with everything else. Ali wasn't coping, and Andrew was barely hanging onto his own emotions by a thread. When James left the hospital late the night before, Ali had been awake for a few hours, but refusing to talk about anything to do with the miscarriage, insisting she was glad it happened. It wasn't even denial. Ali's defense mechanism had always been to tell herself to get the fuck over the things and deal. Only with something like her baby dying, it wasn't ever going to work without it all coming crashing down around her. Andrew, on the other hand, was so stressed and emotional that he was making himself sick. Not being able to talk to Ali about their loss, too, had him run ragged with what he should or shouldn't say. James felt helpless, and all he could do was go home when Andrew suggested numbly to him that he didn't need to stick around. James still couldn't work out if Andrew was politely telling him to fuck off out of his sight or just requesting the need for less eyes gawping at him and Ali. He really hoped it was the latter.
He finished making his breakfast and carried it all through to the dining table on a tray with a pot of coffee. He was just about to start on his Vegemite on toast when pile of Mark's work files in a box at the end of the table caught his eye. He raised his eyebrows curious, taking a mouthful of his coffee. Totally Mark's fault for leaving him lying around in communal area. He pushed up out of his seat again and went over to the box to have a look. Most of it was boring, until he came to one file that definitely piqued his interest. He was just about to delve deeper into the case notes when Mark came into the dining room, still in just his pyjama pants and hair messed from sleep.
"Fucking hell, Jamie," Mark growled tiredly and batted his brother's hand away from his work files. "That's confidential shit. Keep your fucking grubby cop hands off it. Two fucking nights and you're already being a pain in my arse," he complained and flopping into the closest chair reaching for the coffee pot. He had a pisser of a headache and after the disaster with Fiona, even thought it was days after, he was still affected by it. Hearing the string of news about Ali, too, hadn't helped his mood and now he was trying to grow the balls to grip them firmly in both hands to go see her.
James went back to his chair and back to his toast, resisting the urge to make a comment about half of Mark's fraud clients probably already being in his own case files, but Mark didn't know he was SS and he didn't want to touch that can of worms yet. One day he would, but today wasn't that day. "Why didn't you tell me you handled Iz's sister divorce?" he asked and took a large bit of his toast, watching Mark expectantly.
Mark looked up with a frown. "What? I didn't. I've only done one divorce since I got back, and it's all over. I just need to serve the papers on the bloke's attorney. Papers you shouldn't be fucking touching," he had to add again for emphasis.
"Yeah, you did," James insisted with a snort. "Can't even remember your own fucking clients. You're worse than me and I have amnesia and recovering from a coma. Fiona Kane," he said, pointing to the box with his piece of toast. "Izzy's big sister. One of them, anyway. She got divorced sometime last week. I thought you met her."
It was probably a good thing Mark had little colour in his cheeks from the headache, otherwise he would have paled dramatically. "No, you said Izzy's sisters have kids!" he threw back, his voice a little higher than he anticipated it should be. "I've heard you say loads of times she's an aunt!"
James laughed. "She is. Her eldest sister has a bunch of brats. Her eldest sister is a bitch. She's the one who cheated on her husband with Iz's ex fiance. The one who tried to rearrange my face, so I rearranged his balls. Not Fiona, though. She was married, but never had kids. She's non-wicked evil sister-in-law. Which I wanted to talk to you about. I want you to do our divorce."
As James continued to talk, he began to sounds further and further away to Mark. Like his ears were blocked and ringing all of a sudden. He had fucked Isabel's sister. Just when he thought things couldn't get anymore fucking messed up and screwed, this shit pile had to drop all over him. The worst part was, if she really was Izzy's sister, she would know Ali, and hence know just about his relationship history and how much he had fucked up and fucked Ali over.
She would know everything.
"Mark!" James repeated for about the tenth time, louder this time and leaning forward into Mark's line of sight. "You alright, buddy? You don't look so hot." Talk about phasing out. He had been so intent on his breakfast that he hadn't initially realised his brother wasn't listening to him and had spaced out completely. He waved his hand in front of Mark's face. "Did you hear what I said? Divorce, and I need it fast-tracked. I've even got the original anulment application. There was just some admin error and it didn't go through."
Mark put his hand up to his face to try and stop his head throbbing painfully. He was firmly convinced it was because his head was about to explode. He couldn't take any more of this. "Yeah, sure..." he mumbled distractedly and got up out of his chair again. "You know what, Jamie, I'm not feeling so hot. I'm going to call in sick and go back to bed. I must be coming down with something. Stay out of my files, tosser, or I'll spike your Vegemite with an emetic," he warned and gave James a small brotherly nudge as he passed.
James watched Mark with a small frown, getting a niggling sense there was more to this than Mark was letting on. "Are you alright, Mark? You hardly ever get sick."
"Jet lag and stupid little brother issues catching up with me," Mark said with a forced smirk. He didn't want James to know about what he did with Fiona. Nothing good was going to come of it. He shouldn't have been playing with fire in the first place, so he more than deserved to get burned. It was true what he just admitted to, and maybe he if he touched on that with Fiona rather than trying to get into her pants, she would have realised who he was. In some ways, he was glad now that she got cold feet and bolted. She obviously hadn't put two and two together as to who he was, and when she did, she wouldn't want anything more to do with him. "Pull your head in and stay out of the shit. I'm not as young as I used to be, you know. You give me more grey hair and farting on your face will be the least you have to worry about coming from me. I'm okay, Jamie. I'm just exhausted. Most days, I wake up and still think you're dead."
James felt his stomach drop and guilt crawl all over him. "I'm sorry," he mumbled and wrung his hands in front of him as he fought off the urge to tell Mark everything.
Mark stepped back to his brother and kissed the top of his head affectionately before messing his neat hair up. "You are alive, Jamie. That's all I care about."
James nodded, but he knew Mark was still wounded and damaged from his 'death' and disappearance. That's something he would never be able to make up to him, especially not this soon. "Let me know if you need anything, buddy. I'll be in the office all day." Mark just gave a slight nod and wave before he disappeared out of the room. James rubbed a hand over his face and wondered if he should mention to Izzy that Mark was Fiona's attorney...
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,686
Co-written with agentfraser
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
It was early. Way, way too early for James' liking the first day back at work after a few days off. He didn't want to be awake, let alone upright, and the sooner he got breakfast into him, the better. He never operated well without food, which is why he was standing in his brother's kitchen half way through a banana while he waited for his toast to cook and the kettle to boil. He was still in two minds about even being here. Sure, it was practical and it meant neither brother had to be alone in the wake of the shit hitting the fan - again - but James just continued to feel displaced all over again. He had been happy with Harri, and settled, for the first time in a long time. He just didn't think it had been fair to her to remain in the relationship when he couldn't assure her his feelings for Izzy were gone, when they just weren't. He still didn't know exactly what was going to happen with Izzy, or what they had even hoped to achieve with the shit they pulled. Because of all that, staying with Mark until he knew where he stood probably was a good idea.
But he no longer felt settled, or happy, or content, and he felt like again he was forced to start his life all over again. He had lost track of how many times he done that, or attempted to do that because clearly he failed miserably. And the timing couldn't have been more fucked. He knew no one had any way of predicting Ali would lose her baby. If they did, he would never have rocked the boat like he did with everything else. Ali wasn't coping, and Andrew was barely hanging onto his own emotions by a thread. When James left the hospital late the night before, Ali had been awake for a few hours, but refusing to talk about anything to do with the miscarriage, insisting she was glad it happened. It wasn't even denial. Ali's defense mechanism had always been to tell herself to get the fuck over the things and deal. Only with something like her baby dying, it wasn't ever going to work without it all coming crashing down around her. Andrew, on the other hand, was so stressed and emotional that he was making himself sick. Not being able to talk to Ali about their loss, too, had him run ragged with what he should or shouldn't say. James felt helpless, and all he could do was go home when Andrew suggested numbly to him that he didn't need to stick around. James still couldn't work out if Andrew was politely telling him to fuck off out of his sight or just requesting the need for less eyes gawping at him and Ali. He really hoped it was the latter.
He finished making his breakfast and carried it all through to the dining table on a tray with a pot of coffee. He was just about to start on his Vegemite on toast when pile of Mark's work files in a box at the end of the table caught his eye. He raised his eyebrows curious, taking a mouthful of his coffee. Totally Mark's fault for leaving him lying around in communal area. He pushed up out of his seat again and went over to the box to have a look. Most of it was boring, until he came to one file that definitely piqued his interest. He was just about to delve deeper into the case notes when Mark came into the dining room, still in just his pyjama pants and hair messed from sleep.
"Fucking hell, Jamie," Mark growled tiredly and batted his brother's hand away from his work files. "That's confidential shit. Keep your fucking grubby cop hands off it. Two fucking nights and you're already being a pain in my arse," he complained and flopping into the closest chair reaching for the coffee pot. He had a pisser of a headache and after the disaster with Fiona, even thought it was days after, he was still affected by it. Hearing the string of news about Ali, too, hadn't helped his mood and now he was trying to grow the balls to grip them firmly in both hands to go see her.
James went back to his chair and back to his toast, resisting the urge to make a comment about half of Mark's fraud clients probably already being in his own case files, but Mark didn't know he was SS and he didn't want to touch that can of worms yet. One day he would, but today wasn't that day. "Why didn't you tell me you handled Iz's sister divorce?" he asked and took a large bit of his toast, watching Mark expectantly.
Mark looked up with a frown. "What? I didn't. I've only done one divorce since I got back, and it's all over. I just need to serve the papers on the bloke's attorney. Papers you shouldn't be fucking touching," he had to add again for emphasis.
"Yeah, you did," James insisted with a snort. "Can't even remember your own fucking clients. You're worse than me and I have amnesia and recovering from a coma. Fiona Kane," he said, pointing to the box with his piece of toast. "Izzy's big sister. One of them, anyway. She got divorced sometime last week. I thought you met her."
It was probably a good thing Mark had little colour in his cheeks from the headache, otherwise he would have paled dramatically. "No, you said Izzy's sisters have kids!" he threw back, his voice a little higher than he anticipated it should be. "I've heard you say loads of times she's an aunt!"
James laughed. "She is. Her eldest sister has a bunch of brats. Her eldest sister is a bitch. She's the one who cheated on her husband with Iz's ex fiance. The one who tried to rearrange my face, so I rearranged his balls. Not Fiona, though. She was married, but never had kids. She's non-wicked evil sister-in-law. Which I wanted to talk to you about. I want you to do our divorce."
As James continued to talk, he began to sounds further and further away to Mark. Like his ears were blocked and ringing all of a sudden. He had fucked Isabel's sister. Just when he thought things couldn't get anymore fucking messed up and screwed, this shit pile had to drop all over him. The worst part was, if she really was Izzy's sister, she would know Ali, and hence know just about his relationship history and how much he had fucked up and fucked Ali over.
She would know everything.
"Mark!" James repeated for about the tenth time, louder this time and leaning forward into Mark's line of sight. "You alright, buddy? You don't look so hot." Talk about phasing out. He had been so intent on his breakfast that he hadn't initially realised his brother wasn't listening to him and had spaced out completely. He waved his hand in front of Mark's face. "Did you hear what I said? Divorce, and I need it fast-tracked. I've even got the original anulment application. There was just some admin error and it didn't go through."
Mark put his hand up to his face to try and stop his head throbbing painfully. He was firmly convinced it was because his head was about to explode. He couldn't take any more of this. "Yeah, sure..." he mumbled distractedly and got up out of his chair again. "You know what, Jamie, I'm not feeling so hot. I'm going to call in sick and go back to bed. I must be coming down with something. Stay out of my files, tosser, or I'll spike your Vegemite with an emetic," he warned and gave James a small brotherly nudge as he passed.
James watched Mark with a small frown, getting a niggling sense there was more to this than Mark was letting on. "Are you alright, Mark? You hardly ever get sick."
"Jet lag and stupid little brother issues catching up with me," Mark said with a forced smirk. He didn't want James to know about what he did with Fiona. Nothing good was going to come of it. He shouldn't have been playing with fire in the first place, so he more than deserved to get burned. It was true what he just admitted to, and maybe he if he touched on that with Fiona rather than trying to get into her pants, she would have realised who he was. In some ways, he was glad now that she got cold feet and bolted. She obviously hadn't put two and two together as to who he was, and when she did, she wouldn't want anything more to do with him. "Pull your head in and stay out of the shit. I'm not as young as I used to be, you know. You give me more grey hair and farting on your face will be the least you have to worry about coming from me. I'm okay, Jamie. I'm just exhausted. Most days, I wake up and still think you're dead."
James felt his stomach drop and guilt crawl all over him. "I'm sorry," he mumbled and wrung his hands in front of him as he fought off the urge to tell Mark everything.
Mark stepped back to his brother and kissed the top of his head affectionately before messing his neat hair up. "You are alive, Jamie. That's all I care about."
James nodded, but he knew Mark was still wounded and damaged from his 'death' and disappearance. That's something he would never be able to make up to him, especially not this soon. "Let me know if you need anything, buddy. I'll be in the office all day." Mark just gave a slight nod and wave before he disappeared out of the room. James rubbed a hand over his face and wondered if he should mention to Izzy that Mark was Fiona's attorney...
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,686