Bittersweet [Jack Briggs]

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

At her words, Jack only grinned back. He may have had a reputation with the ladies, but she knew better. Very few actually caught his eye, and even fewer had captured his heart. "Oh, I've already fo'gotten you...Miss?" he teased with a wink. Even if he never saw her after this night, he would always remember her, and the feel of her lips against his own.

With her suggestion about sharing the cooking, he spread his hands with an almost shy grin. "Alright. Maybe you can teach me a thing o' two." The thought of her leaving still weighed heavily in the back of his mind, but at least now he had the promise of at least one more dinner with her. One more goodbye. It was more than he, an inept criminal, deserved.

When she responded to his words about the tattoo, he knew he could not let this stand for another time. "I'm afraid you've the wrong idea about me, luv..." This was not something he could let go any longer. She had this idea of him, this romanticized view amplified by his rescue of her. Sure, he was a good man at heart. But she did not know him, not really. How could she care for someone she did not truly know?

He reached back out, cupped her hand in both of his. "Look, I don' think this story can wait. If ya have a minute, I'd like ta tell you now. If not, as soon as possible. I think ya need ta know about the real me befo' you decide if ya wanna..." come back to me, he wanted to say, but couldn't. "If you wanna keep bein' around me." he said, rubbing his thumb gently over the inside of her wrist.

[Sian]

With Jack's tease about having forgotten her already Sian made a look of surprise that didn't last long before she was just smiling. Shaking her head slightly at him. "If it's that easy you're gonna be in for some trouble."

Sian was glad he seemed to like her idea of them both being in the kitchen to make dinner. Another chance to see him before she left. She was also glad there had been no argument or fighting between them about her leaving. That was one thing she was afraid of when coming over to talk to him. "Perhaps if you practice enough while I'm away you'll be able to do all the cooking for a meal when I come back." Really it wouldn't matter, she enjoyed cooking, more-so when it wasn't just for herself.

The Companion's smile only faltered at Jack's response to her words, the ones she didn't let herself think about before speaking. Which was why they had been understandable and held no hesitation. She hadn't ran them through her mind like normal, she just spoke them.

His words buzzed around her mind for moments before she could muster a reply. Sure he hadn't been one to share too much about himself before, or things from his past. It didn't matter though; what was done, was done. Sian knew his life tended to be less than licit and she didn't care.

She understood he needed to tell her this though, it was obvious. As it was obvious that it wasn't a good story, with the worry she felt coming from him and his words. Sian had no intention of not being around him though, for the first time in her life she felt things. Things that were beyond what a Companion was allowed to feel. She wasn't going to give at up easily.

Placing her free-hand on top of his she nodded with a smile, "I've got plenty of minutes I can spare, Jack. I'm not in any kind of rush."

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

Jack smirked at Sian, his face tilting downwards as he gave her a warm, dark look from hooded eyes. "Trouble, luv, is somethin' I'm familiar with." He winked. "An'...you teach me ta cook, I'll make you anythin' you wanna eat. Whenever ya like." He smiled more genuinely then.

When she said she had time, his stomach dropped a bit. Of course he wanted to tell her, but he was worried at the same time. Worried that after this, there would be no dinner. Alternatively, he was a bit relieved. He would finally rid himself of the weight he'd been carrying since their relationship had progressed from...well, from business-only.

Tugging her gently towards his couch, he nodded at it. "Have a seat, luv?" Releasing her, Jack moved to the kitchen and took down a couple of glass tumblers. A couple of ice cubes rattled into each. He poured a couple of fingers of rum in each, then glanced over at the woman on the couch. Sighing, he raised one of the glasses to his lips and knocked it back before pouring in a couple more fingers. Lifting the glasses, he returned to the couch and pressed one of the tumblers into her hand without asking.

Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, he rested his elbows on his knees and gently swirled his glass, the ice tinkling merrily. "This has a lot ta do with the man that...took ya, luv. See, me an' him?" He met her eyes, then looked away. Shame in his features for the first time since he'd met her. "We used ta be mates." Raising his free hand, the tattooed hand, he read it aloud. "24703. This is a prison tattoo, Sian. 'Spect that doesn't come as much of a surprise ta you, my havin' been in prison..." He raised his glass and took a very small sip. "I jus' gotta get off my chest why, if you can stand ta hear the story."

[Sian]

Sian kept her smile as Jack led her to the couch, nodding as she obeyed his request. She was letting him take all the time he needed on this. There would be no rushing or pushing from her, it was his story to tell. The Companion would stay into the morning if need be with no hesitation.

She watched as he moved through the kitchen, trying to tone down her usual intensity that she tended to have when it came to Jack. Watched as he poured a drink, tossed it back then poured himself another. Then proceeded to come back to her, pressing one of the glasses into her hands. There was no arguments, Sian took the alcohol, though didn't take a drink right away. It perhaps wasn't the best idea for her to begin drinking, with the trend that seemed to happen when one of them was intoxicated.

Jack finally began to talk to her, the story was on it's way. However the start was a bit unsettling to her. Sian had neglected to ask Jack about Clayton apparently knowing him, perhaps she was afraid of the answer or she just wanted to forget that all ever happened. Even though she would wear scars from it for a long time if not for the rest of her life. She could see the shame he was feeling, it made her feel bad about the situation. When he looked away from her, Sian took a drink from the glass. It was half gone now.

No him being in jail didn't surprise her very much, she had assumed he'd had his fair share of troubles with the law after they began their business together. It must have to do with Clayton, since Jack brought him up. Knowing the kind of man he was, even though it'd only been a week or so he had her, made her worried. Though it did stir up her memories, her fears. She had been scared to death while that bastard had his hands on her. It was him who kept her from sleeping alone, being alone in general. Even though she knew he wasn't coming back, it didn't cease her concerns.

When Jack paused, Sian took another drink - finishing it. Though she still smiled at him though less confident now, there was worry in her eyes. Not about herself, but for him. "I'm not going anywhere Jack, unless you change your mind or just want me to go." Sian's voice was a whisper to him. She re-positioned her right hand toward him, but not being overly obvious that she was offering him her hand. If he wanted to take it he was welcome to, but she wouldn't force him to help her comfort his mind.

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

Jack was grateful she was willing to sit still and listen to him, but it was not as if he expected anything less from her. She had years of politeness ingrained in her, but it was more than just that. Sian was a good person, a good friend. He could see the worry in her eyes, knew it was for his benefit. Jack sighed and glanced down at her hand.

After a moment's hesitation, he reached out and laced his fingers with hers. It made him feel good for a minute. Stronger. As if he could be better, as if he could be the type of man that could be loved.

But then guilt wracked him. He did not release her hand, did not want her to think he did not want her comfort. But holding her made him feel like a liar and a coward. He glanced at the carpet between his boots, took another quick sip.

"I'm not changin' my mind, sweet'eart. I jus' need ta...collect me thoughts." He raised his glass and pressed the cold condensation to his forehead, closing his eyes as he began his story. "We were partners, once upon a time. Teenagers playin' at crime." A sigh, hissed through his teeth. Lowering his glass, he opened his eyes and sipped again.

"We met this girl. Name o' Tara. She ran with us a while, had a bit of a crush on Clayton." His mind cast back to a pretty redhead with brilliant blue eyes. A smile to light up the quickly darkening lives of the two youths who took her in. "Turns out the life o' crime didn't suit 'er much, but she clung ta Clayton even as he found other women. Even as he turned into a monster." Jack's hand clenched involuntarily on hers a moment before he stood up, releasing her. Tipping back his glass, he finished it off with a cough.

He set the glass on the table and began pacing, hands shoved into his pockets. "Now, I ain't gonna lie to ya, Sian. You know I've killed people..." He winced at these words, head cocking. Death-dealing was not something the criminal was fond of, and avoided at all costs. "You seen me drop that man to the pavement in the warehouse, saw me stab another. You saw what 'appened ta Clayton. I'm sure you're smart enough ta know that ain't the first time I've taken lives, but I know you gotta realize I don't take pleasure in it. Don't do it if I can help it. Murder don't sit right wit' me, never did." He was rambling now, clearly agitated.

Clayton, though..." Jack stopped moving. One hand slipped from his pocket and he clenched his fist tightly. "He developed a taste fo' blood. Like no one I've ever seen." He glanced back at Sian, willing her to understand. "He was my mate. When he made excuses, I tried ta believe him. But one day...One day he tried ta get me to do this job wit' him. It was too dangerous. I refused. Some high-rankin' politician or 'nother, he wanted ta rob 'im blind. Next day in the papers, I hear the guy got hisself dead an' Clayton's suspect number one."

He resumed his pacing, running one hand through his hair. "Now, Tara's pregnant wit' his kid, right? So she's his alibi an' he gets away free. Trouble is, she starts havin' second thoughts. She doesn't want him around the kid, thinks he's losin' his mind. I tell 'er I'll help her however I can, she wants ta recant her testimony...so she does. They arrest 'im again." He moved to the counter, turning his back on Sian and gripping the edge of the countertop with white-knuckled intensity. "He escapes. Dunno to this day how, but he does. An' he gets ta her before I can." Jack fell silent. His eyes were tearing up, but he had his back to her so she could not see. He does not speak for several moments.

[Sian]

He took the subtle offer of her hand, Sian felt some relief about that for a moment. Though she silently feared Jack only did so to please her, not to claim any actual comfort from her. Despite the current mood of the room his touch warmed her.

Sian nodded at his words, about not changing his mind. Though she couldn't recall if he'd ever called her by that particular pet-name before. Not that it mattered of course.

Then the words continued to leave Jack's mouth, forming a story -- one that was obviously painful to be told. When his hand clenched hers, she squeezed back slightly before he let go. Leaving her to continue sitting while he paced.

Killing was the only way sometimes, a person's only choice in survival. That was the only way it should be, but unfortunately there were those who made their profit on death. There was a look in those kinds of people's eyes, an addiction to the blood and chaos. Sian never saw that look in Jack, that's why she stuck around. She sees it in her father's face every time she talks to him, what little conversing she allows anyway. Knew Minerva Colt probably had that same look. Murder didn't sit right with the companion as well, for rather obvious reasons. Her mother, nearly her own self as well.

Deja-vu, except the roles reversed. Jack had his back to her now, she could assume why. The reason he didn't want to meet her eyes. Sian could also assume what the next part of the story was going to be and part of her could relate to what had happened to Tara. If Clayton's job hadn't been to kidnap the Companion she would have been long gone before any help could arrive. Her luck would have run out; she survived an attempt on her life once but only just.

Sian pushed aside those thoughts, they weren't relevant at the moment. She could reminisce in her own fears later. Quietly she stood, even slipped off her heels to help keep the silence. Walking over toward Jack she was careful to not come into view of his face, letting him keep the anonymity of his look. She had yet to hear much of anything that would keep her away and she felt a need to express that she was still here; for him.

Standing behind him now Sian reached up and lightly gripped his left bicep, squeezing gently. She wouldn't force him to look at her, nor did she speak. Her want to fully embrace him was being held at bay.


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[[As usual let me know if I need to adjust anything <3]]

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

Jack lowered his head at her touch. He wanted to turn, to hold her and to take her into his arms. To let her take away his sad memories. But, he didn't deserve it. His arm lightly tugged out of her grip, and he turned to face her. "He told me she fell down the stairs..."

His thoughts drifted back to finding her on the floor. His eyes closed, a single tear tracking down the curve of his cheek. He impatiently wiped it away. "She was dead. The baby, too." His eyes flicked to one side, his jaw tightening. "I didn't know what ta do. He begged me ta help 'im. I told th'authorities he was wit' me that night an' they ruled it off as an accident."

He sighed, glancing down at the floor. "In the back o' my mind I knew he was lyin', but I didn't know what else ta do. He was my partner, my friend." His head shook, shame still creasing his features. "'Course, you can prob'ly guess what happened. He turned it 'round on me, said I was jealous. Said I was crazy, that I thought the baby was mine." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "He...had stabbed 'er befo' she fell. I didn't know. They found my knife in 'er. He'd taken it from my room."

Jack stared past her, looking slightly afraid for a moment. "I didn't get sent ta jus' any prison, luv. They sent me ta the one we lock all our crazies in. Shot me up wit' drugs an' stuffed me wit' pills, kept me strapped down at night. Tattooed...this on me." He lifted his hand, frowned at the number. "I didn't have a name fo' all that time. They knew me as the number."

Jack gripped her forearms gently, dipping his head slightly to look into her eyes. "Alrigh', so this is who I am. A man who helped his old friend and apparent ruttin' psycho get away wit' killing his girl, then who was driven nearly crazy jus' 'cause people thought I was already crazy." He held her at arm's length. Clearly tortured. "I let 'im get away with it."

[Sian]

If Jack hadn't turned to face her she might have felt hurt that he pulled away from her. As it was though they were face to face now. Sian did her best to keep her look neutral as he spoke, but it was hard. Especially when the tear had fallen, Jack wiped it away quickly, not giving her the chance to do so for him.

There was a mix of anger and sympathy welling up inside the companion. Anger at Clayton and the situation he placed at Jack's feet. Sympathy because this man was a good person, despite his own opinions and didn't deserve to be treated as he had been. It was obvious, Jack and Clayton had been friends; that bastard hadn't the same courtesy when it came to friends. Instead he hung Jack out to dry when he tried to help, which only fueled her anger. It was a good thing he was already dead or Sian would have a mind to put a bullet in him herself.

As the story continued she became less concerned with hiding how she was feeling, her emotions becoming more obvious in her look.

When Jack took hold of her arms the anger in her faltered, only the sympathy left in her eyes. When he began Sian shook her head softly. No, he was wrong. She gripped his arms in return, "You helped your friend, that part I believe is you. The rest of that..it's not who you are Jack." She let go of one of his arms to take hold of his hand that held his shame. Sian held his hand in hers, glancing down, running her thumb across his tattoo before looking back at him. "This doesn't define who you are, you do that. You're not some monster, you're a good person."

If she could take away all of his pain she would, she wanted to. It was unclear if it was possible or even how. "It was a terrible sequence of events, points in time. You helped a man you called friend, someone you cared about. That's more defining about you. What Clayton did was a testament to who he was. Don't you dare compare yourself to him." Some of the anger returned with her final words, in her eyes - her voice. The thought that he may think he was just like Clayton upset her.