The Gemini: Emancipation

40 - Talking Heads

June 9, 2007

Sitting at the vanity, Jody's focused on her image as she weeps buckets of remorseful tears. There's devastation in her eyes and sorrow covering her makeup free face. Beginning a hiccup of weary sobs, her concentration is broken when Brie's yell is thrown up the stairs.

"Ma, Uncle D's here! We about to leave!"

Ocular streams cut. Those sobs silence too. Devastation's no more. Sorrows faded. Jody goes back to normal. Yanking a Kleenex from the tissue holder, she dabs her waterlines.

"Did you hear me?" Brie calls again.

It's impossible for anyone not to have. Helen Keller definitely did; deaf, death, and all.

Coming down the hall, "Yeah," Jody half projects.

Down in the foyer, her kids wait with gym bags slung over their shoulders like eager soldiers. She readies to speak but the oldest one is already on it.

"I won't," Brie says.

"Have a good time? Because that's what I was about to say."

"Oh." Her know-it-all expression faltering, she comes back with sarcasm. "No five minute long rules?"

"You should know all that by now." Going over to Miles, Jody hugs then pecks his forehead. "Right?"

He nods.

Over to Brie, Jody repeats the affection. Before she could place a temple kiss though, the impatient girl bolts out the open door to the running car. Miles zips off next, leaving their bodyguard behind.

"For both of our sakes, don't lose anyone this time."

"I got my hawk eyes on," Duane vows. Taking notice of Jody's puffy eyes, he questions, "We good?" A pair of words both toxic and caring. Their translation: what do you need?

Responsibly, she denies. "One night was enough. I can't run anymore, I wanna move on and I gotta have all of my senses to do that."

In honest, she has no desire to feel like shit again. Draining that full bottle of Port left her feeling the worst she had in years. The drunkenness she experienced that night was nothing like the drunkenness she used to be bestfriends with. Plainly put, it felt like death. The morning after, Jody swore that she had arrived at brimstone gates.

Yeah. She had enough of that.

Duane nods his understanding. He's about to exit, but her voice interferes.

"What else have you found out?"

Turning cagey, his view lingers outside before landing back on her. "It's cool. I got it under control."

"Mm-mm." Head-shaking, Jody's displeasure is sturdy, "I can't work like that. I need to know what's going on. A team means two," she reminds, pointing between them.

Reluctant, the tall man puts his hesitancy away. Because that's exactly what they are, a team. She came to him for help and he accepted. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. While Jody's convinced that she can make Tommy's threat disappear without a trace; Duane doubtlessly knows that shit will hit the fan. He's simply preparing himself by padding and manipulating everything as much as he can in order to save his own ass. Jody's interference would only knock him off track.

"Jill's working with them."

"Jill?" After a moment of thought, remembrance clicks. "Riot Jill? What hole did that bitch crawl out of?"

"When Tommy got out of rehab they linked and went after Damien. Damien got some of the boys together and pressured them off. They laid low after that, until a year ago. That's when Ne'Chelle came in."