Meaningful Artifacts [Edward/Jacob]

two.

Jacob can feel himself beginning to sweat. He's not sure why, but he's very much aware of a droplet rolling down his back as his eyes follow the man from one monitor to the other. They're heading towards an exhibit, World War I if his memory is correct, and looking at a weapons display. She's talking animatedly, clearly giving him some memorized speech about the exhibit and where each item supposedly originated from. He only seems partially interested in the items, clearly not surprised or excited about anything presented to him. Jacob's immediate assumption is that he's got something he wants to sell, but Angela keeps talking and talking, and then she hands him a small, white card that looks eerily identical to the one hanging around her neck. 

He can hear a gasp next to him as if they're watching a TV show.

Jacob can hear Mike crunching on some chips, but it's somehow more aggravating than it had been a couple of minutes ago. Jacob's about to reach across the space between them and wack him on the back of head when his walkie talkie sputters to life.

"Black, I need you down here." Angela's voice fizzles through the speaker. 

"Fuck." He mutters under his breath, ignoring the way he can see Mike's shoulders sag in relief. 

What was he so worried about, anyway? 

Jacob glares at him and watches as his shoulders tense back up as if the movement had never happened. He drops some of his chips trying to put his hands up in surrender.

"He's a weirdo, man. Plus, weren't you just giving him heart eyes? It's a win-win, to be honest." He rambles and Jacob actually thinks about socking him in the mouth. 

He instead stands unsteadily to his feet and heads for the door. He could feel the dread growing in the pit of his stomach with every step he took towards his destination. He honestly couldn't wrap his head around the fact that this man was back in town. Not only that, but he's clearly a new employee. Weber wasn't just handing out ID cards to random men off the street. He was going to be here for a while.

Maybe Jacob had it all wrong. Maybe they hadn't separated or gotten divorced. Maybe he'd jumped too far ahead. Maybe Bella hadn't just moved home after a breakup, maybe they'd both moved back to Forks. He didn't even give himself time to think about why he was so enticed at the end of their relationship in the first place, he just continues his journey up to the exhibition. Once he's there, he looks to Angela for further instructions.

"Jacob, I'm sure you remember Mr. Cullen," she says gesturing over to Edward, who he glances at briefly before returning his attention to her, "he'll be working here as a consultant, so I need you to unlock his office until we can get him a key." 

Honestly, she could've called one of the janitors for this. 

He doesn't say that out loud, instead waiting patiently for her to look through a digital catalog to find out what office he was supposed to be in so that Jacob could lead him to it. 

"Sixteen." She says, gesturing in the general direction of the room she was referring to. 

She gives them both a nod as if dismissing them. Jacob says nothing as he steps around them, heading towards room sixteen. The museum is built like a labyrinth and on most days it's hell because people get lost and security was usually sent to retrieve them. Though, today it was somehow worse. The long hallways lined with bland art made it hard to ignore the fact that he was definitely being watched. 

With every twist and turn, it becomes more apparent that those eyes are watching, wondering, and he can't blame them. He was the one who'd conjured up this story in his head that Edward and Bella had went their separate ways, so he couldn't be annoyed when Edward had his own theories. They were probably more accurate than what'd he'd come up with. Though, he doesn't like the feeling of his every move being monitored.

Eventually, they saunter up to room sixteen and Jacob tugs at the keys on his belt. It's then that he realizes that his hands are trembling. It's a very obvious shake as if his arms are so exhausted they've begun to quake. He flips through the keys quickly, cursing himself in his own head when he fumbled, shaking his head in annoyance, before finally letting out a quiet sigh of relief when he finally jams the correct key into the lock and hears it click. 

It's a large office, bigger than the space set up for monitoring the security cameras. Maybe it looks larger due to the fact that it's empty, but it's about two times the size of even Weber's office. She'd said he was a consultant. Those types of guys are treated well, but they aren't treated this well. He looks back up at the number on the door just to make sure. Sure enough, a fancy one and six are mounted on the door. 

He takes a step back, allowing the man behind him to walk into his office before turning to leave, mind already trying to forget this entire section of his afternoon. However, he's stopped before he can scurry down the hall.

"Jacob." 

He lets out a huff, wishing he could just reverse back to earlier Jacob and smack him upside the head for not taking Bella's presence as the omen of bad luck that it was. 

He turns back towards the door to see Edward standing there, holding out a hand for him to shake. He reaches out, despite wanting to do anything but, and shakes his hand. Edward brings his left hand up to grasp the other side like some kind of weird hand sandwich.

No ring.

"Nice to be working with you again."

Jacob feels like a fucking furnace. He's been sitting in this chair, that's probably giving him back problems, for four hours while pretending to care what's been happening on the monitors in front of him. Meanwhile, Mike's been sitting next to him, pestering him about what happened on his little trip as if he couldn't see it in on the security cameras. He's not sure how he's going to make it through this shift without losing his mind. 

"Do you want me to go and get you a soda?" Mike asks, clearly teasing him about the fact that his face is beet red and he's sweating like they're in a fucking sauna. 

He's not flustered because of a Cullen. He's not sure what the fuck is wrong with him, but it's not the first time it's happened. It'd happened the week before as well. He'd started sweating profusely, feeling lightheaded, nauseous, his heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, but he was tired. He'd called in sick that day. One man's attention wasn't turning him into a senseless puddle.

Jacob's about to say something snarky back, when he catches something else on the monitor. A certain man with bad hair and worst taste in men. Jacob stares at him long enough to get Mike's attention, and he can pinpoint the exact moment when Mike realizes he's next up to be mocked.

"He's hot, okay? Like, in his own way," Mike tries to convince him, getting defensive before Jacob can even speak, "plus you can't talk when you're crushing on a guy every girl thought was hot in high school. That's so lame." 

"I don't like him." Jacob tries, knowing it was futile.

"Right, and you just sweat this much normally." Mike huffs, rolling his eyes before turning them to the screen where Eric Yorkie was heading to his office. 

Jacob leans back in his seat, glad that his annoying companion finally has a distraction. He can finally just focus on getting through the day without passing out. 

"So, was he wearing a ring?"