Love Overcast // (ManxMan)

=Chapter 8=

A/N: Again, that's Jameson and probably 0 out of the *insert number here* of you would actually think he's attractive. But hey, I have a thing for men with abs that can wash clothes better than my washing machine and biceps that can probably break my femur in clean thirds.

[Jameson]

*~*~*

To fair against justice,

Is to battle the fear of unreasonable pain.

Unjustified cruelty lingers even when you are an angel.

It spares no one.

And so,

Pain may rid someone's guilty treasons;

Or pollute a perfectly pure white feathered pair of wings.

*~*~*

Alright, game plan. What's the game plan? Not to make conversation in my own head about an impending crisis that is currently right inside the room that you are leaning against. I mentally smack myself for being a bigot, there is absolutely no reason for me to be nervous. Owen is scared of me, rightfully so, and I am here to mend mistakes that I've made and hopefully place a good image in his head of who I truly am.

Not that I have a lot of substance to begin with anyway. I'm just a sergeant with little to no personality and a negative amount of interests. Am I doing this to make a good impression or am I doing this to exceed that good impression and hopefully establish a friendship. Or something more than a friendship?

I don't even know if I am gay or not, this is confusing and I hate it.

That thought flees my brain the moment I see my boss walking towards me with an angered expression. I know she hates my guts for making a scene the other day, she is supposedly a nice person to everyone but I've never seen her so much as smile to anyone beside a patient. And believe me, I don't carry my stalker status for nothing.

That came out wrong, I didn't stalk people per se... I just happen to bump into Owen almost every morning whilst he is walking his dog and I am doing my morning jog. I would be lying if I didn't take my shirt off for the simple reason of hoping he gawks at me just for a moment. I don't fucking know what I'm doing, I'm trying my best here, alright?

"Jameson." She comes right up to me, his face to my clavicle, looking right up into my eyes. "You should seriously reconsider your occupation if you are going to kick up a storm every time you cross roads with Owen." Again, there is that feeling of control that I want but don't have. I can't order her around like my subordinate, in fact, I am her damn subordinate.

"I won't cause any further trouble." I shut my eyes and roll them, breathing out a sigh of relief when she takes a step back. Should I fucking kneel and bow so she can kick me in the balls and fire me right here right now? "We are just friends." That thought doesn't sting as badly as it should if I were interested in Owen. But then again, we are barely friends right now. Cue the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack, because someone is going to bend if I don't get out of this kid's face immediately.

"Far from friends from what I can tell." She scoffs, looking past me then frowning. "I've heard things that he has a history with social degenerates like you, don't get cocky or you're going to cost me one of my better vets. He doesn't need distractions, he works alone and that's the way he has functioned since he was interning." She seems very into her unspoken idea of firing me, I, on the other hand am not. Because then, I wouldn't have a reason to stalk that angelic looking coffee bean and figure out what the hell my head wants.

But at least now I know he has a thing for 'social degenerates like me'. Does that imply he has dated a tall and freakishly muscular man with very little substance and a very confused pea sized brain for a conscience?