Not having been paying a bit of attention to the door, Chad caught Clint off guard, and he whipped his head around in surprise at the new voice. "Chad...Hi." He toyed with the bandana around his hand, and a faint smile surfaced. "I wondered when you'd show up."
He ambled back to the pickup, lifting an eyebrow at Chad's offer to help. "Well... I shouldn't turn you down since I'm running on a tight schedule and can't seem to..." He picked up a wrench as he left his grouchy sentence unfinished. Complaining about Wes' absence wouldn't do any good. "So you can stick around if you want, but... I know you're not here to work on cars."
His fingers fiddled with the wrench as he studied Chad's face. "Rosalyn's not here. She moved to town a few weeks ago."
Jason chuckled at Katie, appreciating her humor and her attempt to make the best of the situation. He shook his head when she mentioned her plans though. "Go. Take the afternoon off. I won't be anywhere but here anyway." Actually, the truth of the matter was since Misty, he had no real life other than home and work. He hung out at Con and Jamie's a bit, but didn't want to be a nuisance, not to mention Con was busy at the factory six days a week. Jason still had friends, for sure, but with the band slowing down lately too, his social life had taken a nosedive. Most of his lunch breaks were spent here. But he smiled at Katie anyway.
"I'll be here, then I'll just make one of the guys shadow me this evening. No big deal." He really didn't want to put her out, no matter how willing she was. This whole thing was stupid to begin with - he just wished he could quit being a target and that the Agency would stop picking on them.
"I don't know what cases Reese will want to assign us so we're working together anyway, but I doubt he'll have a plan until at least tomorrow." He shrugged and stood up, turning the chair back around. "I, um...thanks." His eyes landed on hers for a moment, and for just a split second, his heart ached. But he forced it to pass quickly. "...For being a good sport, I mean."
Reese wandered in to work, later than normal, with two cups of coffee in hand from the nearby shop. He looked tired this morning, and just a little unkempt, but not disheveled. His button-down shirt was tucked into his jeans, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was a contrast to the dress pants and tie he normally wore, but today...today he'd been to weary to concern himself with being formal.
Stopping at Nate's cubicle, he handed him one of the cups of coffee. "Truce?"
1/20/16
Help
Getting to the ranch Chad drove up the driveway slowly. It liked like a normal day from the other times he'd been there. Though he was slightly feel a bit worried. He didn't know what would happen if he saw Jim. The last time they met it was not so good.
Parking and scanning the ranch Chad didn't even know where to start about Rosalyn. Letting his eyes falling Clint's shop though Chad made his way there. He seemed like one of the best people to talk to and he really had no issue with him. Knocking on the door Chad enters and looks around.
"Clint are you here?"
Walking farther in Chad caches a glimpse of Clint. He looked in rought shape like it had been a long day. Giving a wave he walked a little closer.
"Hey, sorry to bother you...."
Seeing the car that was being worked on and than Clint's hand Chad gave a little nod. He was a little mechanically inclined.
"Looks like you could us an extra set of hands. Want some help?"
That's not why he came but he didn't mind helping at all. He could talk to Clint about Rosalyn while he was working if Clint would let him.
Parking and scanning the ranch Chad didn't even know where to start about Rosalyn. Letting his eyes falling Clint's shop though Chad made his way there. He seemed like one of the best people to talk to and he really had no issue with him. Knocking on the door Chad enters and looks around.
"Clint are you here?"
Walking farther in Chad caches a glimpse of Clint. He looked in rought shape like it had been a long day. Giving a wave he walked a little closer.
"Hey, sorry to bother you...."
Seeing the car that was being worked on and than Clint's hand Chad gave a little nod. He was a little mechanically inclined.
"Looks like you could us an extra set of hands. Want some help?"
That's not why he came but he didn't mind helping at all. He could talk to Clint about Rosalyn while he was working if Clint would let him.
Truce?
Jason chuckled at Katie, appreciating her humor and her attempt to make the best of the situation. He shook his head when she mentioned her plans though. "Go. Take the afternoon off. I won't be anywhere but here anyway." Actually, the truth of the matter was since Misty, he had no real life other than home and work. He hung out at Con and Jamie's a bit, but didn't want to be a nuisance, not to mention Con was busy at the factory six days a week. Jason still had friends, for sure, but with the band slowing down lately too, his social life had taken a nosedive. Most of his lunch breaks were spent here. But he smiled at Katie anyway.
"I'll be here, then I'll just make one of the guys shadow me this evening. No big deal." He really didn't want to put her out, no matter how willing she was. This whole thing was stupid to begin with - he just wished he could quit being a target and that the Agency would stop picking on them.
"I don't know what cases Reese will want to assign us so we're working together anyway, but I doubt he'll have a plan until at least tomorrow." He shrugged and stood up, turning the chair back around. "I, um...thanks." His eyes landed on hers for a moment, and for just a split second, his heart ached. But he forced it to pass quickly. "...For being a good sport, I mean."
Reese wandered in to work, later than normal, with two cups of coffee in hand from the nearby shop. He looked tired this morning, and just a little unkempt, but not disheveled. His button-down shirt was tucked into his jeans, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was a contrast to the dress pants and tie he normally wore, but today...today he'd been to weary to concern himself with being formal.
Stopping at Nate's cubicle, he handed him one of the cups of coffee. "Truce?"
On the outside, the ranch looked so peaceful and happy. And for the most part, it was true. Horses grazed in the west pasture, Mick was exercising horses while giving a riding lesson, several men were working on Eric's bunkhouse, women were busy with housework, and the sun was shining down on it all. Underneath though, there was still a strange tension hanging in the air. Though having a plan in place, Eric's situation was still a stressful one. Happy, but stressful. Along with that, the issue with Jim was not getting better. If anything, it was growing worse. He was becoming more and more withdrawn, sticking to barn tasks, then disappearing home for hours, and sometimes he didn't even join in the evening meal. Becky had vented to Angel multiple times about his moodiness, and his weight loss, but it seemed there was nothing anyone could do but pray it would pass.
Out in the garage, Clint lay under a pickup, half-covered head to toe in grease as he worked. Reaching up with a wrench, he paused once, noticing the grime under his fingernails and on his palms. Most of it would come off, but some of it never did. Not when he worked in here every day. Wendy didn't mind, and she'd told him so...but he minded. Was this all that was left for him in life? Was this his lot? Would he be stuck here forever?
He sighed and focused on the truck again. He'd told the owner he'd have it done by tomorrow and...so far it wasn't looking good. Not that he had any help. And that thought sent a new pang of resentment through his veins.
As he worked, his wrench slipped, sending his hand skidding across a part of the truck, and tearing into his flesh. Growling in pain, he slid out from under the pickup and looked at the top of his hand which was now producing a good flow of blood. Great. Just great. He got up and went to the first aid kit on the wall and grabbed a couple packages of gauze, tearing into them with his teeth before pressing the pads to his wound. It didn't look like it was going to help much though. He didn't have time to go have Angel use stitches though. So instead, he used the pads and tied a bandanna around his hand to hold them in place to at least keep the bleeding to a minimum. As soon as he was finished here, he'd go get cleaned up. But he had to get this done. Work was slow, and they needed all these jobs they could get.
"I'll be here, then I'll just make one of the guys shadow me this evening. No big deal." He really didn't want to put her out, no matter how willing she was. This whole thing was stupid to begin with - he just wished he could quit being a target and that the Agency would stop picking on them.
"I don't know what cases Reese will want to assign us so we're working together anyway, but I doubt he'll have a plan until at least tomorrow." He shrugged and stood up, turning the chair back around. "I, um...thanks." His eyes landed on hers for a moment, and for just a split second, his heart ached. But he forced it to pass quickly. "...For being a good sport, I mean."
Reese wandered in to work, later than normal, with two cups of coffee in hand from the nearby shop. He looked tired this morning, and just a little unkempt, but not disheveled. His button-down shirt was tucked into his jeans, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was a contrast to the dress pants and tie he normally wore, but today...today he'd been to weary to concern himself with being formal.
Stopping at Nate's cubicle, he handed him one of the cups of coffee. "Truce?"
On the outside, the ranch looked so peaceful and happy. And for the most part, it was true. Horses grazed in the west pasture, Mick was exercising horses while giving a riding lesson, several men were working on Eric's bunkhouse, women were busy with housework, and the sun was shining down on it all. Underneath though, there was still a strange tension hanging in the air. Though having a plan in place, Eric's situation was still a stressful one. Happy, but stressful. Along with that, the issue with Jim was not getting better. If anything, it was growing worse. He was becoming more and more withdrawn, sticking to barn tasks, then disappearing home for hours, and sometimes he didn't even join in the evening meal. Becky had vented to Angel multiple times about his moodiness, and his weight loss, but it seemed there was nothing anyone could do but pray it would pass.
Out in the garage, Clint lay under a pickup, half-covered head to toe in grease as he worked. Reaching up with a wrench, he paused once, noticing the grime under his fingernails and on his palms. Most of it would come off, but some of it never did. Not when he worked in here every day. Wendy didn't mind, and she'd told him so...but he minded. Was this all that was left for him in life? Was this his lot? Would he be stuck here forever?
He sighed and focused on the truck again. He'd told the owner he'd have it done by tomorrow and...so far it wasn't looking good. Not that he had any help. And that thought sent a new pang of resentment through his veins.
As he worked, his wrench slipped, sending his hand skidding across a part of the truck, and tearing into his flesh. Growling in pain, he slid out from under the pickup and looked at the top of his hand which was now producing a good flow of blood. Great. Just great. He got up and went to the first aid kit on the wall and grabbed a couple packages of gauze, tearing into them with his teeth before pressing the pads to his wound. It didn't look like it was going to help much though. He didn't have time to go have Angel use stitches though. So instead, he used the pads and tied a bandanna around his hand to hold them in place to at least keep the bleeding to a minimum. As soon as he was finished here, he'd go get cleaned up. But he had to get this done. Work was slow, and they needed all these jobs they could get.
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