Encounter

Who: Brett and Jackson
Where: The park
When: Morning

Brett hadn't slept last night. He hadn't slept that much the night before, but he'd given up on sleep in the early hours of the morning and instead got up, got dressed and gone out. He'd spent the predawn hours sitting in his car, just down the road from Jackson's place. Far enough away that he wasn't 'that O'Malley guy sitting outside the cop's place' but near enough that he'd be able to see when Jackson left - assuming he left by the front door. Course, once the mist came in, he'd had to move closer - but by that time, nobody else could see him either.

He wasn't entirely sure what the plan was. It could be that Jack would get up and go straight to work. And Brett couldn't be seen near the station at the moment, nor could he be seen at Jackson's house. But maybe, just maybe, there would be a place inbetween.

When he finally saw Jackson, the mist was such that he abandoned the car and followed the man on foot, noting that he looked like he was headed into the park as a route to work. Once they were through the gates, Brett sped up his pace to catch the other guy up.

Jackson had been planning on driving to work via Jenny's, but then the mist informed him that would not happen - Jackson hated driving through soup like this. Made him edgy. Lot made him edgy recently. So instead he was trudging down the windy path that lead through Fontaine Park to get himself to work and he figured he could visit Jenny later in the day, maybe at lunch. He was worried he'd been neglecting her of late, and no matter what else was going on in his life, he didn't have an excuse for that.

He heard the footsteps behind him, and gave a quick glance over his shoulder, squinting slightly. Oh fucking fabulous. He recognised the squared shoulders, the walk - the features were blotted by mist but it was clear who it was. He stopped, pulled his hands through his hair and snarled "Mornin' Brett," with a tone that could be marked down as pretty much anything but friendly, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking to talk to you," Brett told him, feeling more secure about doing that since the mist not only obscured them from the view of anyone but the closest of people - of which currently there were none - but also muffled their voices, so they were less likely to be overheard. "Wanted to talk about the other night." As if that wasn't obvious from the get go.

Well, damn thought Jackson, folding his arms. "Anything I gotta say about that whole mess you ain't gonna like. Jesus Brett..." he trailed off, shaking his head. It was all going to go to shit very quickly if their last conversation was anything to go by.

"Yeah - I kinda figured that the other night," Brett agreed, telling himself that, no matter what happened, he needed to keep his cool here. He had to be able to deal with Jackson, or else he would just prove to everyone he was nothing but a hot head would could cope. Once, he hadn't been that guy. He needed to find out whether things had changed that much. "But still - We need to talk. You given it any more thought? What i said about what you think not making any sense? If you really sit down and lay it out?" he asked, keeping his tone fixed and level.

Jackson shook his head, "No. You've been brainwashed by that woman. I can't take a damn thing you say seriously," he said sternly, "Maybe you think that whatever the hell life you have now is fine and dandy, but you're deluded. I been thinking about it plenty. Plenty." He wasn't exactly awesome at the not saying what he thought game, and he had been thinking about Brett and Eris. They kept cropping up in there, how twisted it was, and how much Brett probably needed his help and the poor fucker didn't even realise.

Brett took a moment, biting down heavily on the immediate instinct to lash out. He could keep his cool. He would keep his head. No matter how much he just wanted to punch some sense into the guy. "She's not brainwashed me, Jack," he said, making himself speak slightly more slowly than normal, keeping his tone even and measured, a tight leash on his temper. "Think about it - she's not the reason I'm working for the O'Malleys. That doesn't make any sense. They wanted her killed," he pointed out.

"Maybe that's just what she wants you to think," said Jackson, rolling his eyes. No brainwashed person actually thought they were brainwashed, jeez, how dumb was Brett gonna be? "Ever think maybe she needs some big lunk to keep an eye on those O'Malley boys for her? Even if she ain't the reason you started it out, I don't see any way it ain't beneficial for her that you be her gopher in there. So she knows what they're up to. So she can get me the information to shut down Babylon even though she stood in my way for years because now the cards are in her favour to get her claws back in...Christ." Jackson was ranting now and he kind of knew it, but he wanted Brett to understand his point of view.

"Maybe she does," Brett admitted. "But I would think that you'd be of the opinion that anything that got you the info to shut down Babylon was a good thing. Plus, you've got your ear to the ground, Haas, I know you have." For all that he was being a dumb fuck about this, Brett was sure he heard the word on the street and listened to that a hell of a lot clearer than he heard this. "The O'Malleys are on their way out. They're going down. Plus - that wasn't what you suggested the other night. Before you were talking about her being the reason I got into this in the first place. That's the part that you and I both know is bullshit - that's the part that doesn't make sense when you think about it."

Jackson gave Brett a look of pure disbelief, "You think that's the part that's bullshit? I think it's the part where you hook up with one of the biggest cons this city ever saw. I think it's the part where you don't realise you're getting set up for a huge fall. You're gonna be nothing but her butt monkey and you oughtta be back on the right side, doing decent work, not being some whore's fuck-butler!" when they'd spoken (or uh, yelled at one another) last, Jackson hadn't exactly been in the calmest of places. He didn't believe Eris' innocence in anything. At all. Ever. So yeah, maybe he wasn't willing to drop the idea that she was the reason Brett had gone wrong. You never knew where bad people could be poking at things, somewhere down the line.

Brett physically locked his jaw for a minute to stop himself from replying, balling his fists, but keeping them firmly by his sides. He was not going to lose his temper here. He wasn't. "I know that part's bullshit. Stockard and the O'Malleys had nothing to do with each other. Yeah, they both ran shit that was illegal, but they didn't do it together. They wanted to take over Babylon for years and she wouldn't have none of it. Not from the DG either. She was neutral ground, and people knew that. But the Syndicate didn't like it, and the O'Malleys offered her one last deal. She told then where to stick it, so they sent their guys out to take her out. Thought they'd done it as well - they still think they've done it. Her and them - they're two different matters." He took a breath before continuing. "Aside from that, stop asking me to come back to the force, Jack - it's not gonna happen. Too many bridges burned and, honestly, I've seen too much shit to trust all of you guys anymore. I'm going my own way, but it's not because I'm being led round by my cock, whatever you've decided to think."

He'd heard this sob-story from Eris herself, and perhaps at the time he'd been in a better place to fall for it - he'd let her slip, hadn't he? Brett was saying nothing that was convincing Jackson of his standpoint. He could be as falsely calm as he wanted. "I don't care. You can harp on as much as you want, man, I'm going to prove it to you that she's no good. Soon as that happens? You're gonna see straight."

Brett's eyes narrowed at that and his tone became very cautious. "What are you going to do?" he asked. Jackson could single handedly ruin their plans, and Brett couldn't just stand by and let that happen.

"I don't know yet. I don't know. But I've gotta do something, don't I?" said Jackson, his jaw quite firmly set on the word. Something. He didn't know what. But this was his calling now. One damn thing after another, but Brett? Brett had been his best friend. He needed someone to believe in him, to try for him, and Jackson could be that person.

"Yeah - you gotta do something," Brett agreed, seriously. "You gotta trust me to know what I'm doing. This isn't a play, Jackson. And I'm not under some kind of thrall. You know me, you've known me for years. When the hell did I ever lose my head over a piece of ass?" he asked the other man, hating that he had to put it like that, but if it helped, then he would. Sure, as far as Jackson was concerned, Brett had had girlfriends, but they'd never been long term, and Brett had always been the one to end it. It had been well over ten years since Brett had ever had anything that could even approach being called a 'deep and meaningful relationship'. "I haven't, that's when. And I haven't now. I'm aware of her past, but I can deal with her. Just - trust me, please."

Jackson threw his hands up and shook his head in obvious frustration, "I have to go to work. Just try not to do anything even more stupid until this mess gets fixed," said Jackson, quite obviously ignoring everything Brett was saying as straight up rambling. He would get him back to the force soon enough. He just needed the right evidence.

"That's not an answer," Brett pointed out, not willing to let this one go. "Tell me you're not going to do anything, Jack," he said, bluntly, needing to hear that, but with a feeling he wouldn't get to.

"I can't tell you lies or make you false promises. I ain't that guy," he said with a shrug, "I dunno what I'm gonna do yet. But it ain't gonna hurt you any." He was trying to sound reassuring, his tone quieter, and almost as if he was talking to himself. He gave Brett a look that was sort of sympathetic and spread his hands in a 'nothing I can do about it now' fashion, taking steps backwards. The conversation was over. There was no point talking to a guy who had his shit so clearly mixed up.

You screw with her, you'll hurt me, Brett thought to himself. "Haas - I have plans," he said, after a moment or two. "And they require her. It'll get me out of where I am right now. Out of the shit. But I'm gonna need her for it. Just... Back off. Okay? You say you're not gonna hurt me? This is how you don't hurt me. You leave her the fuck alone," he said, seriously.

Jackson almost laughed. "I'm not gonna hurt her, Christ! Just need to find out what she's up to. That's all. And if you're so sure she's a fucking saint you ain't got nothing to worry over. Man, I'm trying to help you." He didn't mention that Jakob Hollis was already on a line to help Brett out, and that Jackson figured even if he was slimy and a glory-hunter it'd be better than some dumb scheme that featured messing around with some skeezy Madame.

"No you're not," Brett said, bullishly, still trying to keep a rein on his temper. "You're trying to prove something to yourself. You're that sure she's up to no good that you're not gonna stop until you find something. Which means you're not gonna stop, because there's nothing to find. But what you are gonna do is bring attention. People talk when the cops start sniffing around, and she's gonna wind up dead for real this time and I. Look, Jack - people find out she's alive right now and I am gonna be in the middle of a shit storm," he told the other guy, trying to couch it in terms that he might be able to latch onto, since Jackson was so concerned about doing him good.

"No-one's gonna find out she's alive. Or that you're with her, or any of that shit. I'm good at my job, most of the damn time, and I can cover tracks just as good as any crook when I need to. I just need to dig. Need to watch out for you. You clearly ain't done such a good job of doing that for yourself, you know?" Jackson spoke with integrity. This was his thing. If people found out Stockard was around and he'd known and not brought her in... well that'd be fucking shameful. Among other things.

Brett wanted to believe the guy when he spoke like that. He really did. But he couldn't - because that would mean trusting him and Brett had severe trust issues these days. But Jackson wasn't going to listen to him anyway. That much was clear. This was probably as good as it was gonna get. "They better not," he said, eventually, toning it as a threat, which was, unbelievably, a step down by the guy right now.

Jackson gave a crooked smile at Brett's tone. "Cool it, groucho. I'll see you around." He gave a mock salute, and wondered how the hell any of them had managed to get into this bizarre situation. If you'd asked him back in the academy days if he thought he'd be trying to get his disgraced friend back into the force after the city's most infamous brothel-keeper got her claws into him... well Jesus.

Brett took a breath, and then turned round and headed off into the mist. It was better than anything else he wanted to do right now, that was for sure. Fuck - he just had to tell himself that it could have gone a lot worse. But it still felt like he'd failed.