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The Deputy walks ahead of them, silent as always. Grace has been hanging around her long enough to be able to differentiate between her silences, though, and she’s relieved that this is more of a “Let’s listen to the beautiful sounds of Hope County, Montana,” and not “I’m ready to fuck some Peggie shit up,” where she throws herself (and by proxy, Grace) into the closest dangerous situation.
To her left, Jess pads along, hood thrown over her head and eyes darting left-right-and-left-again, always on guard. She, too, is content in silence- at least until the killing begins. Then it’s all crass insults and whoops, that blow their cover and leave the Deputy fuming. Grace tries to play along, but she finds it harder than she should to stay mad at this feral woman who has survived so much. Because, with all of her sarcastic quips and death stares, underneath her hardened exterior borne of trauma and loss, Jess is still a girl who has her back in a fight, saves her the last of a bag of chips, is available to get drunk on the rare nights when the Deputy doesn’t need their help.
“What?” Jess asks, nose wrinkling (adorably, Grace thinks, but she wouldn’t admit this to anyone), and Grace realizes she’s been staring throughout the length of her introspection.
“Nothing,” Grace says hastily. Jess still looks suspicious.
Grace searches for something to say to smooth over her own awkwardness.
“So, Jess- you got family?”
Jess’ shoulders tighten as, ahead of them, the Deputy’s head swivels slightly in their direction. The archer’s next words are tossed out in her normal casual manner, but Grace can tell that they’re selected carefully to be relaxed, nonsuspicious.
“Nope. Just me, myself, and I.”
Grace isn’t surprised, but she is saddened. “That’s all good. But after this all blows over, my door’s always open.”
At this, Jess’ demeanor softens ever so slightly, and a small, rare smile graces her face. Beautiful, Grace thinks, and makes a promise to herself in that moment to give her best to see that smile again.
“Thanks, Grace. I’ll keep that in mind,” Jess says, catching Grace’s eyes for a too short, too long moment.
Grace can feel a blush burning across her face and glances away quickly, throwing out a “No problem,” before lengthening her strides to catch up with the Deputy.
She’s forced to stop as the Deputy stops suddenly at the crest of a hill, gazing down at the open field that has spread out beneath them. Grace watches expectantly as the Deputy turns to face them. The Deputy likes her silence, and she only gives instructions once.
“Grace, approach from the North, pick off the snipers. Jess, stick with me. We’ll take care of ground forces. I’ll take care of the alarms.”
Grace nods, hefts the familiar weight of her rifle in her hands. The job is done quickly- bonds formed by disaster are unbreakable, and the three of them make an excellent team. Afterwards, the Deputy makes a rare concession and allows them to head back to Fall’s End, for a night of drinking and revelry at Spread Eagle.
Grace finds out that the Deputy can hold her liquor, and Jess cannot. By the time the town has settled down to sleep and the stars are twinkling above, Grace is practically carrying Jess down the streets of Fall’s End.
“Jess! Where the hell are you staying?” Grace pleads, drunk enough that laugher colors her query. Jess just giggles explosively and it makes something in Grace’s heart twinge, worsened by the fact that Jess proceeds to tighten her grip around Grace’s neck and lean into her. Jess smells like- well, mostly like alcohol, but the smaller part of Grace that is prone to romanticism imagines the woodsy smell of leaves and campfires, popping in the cool Montana night. Regardless, she’s soft, and smells good, and Grace doesn’t really know how to name the feeling inside of her right now.
“Jess, where should I take you?” Grace asks again, stopping her march to nowhere to get a better grip on the prone girl by her side.
“Mmm…mm’not stayin’ anywhere!” Jess giggles, and Grace sighs. This is a bad idea, for her sake. And Jess’s.
“Do you want to stay with me? I have a double bed at the Hope Inn.”
Jess gasps. “Like a sleepover?”
“Sure,” Grace replies. Yep, bad idea.
Giggling again, Jess nods her head into Grace’s shoulder. “Mmm. Okay!”
Cursing and blessing herself in turns, Grace slowly leads Jess down the road towards the small, rundown motel she stays in while in town. The owner, a kind old man who’d served with her dad, has opened his business to those fighting Eden’s Gate- a sort of home base in their home base.
It’s a struggle for Grace to reach her key with Jess hanging off of her, but she manages, and the two stumble inside together. She lays Jess down carefully on the bed, and carefully does not have a freak out about how small the bed really looks with someone else in it. Maybe she’ll sleep on the floor, she thinks as she unlaces Jess’s boots and places them on the floor.
Her decision is squashed when Jess sighs, reaches out a hand, and mutters a “C’mere, Grace,” into her pillow. There’s a swooping in Graces stomach as she unlaces her own shoes and climbs into bed next to her. Though Grace does her best to remain stiff beneath the covers, giving Jess some modicum of privacy, Jess doesn’t seem to like this and immediately swings her body over, placing her head on Grace’s chest and throwing a leg atop her. Grace melts in increments as Jess curls into her, and before she drifts off into sleep, she wraps her arm around her archer and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Maybe Grace can make this work after all.