March 11th, 1891 — Bartonburg

The better part of her week had been spent in the training rooms at the ministry, casting all manners of charms and curses at the undeserving mannequins. Her duel was humiliating, infuriating even, and to fail so blatantly in front of her boss was even more frustrating. Fallon had no excuse to chalk it up to, either. It'd been months since she returned from being undercover, longer still since her misadventure with Lachlan. There was no reason her spells ought to have failed as spectacularly as they had.

No reason except for her exciting personal matters.

Fallon was drenched in sweat by the time she had finished training for the evening. It was well after supper, possibly even beyond what was deemed evening, but both Jesse and Malou knew to expect this behavior of her. Not that their opinions would've made a difference anyway, nothing short of a smack in the face from Kieran would get through to her right now.

As was her usual routine, Fallon stopped home for her change of clothes and to quickly rinse the sweat from her skin. Dressing quickly (and forgetting her ring as she was like to do since she never wore it at work) Fallon grabbed her overnight bag and floo'd to Jesse's. It was perhaps wrong of her to seek him out when it was so late and she was already keyed up, but they'd be married soon. For better or worst. He'd have to deal with this at some point.

"Hey. Sorry I'm late." She greeted upon spotting him in the parlor. Kirke wasn't present as far as she could see, but that wouldn't have deterred her either. "Long day?"

  

Fallon had been late at work most nights lately. Jess highly suspected her loss in the dueling tournament hit her hard. He threw himself into work when something didn't go his way either, but he couldn't quite understand her feelings over this one. So he'd just let her be, get it out of her system however she needed to. He'd suffered a far more embarrassing defeat in his foray into dueling after all.

He didn't know whether or not to expect her, but he as a bit of a night owl by habit anyway, and so was in the little parlor of his flat reading a book when she came in through the floo. It had become their routine, but as they weren't married yet, he kept his expectations low. "Hi," He greeted softly with a smile. "Not a problem," He should probably get used to it anyway. Just because he tried to skip out as early as possible these days, not that he always could, after his promotion, but that didn't mean she had to as well.

"I could ask you the same thing." He quirked an eyebrow at her as he put a bookmark in his book and closed it.

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Fallon hummed in agreement. The day hadn't been long because of her job, but the hours long training she subjected herself to. Dropping her bag over the edge of the sofa, she moved to pour herself a healthy glass of whiskey and held it in her left hand. "I'll likely not be home early for the next few weeks. Going over my training again." She offered as a weak explanation.

Tomorrow, she would challenge the recruits in hand to hand combat (her favorite) and would likely return home with more bruises than she could count. Though Malou would be able to heal those without an issue.

  

Jess watched her carefully as she poured herself a healthy measure of whiskey from his stock. Two unhealthy coping mechanisms to be on the lookout for, great. He noted her ring was missing and that him furrowing his brows a little. Logic told him she didn't wear it to work for practical reasons, which he supposed he could understand, though Gabe wore his wedding band all of the time without a problem. On the more personal side of the matter, he had to wonder if it was because she didn't want her coworkers to see it.

"Right," He said, glancing at her hand again, distracted now by his thoughts. Was it worth bringing up? Did he really want to know? Did he want to give her the benefit of the doubt here? What would happen when they were married though, would she wear it ever? Questions flooded his brain as he sat there. Jess was not an insecure person by nature, but when he was serious about something, about someone, he wanted the effort reciprocated.

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She leant against the wall, too pent up still to comfortably sit yet. Which, judging by the look on his face was the wrong decision. Fuck. Perhaps she shouldn't have come over tonight, but really she was hoping to work out more frustration with him. (Also a likely no if the furrowed brows were anything to judge by.)

"You okay?" She asked and took a sip of her whiskey.

  

Fuck. He really didn't want to get into it tonight. She was already keyed up and he wasn't sure he had the stamina to fight with her. Maybe she had a perfectly reasonable answer to his musings, but if she didn't it would certainly turn into an issue.

"Fine, just tired." He lied slowly, but his gaze once again wandered to her hand and he felt the urge to say something rise again. Instead, he moved to pour himself a measure of whiskey into the other glass kept with the booze. He threw it back, a little too quickly, but it had the steadying effect he wanted. Maybe he could ask without stirring the pot.

"Where's your ring?" He tried to keep his tone neutral as he looked at her and hoped it wouldn't instantly spark an argument.

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It took longer than she would ever admit to for Fallon to realize what ring he was talking about. She loved the daisy ring he'd proposed with, loved the idea of marrying him, but nothing was official at work yet. (Although why they weren't wasn't a very clear reason to her.) And, more than that, Fallon worked in a very hands on profession. The likelihood of something happening to her hands was high, and she was terrified of losing it.

"It's in my bag." She answered. "I don't wear it at work, it's too risky." Fallon crossed back to where her bag was and dug for the small ring box, taking a half second longer than she ought to have to locate it. "I've been meaning to get a chain for it."

  

A reasonable answer he supposed. He had come up with that himself a moment ago, well minus one thing. "Risky?" Jess supposed he could get her a chain, but he really couldn't fathom why she wouldn't just wear it. So, there was that. For a moment he thought she wasn't going to come up with it from her bag, then he might have been actually angry, instead of just mildly annoyed.

"Right, fine." He changed his mind as soon as the first question left his lips, regretting asking it. He didn't want to start anything tonight, he really didn't. He poured himself another shot, downed it and took the glass to the kitchen to rinse out. "I'm going to head to bed." He announced as soon as he reached the entry to the parlor again.

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"Yes, risky." She pushed, irritated that he didn't understand. "Unless you'd rather I risk losing it while in the field or training? Or somehow damaging it?" She could already see it happening, a curse hitting her hand and blasting it straight off into the abyss. "It's a beautiful ring, Jess. I don't want to chance it." At least with her pendant she could tuck it into her robes and reliably believe it wouldn't be lost. Or, if it was, she would have far worse problems than a missing pendant.

He was leaving the room, just walking out mid conversation to go to bed. As if he'd get any sleep at all now. "Are you serious?" She asked incredulously. "You're walking away because I won't wear a ring every day at work?"

  

"I walked away to clean up my glass and now I am going to bed. I don't want to fight with you tonight Fallon. I shouldn't have said anything. You do what you think is best." He really was in no mood to have this discussion right now. "Come or don't, that is also up to you." He had the sneaking suspicion she wasn't going to drop it now. Her job was a sensitive subject between them, mostly because she was so fucking protective of it and its place in her life that if he were being petty for a moment, he would say she would be married to her job before him on any given day, but he hadn't quite reached that level of bitter just yet.

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Fallon scoffed. "It shouldn't even be a fight at all." She muttered bitterly, rubbing a tired hand over her temples. Draining her glass, she dropped it to the nearest table, not caring in the least to go and wash it as he had just done at present.

Then, with a frustrated huff, she slid the ring on her finger and glared at him as if to say happy? "You're being a jackass right now." She then added point blank.

  

Jesse just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatics. "Thrilled." He answered before he moved down the hall toward his room. He couldn't remember seeing Kirke in a while, but if she was going to have a go at him, they may as well do it in his room, where the sound could be far more easily muffled. She was already hurling insults at him.

He was exhausted though, and on the unlikely chance she just let him be, he was going to get ready for bed. Tugging his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, he pulled it over his head and tossed it on the chair in the corner.

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Groaning to herself, Fallon poured herself another shot and drained it before following him down the hall. She wouldn't stay tonight, but she refused to leave without at least talking to him about what he meant. Not even his nakedness deterred her as it usually did. "It bothers you enough to comment on it and pull this fucking pettiness, but not enough to tell me what the issue is?" She pushed as soon as the door clicked shut behind her.

  

Jess knew it, she always had to have the last word. He'd been like that once upon a time and he'd grown out of it. He was a reformed hothead involved with a well, another hothead. "Like I said, I shouldn't have mentioned it. I'm not being petty. You're making a mountain out of a mole hill at the moment." This was the last thing he wanted to do tonight. "I don't know what else you want me to say about it." He raised his hands in surrender as he turned to look at her.

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"Fine." Fallon huffed and rolled her eyes. Molehills could easily become mountains, and from there they'd be lost. Though, if she were being honest with herself, it already felt as if he was slipping from her. Like the happy night they'd shared when he proposed was one of a numbered few, rather than a collection of many.

She sighed. "I'm going home. Unless you have something to say about that, too." Lost or not, she wouldn't lay besides someone who refused to speak to her.

  

"Stop putting words in my mouth, is what I have to say about it." He sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he looked toward the ceiling in an attempt to gather his patience. He had a tendency to say things he didn't mean when he was pissed off and though he wasn't there yet, he could feel himself rising to the occasion and that would likely end in disaster.

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