Vera eagerly offered to check on the ETA for Doreen's ambulance. She did not like the way she felt witnessing the governor hold the shrieking ladies hand. She allotted herself a quick glance over her shoulder and saw Joan softly stroking Doreen's hair. It was more than the poor dear could take. Decidable worse than than the chocolate chip ice cream incident. Vera was suppose to walk away after she delivered the prisoner. Jealously did not allow her to. She watched the interaction and wept silently.
"What the hell," Vera whispered aloud to herself as she walked down the corridor to the front entrance of the prison.
"Mr. Fletcher, is the ambulance here yet?" Vera hurriedly asked. No answer. Most likely because he was copying some type of drawing. It was an unknown common looking man. Vera thought it to be stupid but was not sure of his therapy program. There was a name at the bottom, underlined and circled. Jianna. Maybe that's who drew it. Just as she was about to call Fletch again, the governor stormed by them. Her hands were slightly trembling and she was moving very quickly. Quickly even for the governor.
Should I be following her home, thought Vera. Obviously, the governor needs me only to secretly escort her favorite prisoner for a late night chat and ice cream party. That is unless I am ordering new furniture for the privileged inmate at her instruction. Vera concludes she should go regardless of the strain in her and the governors working relationship and what she believed to be a budding friendship. It’s the right thing to do. Deep down it's her curiosity of what caused the governor to appear distraught. Yet again and always she was with Doreen after all. Vera noted that's when she smiled the most. Albeit hesitantly, but still a glimmer was there. Vera tells herself that just because Governor Ferguson is ignorant of her devotion does not mean she shouldn’t help. Besides the governor did invite her over later on tonight. Just maybe she would explain the riot. The whole debacle keeps her up at night. Vera lied to herself. She wanted this woman with a fury she never knew she had.
Vera knocked on the red door and it gently opened. She thought it best to wait for approval even if the door was slightly ajar. No sounds indicating her Governor was coming, she walked on through. After closing the door she heard a weak cry chanting over and over.
"I'm a freak I'm a freak I'm a freak"
The sight before her nearly made her keel over. Operating on autopilot, Vera knelt before her governor and inserted a hand between the kitchen chair and the governors banging head. She needed to stop further injury at this point. At least that's what she told herself. Vera was not sure when she became enamored with her governor, but she was certain she was. When the thrashing subsided, Vera instinctually and gently caressed Joan's face with her right hand. Hearing Joan hum led her to believe she acted appropriately. Joan ever so gently leaned in to the comforting hand. Vera could not believe this foreboding woman was leaning in to her contact. Lost in the moment with her governor, she ran her left hand slowly up and down Joan's arm over and over.
"You're not a freak," Vera whispered against her forehead.
"She called me a weirdo!" It was then Vera surmised the she Joan was referring to was Doreen. Vera sat aside her own jealous to comfort this damaged soul.
Joan never one to have many outburst always required her father to jolt her back to reality. Even though he was a cruel son of bitch, he is the only person she ever truly let in to her fortress. The menacing man made sure she had little to no contact with others. She came close once but life and circumstances prevented that from blossoming. Her father had calmed her down at an extremely fast paced this time. It took weeks for him to console her after
Jianna's untimely death. She sat up slowly, seemingly not noticing the small arms she was recently in. That is until a soft voice beckoned her to turn.
“Joan, is everything okay?”
“Yes, yes of course,” she lies ineffectually," while wiping her eyes. I was just going to straighten up a little in here. You are well aware of my discomfort regarding clutter and... she stammers well this place is in a state of disarray." Joan smiles shyly while staring down at the floor in hopes of shutting this down.
Joan trying to make sense of it all, wonders when Vera got here in the first place. Why was she in her home? Rejoining the land of the living (somewhat) she remembered they were to discuss the growing tension which was hindering their effective working relationship. This hardly seemed like the time to discuss it now. Recent events rendered that conversation virtually an impossibility. How could she logically explain to her deputy that this need to help Mr. Fletcher is not subservient to their greater good. Even though she can't have Vera, Matthew Fletcher definitely should not. He is the cause of their tension. Joan would never admit jealousy or defeat but in a sense he had her. She desperately needed a moment to herself.
"would you please excuse me for a moment." Not waiting for a reply she walked towards the safe haven of her bedroom. She could not discuss topics of this matter in her current company.
Vera took the initiative to clean up the kitchen for her.
Joan dazedly sat on the edge of her bed and recalled the the events that led her to be in this situation. Joan thought to herself emotions can harm you far more than a missile apparently. How could Doreen be so ignorant as to think she was being anything other than genuine in her obvious times of need. She wanted nothing more than to protect the young mother. Something she believed herself to of failed many moons ago. A single silent tear fell down her cheek. Joan brushed the tear away with her sleeve and detected an unusual scent. Well, unusual for her surgically cleaned home environment. She took the jacket off and dove in face first. Her olfactory senses were overloaded with pomegranate. Why the fuck do I detect Vera on my clothing? She clung to the garment as if it were a life line. It renewed a sense of calmness she hopelessly needed. Her deputy, although unaware always provided a sense of tranquility in her dark perception of reality. In actuality she provided so much more. Since meeting her deputy she didn't feel the need to seek out woman for a release. Granted her release was provided at her own hand, she can't deny the intense arousal she provided for a modicum of women.
She took a few more calculated breaths and looked towards the clock. Joan was going to make Mrs. Bennett one hell of a dinner. She certainly did deserve it for all the times she had helped her even without her knowledge.
Joan walked downstairs focusing on the task at hand, until she saw Vera with garbage bags in her hand. She also detected a hint of fresh herbs.
"Vera what are you doing here, in my home unannounced?"
"Governor, I realized I am early but I felt the need to check in on you. You seemed well unlike yourself when you left today. I realize you wanted to prepare dinner but I wanted to do something nice for you. You were upstairs a while. So, I cleaned a little and began preparing for our dinner."
Hearing no response other than a blazing stare which Vera couldn't detect as anger or appreciation she continued on.
"Your kitchen is no longer in disarray and I started preparing our meal. I do hate disappointing you yet again but I did not procure a bottle of wine. I rushed right over after work. I can leave and get something if you like."
It was at that moment she realized it was never her father consoling her. It was Vera all along. Vera Bennett was the one to hold and console her.
Joan Ferguson was on the verge of losing all capacities. She retreated to her beautiful mind asking what to do what to do at this realization.