Dont Be a Hero

Aftermath

   Jackson sat at Macy's small dining room table as she bustled around her kitchen making them both coffee and some breakfast. There was no point in going to sleep. It was already nearing 5AM. He was thinking about the steps necessary to make her condo more secure. She needed an alarm system. Maybe a dog. What the hell good does that cat do her? He thought to himself. At that moment, Max was lazily licking his paw on the arm of her sofa.

As if on cue, he stopped his bathing and stared at Jackson. Jackson stared back, eyes hooded. Suddenly Max jumped down from the arm of the sofa, trotted over to Jackson, and leaped up onto his lap.

"What the...?" Jackson started, sitting back and throwing his arms out. "Get your ass off me, cat! You almost made me spill my coffee!"

Max looked up at him steadily. Slowly he placed one paw on Jackson's stomach, the other on his chest, and standing on his hind legs he put his face right up into Jackson's face. He began sniffing his chin, mouth, and nose.

"Come on!" Jackson complained, scrunching up his face.

The cat then began licking his nose as though to clean it, purring the whole time. At this point, Macy stood, spatula in one hand, coffee in the other, watching the whole thing with a grin on her face.

"That's new!" she said, sounding amazed. "Max doesn't usually like anyone. Last time you were over here he hid up in my room the entire time, Jackson. What did you do, feed him tuna while I was gone?"

Jackson opened one eye carefully as Max moved up from his nose to his forehead and continued licking. "I didn't feed him anything. He nearly gave me a stroke when he came shooting out of your bedroom like a bat-outta-hell, but that's the only time I saw him. When I first came looking for you."

She turned back toward the stove, her brows furrowed in thought.

Jackson gently pushed the cat down on his lap and stroked his soft fur as he studied Macy. She had been much quieter than normal since she'd arrived home. There was something on her mind. He could tell. It was more than just the stress of what she'd gone through. She seemed worried about something else.

"What is it, Macy?" he asked her, quietly. Was she freaking out because he'd kissed her? Did she regret it? His heart skipped a beat. What if she hadn't wanted anything like that from him?

Macy looked back up at him. He saw the worried look cross her face for a split second before she smiled and shook her head. "Oh, nothing sweetie. I'm fine. Everything's..."

"There's something you aren't telling me, Macy. What is it?"

She stirred the eggs quietly and then turned to butter some toast. She took a couple of plates out of the cupboard and dished out sausage, eggs, and buttered toast and placed a plate in front of Jackson and a plate in front of her own seat. She went back for orange juice and poured them both a glass. Then she refilled their coffee.

Jackson sighed. She was stalling. He was getting frustrated. Worried. He needed to know what was wrong. She started to turn back toward the kitchen again and he caught her arm, making her let out a startled squeak. She stared down at him, eyes wide and blue. There was no smile. Her usual bubbly nature was non-existent. His heart did a small flip-flop and he let go of her arm.

She sat down in her own seat and picked up her fork, but didn't really eat. She just pushed the food around on her plate. They both started to speak at the same time.

"Jackson, I found something out...."

"Macy, you don't regret kissing..."

"Wait... what?"