It should have been raining.

It was that kind of scene, Jaime standing a few feet away from me with this agony all over her face, the kind of agony that caused my stomach to drop in response. Even though things had gone so bad between us, there was still that kind of connection where I still responded to her pain on a deep level. Her eyes were red and puffy. Apparently, there had been a lot of crying going on and she was not in a good state.

She didn't even have the energy to yell at me.

"My dad died yesterday," she said, and her face screwed up as the tears came again. I hardly noticed, the news coming like such a punch in the gut that took all of the breath out of me.

There was the guilt, of course, the kind of guilt that is born out of building a relationship with someone and then disappointing them in a huge way. Jaime's dad and I had connected in a good way and he had actually liked me despite himself. He once said that he saw such potential for me but that I needed a little bit of help to achieve it, and I had respected that. I had even wanted to live up to it, even if it was just to prove him right. Maybe even impress him a little. But the drugs had been too much of a trap for me, and that had been the beginning of the end. After the breakup, he had reached out to me, but I had never responded, mainly out of shame.

And now he was dead.

Fuck.

"Were you coming to see me?" I asked, fighting that hollowness, that loss that I couldn't quite name. Jaime nodded, a sob breaking out from her and she wrapped her arms around herself, looking so lost and alone. I wanted to hug her, but I held back, not wanting to be punched.

Jaime somehow managed to calm herself.

"Can we go somewhere?"

"You want to go grab a coffee? There's a Starbucks around the corner."

Jaime broke down again, her ugly crying definitely not done with. It probably wouldn't be done for a very long time. I reached out to her this time and she didn't resist, allowing herself to be folded into my arms.

"Okay, maybe some rum would be better," I said, not wanting to admit how damn good it felt to hold her again. "For both of us."

Down the block, two men staggered onto the sidewalk, trading blows. One of the men seemed to be limping as if he had been punched in the balls.

***

We went to the pub across the street from the Tim Hortons instead. It was all dark wood and crisp white aprons, an oddity in this neighbourhood of dive bars and questionable, but good Shawarma restaurants. Another sign of the gentrification that was "reclaiming' parts of the city, another word for "kicking the previous tenants out and renting higher to some trendy moron with too much money to burn." It was dimly lit, perfect for hiding tears. Strings of yellowish Christmas lights had been strung up on the walls above all of the booths, but they looked more at home than being festive. It was that kind of place.

"Dad liked you, you know that, right?" Jaime said as she downed her third shot and grimaced at the taste of the tequila. "Ack, how do you even drink this stuff?"

"I guess you never told him about..." I let the question dangle in the air, that great pain between us of a child that never was. "You know," I finished lamely."

"No," Jaime shook her head motioned for the bartender to pour her some scotch instead. "That would have been too much for him. He'd just gotten the diagnosis so it... it was just was bad timing all around."

"I liked your dad too," I admitted. "I would have liked to have seen him before he died."

There was a distant look on Jaime's face, a battle of emotions and pain that she tried to shut out and failed.

"No, you wouldn't," she said. "You might think that you wanted to, but you didn't want to see him like that. He didn't even look like himself anymore at the end. That's how much weight he had lost. And his skin was like paper that you swore was just going to rip at any moment--" Jaime stared off into the distance.

I couldn't say anything. I just reached out and took her hand. She squeezed my hand gratefully.

We stayed like that for a while, her talking and me soaking up her pain. The more I listened, the more she talked, mainly about her father and the good memories she still had of him. All of the recent ones were of him dying and she was afraid that would be all she could think of when she thought of him later.

I know it's a little selfish, but while a part of me grieved, another part of me was relieved that it hadn't been my mom who had won the cancer lottery, and yet another part of me was suddenly terrified that something could happen to her.

And yet another part whispered in my ear that she was going to die sometime, they all were and I was still going to be young and very much not dead and how that fuck was that even fair?

Jaime had gone quiet, and she smiled gratefully at me.

"I came looking for a fight you know," she admitted.

I carefully gulped down what was left in my glass and eyed the distance to the door. I raised a curious eye to Jaime, wondering if I could glammer her and then make a break for it.

"Really?" I asked, marvelling at how well I was mastering my emotions.

"I was just so angry and wanted to punch right in the teeth. Do you know I left the hospital and went home to Federal Agents all over my apartment? They had a search warrant and a lot of stupid questions about you." Jaime turned to me and it was clear that she was drunk. "So I ask you this in all sincerity Bobby. I mean thanks for listening to me and all of this, but man, answer me this: What the fuck?"

"Would it help if I said I was innocent?"

Jaime snorted and rolled her eyes. "You're always innocent Bobby, especially when you're guilty." She got to her very unsteady feet and looked around the bar. "Hold that thought. I gotta go pee."

"Okay Jaime," I said.

Jaime paused and reached out with her hand to squeeze my face.

"You know I'm not going to fuck you, right? I'm too pissed off at you for any kind of commiseration sex. Just so we're clear."

I nodded and watched her totter away, trying to ignore the twitching in my pants that had started up at the mention of the possibility of sex with Jaime.

Someone slid into the seat next to me.

"Good work with the agent back there," he said. I turned startled, but then stopped in surprise. The man was a complete stranger, just regular normal looking white guy with nice hair. He wore a leather jacket that looked a little too light for the weather, but whatever. Dude talked as if we were old friends.

"Getting them to fight each other was inspired, but they're back on the job, so you need to watch your ass and don't do anything stupid."

"Do I know you?" I asked.

"It's me, Louise."

I did an actual spit-take, spraying out the scotch I had just taken a mouthful of. That earned me a pissed off look from the bartender, but I was too busy coughing to care.

"Come again?" I managed to say, but an idea was beginning to form in my head about what was going on.

Not-Louise looked at his hands and shrugged. "Well not me, of course. Everybody's looking for me so I have to resort to different methods. Like this one." He seemed to be pretty smug about something. "I call it 'Distance Glammering' since we don't actually have a name for it. I'm in the back of a van down the block, but I get to use this guy's body as long as he lets me."

"This is really fucking weird."

"Take some getting used to, but it's useful. We need to talk."

"Nope, nope and more nope. I have nothing to say to you."

"Well, you can do the listening. We need to meet tonight, so I need you to take Jaime home and then come meet me down at Cecil's."

"Is this going to be actual you or this guy?"

"Definitely me. Short shelf-life with Distance Glammering. In about three minutes this guy will be on his way, no idea how he lost ten minutes of his life, but he'll be utterly clueless about what has happened."

"I'm not coming to meet you," I protested. "Besides this being incredibly super-fucking weird, it's just a really bad time. Jaime's dad just died and I'm comforting her."

Not-Louise just stared at me in the same dumbfounded way Louise always used when dealing with me. He shook his head.

"Damn. I liked Roger. He was a good man. Her poor mom must be devastated."

"I'm a little stunned myself. It hit me a lot harder than I expected to be honest. Right in the feels, you know?" I said.

"It doesn't get any easier you know. Dealing with death. It fucks with your head, but it does let you appreciate the friends you do have a little bit more."

"Right now, it's just fucking with my head," I said and then skillfully pivoted: "So you see why I can't meet you. She needs me right now."

"Plus you really don't want to."

"Plus I really don't want to," I sighed in agreement.

"'Tough titty,' said the kitty when the milk ran dry."

"What?"

"Grow a fucking pair, Bob. You'll have plenty of time to be a shoulder to cry on later. I need you to drop her home, do everything you can to avoid fucking her--"

"Hey! I wouldn't--"

"I know you guys. I'm the one who got you guys together. Didn't expect you to fuck on my couch but--"

"We didn't fuck on your couch!"

Not-Louise gave me a scornful look. As if he was going to believe that. This was really fucking with my head seeing so much of Louise's expressions on this dude's face. If I had any doubt that this

"Not the first time anyway," I muttered.

Not-Louise glanced at his watch.

"Time's almost up," he said and beat twice on the bar ba-dum as he prepared to leave. "Cecil's in two hours."

I watched the man walk towards the door, wondering what the hell had just happened. It actually kinda made me a little uneasy that Louise so casually glammered the dude as if it was nothing to her, just took over completely like that. Then I wondered if it was something that I was capable of--

"Who was that?" Jaime asked as she returned.

"Just some guy."

Jaime looked at me shyly. "Thanks for being here for me," she said, "I'm really glad I didn't beat you up."

"Same," I agreed.

"Something's different about you," she noted thoughtfully. "This isn't the same you that I broke up with. What changed?"

I shrugged. "Oh, just the usual. Got turned into a vampire, sucked at it and died a couple of times. No biggie."

Jaime smiled ruefully at my "joke".

"Nice one," she said. "Better pay the man if you're taking me home."

I paid the man and I took her home.

No, I did not fuck her so don't look at me like that.

And then I went to meet my formerly dead friend and maker, Louise.

##### AUTHOR'S NOTE #####

End of Chapter 9. New chapter starts tomorrow and we get to find out what's been happening with Louise.