Baker and Jones Ch. 01

"Are you alright, Miss Jones?" Annette asks again, trying to keep her voice calm and neutral. She steps carefully over the shards in her nightgown, lowering the candlestick to see the floor better.

Cordelia mumbles something to herself but it's unintelligible. She weakly hammers a fist against the table, causing it to rattle, and slowly turns her face over to look at Annette. Her lip looks cut and bloodied and her knuckles are cracked and red.

"What do you want, Annette?" Cordelia sighs, scowling at her.

"I came to investigate the noise. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

Annette sets the candlestick down on the table and carefully tiptoes into the kitchen, retrieving a broom and dustpan as well as placing a kettle onto the stove. As quietly as possible, she begins sweeping up the remains of the bottle, hearing only the soft jingling of the glass scraping against each other and Cordelia's labored breaths.

"What happened, Miss Jones?"

"It isn't your business."

Annette pauses. "Can I bring you anything?"

"I gave you the evening off... go away."

"I'll either have to clean this now or clean it tomorrow," Annette replies patiently. "I'd rather avoid you cutting your foot on this glass."

"You're as insufferable as Penny," she grumbles, but relents in her protests.

"I shall endeavor to be more sufferable going forward, Miss Jones."

Cordelia snorts. She lifts up from the table and drops her body down into one of the chairs, glaring at Annette with an expression of bemusement and vexation. Her movements are slow and sluggish. Annette continues brushing up the remaining shards, trying to ignore Cordelia's eyes fixed upon her.

"Are your wounds alright?"

"They're fine," Cordelia huffs. "I've had worse."

"May I have a look at them?"

"And do what, exactly?"

"Ensure they won't get infected, Miss Jones."

"Will you finally leave me alone if I let you?"

"Yes, Miss."

Cordelia folds her arms across her chest and shakes her head in disbelief. After a few moments, she exhales, "Fine."

Annette sets the broom against the wall, hoping she hasn't missed too many glass pieces. She'll double back in the morning and make sure the rest is clean, but at least for now it looks acceptable. She returns to the kitchen and pours some hot water from the kettle into a bowl, grabbing a clean rag and returning to Cordelia, where she pulls up a chair and sits down.

"May I see your hand?"

Displeased, Cordelia obeys, stretching a hand out and sloppily placing it onto the table for Annette to inspect. Nervously, Annette reaches out and takes Cordelia's palm, surveying the damage for a brief moment before dunking the rag in the hot water and gently dabbing it against her knuckles. Cordelia hardly winces at the feeling, which Annette decides is either a sign the wounds aren't too bad or that she's had too much to drink. Perhaps both.

"What happened?" She asks, trying to avoid meeting Cordelia's gaze.

Cordelia looks as though she wants to turn a stiff lip and ignore her, and Annette is surprised when she doesn't. "I defeated Conrad."

"Conrad?"

"The number six heavyweight," she explains, a little proud.

"Boxing?"

"What else would it be?"

"You box with the men?"

"Can't box with women, can I?"

"I suppose not," Annette concedes. "I'm amazed they let you into the ring."

"They don't."

Annette gives her a confused look and reaches out to take her other hand. Her left hand is far worse than the right, and the skin has cracked open to reveal deep cuts in multiple places. "How then did you box Conrad?"

"I fought him in a bar after his match."

Cordelia winces at one particularly deep cut, though it quickly fades to relief as the hot water disinfects and then soothes the wound.

"And you did this for a case...?"

"My life isn't just being a detective, Miss Baker."

"So you do this for fun."

"If that's what you'd like to believe."

"Penny must've had her hands full taking care of you," Annette smirks.

"Christ, Penny had no sense of privacy. She was always pestering me and nagging me and trying to dictate how to keep things in order," Cordelia groans. "Never expected that having a collar would be so much work."

Annette purses her lips. "And so you took on another?"

"You were cheaper," Cordelia says simply.

"And I'm very grateful you took on my contract, Miss Jones."

"Are you always so smug, Miss Baker?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Cordelia is silent. Annette is surprised to find herself relax and even smile politely. Something about Cordelia's presence tonight feels muted and resigned, and her vacant threats to replace or remove Annette feel shallow, as though there is nothing behind them at all.

"Are your lips alright?" She asks, finishing with her hands.

"I can take care of it myself," Cordelia sighs, grabbing the warm cloth and pressing it to her mouth. "You've done enough, Miss Baker. Go back to sleep."

Annette remains fixed to her chair. "Are you hungry?"

"I told you to go to sleep."

"I'm aware, Miss Jones. Are you hungry?"

"Go to sleep, Annette."