The Prior

POV: Elliot Foster

Donna complains about her feet aching. I roll my eyes and keep walking with her stomping behind me. My blood boils with her every last step. The last thing that I wanted was my ex-girlfriend ruining everything good thing I had going.

“Where the fuck is Cassidy?” I mutter.

Donna scoffs, “And, Max?” I just shake my head. We’re wandering around this stupid city with no clue of what just happened to the two most important members of our crew. Donna says something about sitting down for a minute and before I know it, she’s sat on a city bench. I sigh and sit down next to her.

She smiles at me softly, “How’s Ava?”

I feel my neck twinge. How dare she even ask that? I release air from my lung, as quietly as I can, managing my anger. “She’s great, I really miss her,” I say.

She tucks her hair behind her eyes and nods, “I regret leaving you, Elliot.”

I push myself up, off the bench and take a step back. She glances up at me, but I have to look away to avoid saying something I don’t mean. Staring at the alley behind us, I run my hands through my hair.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, or ever,” I spit, after a moment. Her eyes widen for a second and she leans back on the bench.

After a moment, she pulls one of her legs to her chest, “Okay.” We remain in place for a period of time. Donna stares out into the city streets. I lean against the brick wall of the alley behind me. A cool breeze runs through, chilling my bones. I look down at my feet, my loafers are scratched up. My pants are dirty. I get it now. Cassidy doesn’t love me. And, she probably never will.

I feel a pang in my chest. The tightness spreads to my throat, worsened as I swallow. I focus on breathing from my nose. The next breeze blows by and I feel it particularly on the tops of my cheeks. The water from my eyes has fallen and the cool breeze isn’t making them any easier to ignore. All I want right now is to hold her in my arms. Hear the rhythm of her laugh. Feel the beating of her heart. Another breeze comes through. I imagine the way her hair would blow in the wind, the way it would tickle my skin, if she was really in my arms. God, I need her to love me.

Donna asks if could find somewhere to sleep. I begrudgingly agree and we wander the streets of London, searching for a hotel. At last, we stumble upon one, Donna talks to the agent and she gets us a hotel. I follow up down the hallway.

She turns her head to face me as she talks, “Can you believe they did that?”

I snap out of my trance, “What?” Even though she is no longer facing me, I’m certain she rolled her eyes.

“Let us pay for the room tomorrow, when we’ll be gone,” she explains. I nod, as she unlocks the door to her room. I wait for her to give me my key, but she instead, gestures into her room.

I shake my head, “You’re not even paying for the room and you didn’t get us separate rooms?” she laughs, as I step in the room. I wasn’t joking.

The expression on my face must’ve alerted her to my seriousness, because she defends herself, “It’s 1969, there’s no way they would have just given me a hotel room.”

I sigh, “Right.”

She takes off her shoes, and I do the same. My toes are frozen in my socks, so I leave them on. This room has decent heating, though. Donna strips down, taking off all of her clothes. I slide of my pants and remove my button down, but leave my undershirt and underwear on…. Obviously.

I glance over at Donna after folding my clothes. Her breasts are just out. I instinctively close my eyes. God, Cassidy is going to kill me. Or maybe Donna. I hear Donna giggling.

“What?” she laughs, “You know I love to sleep naked!” I don’t even know what to say. She sighs, “Fine, pass me your shirt, I’ll wear that to bed. But, there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping in the clothes I was wearing today.”

I turn back to my folded pile of clothes and grab the button down.

“Elliot,” she says, “I meant your undershirt. The button down has to be worse than my sweater.”

I sigh, again, “Right.” Anything better than waking up with her boobs in my face, I guess. I reach behind me and pull the shirt off my back. Cautious to still not look at her, I throw her the t-shirt. She does put it on, but I question her motives.

She blushes, “Maybe I just wanted to see you shirtless.”

“Right,” I sigh. She tucks herself into bed. I walk around the bed and take a pillow from the top. I untuck the blankets at Donna’s feet and put my pillow at the end of the bed, then lay down next to her.

She scoffs, jokingly, I think, and says “Wow, you really can hold a grudge, huh?”

I don’t reply, I just lay down on my pillow and keep my eyes closed. She doesn’t bother me any more, so I’m left alone with my thoughts.

I wonder what Max and Cassidy are up to. Are they with the Beatles? Did they get lost? Are Max and Cassidy actually together right now? I hope they’re together. I have my qualms about Max, but I really can trust him to look out for Cassidy.

I think about my day today. The congressionalists sent Donna to kill me. What’s to say she doesn’t murder me in my sleep? Maybe I should’ve been a little nicer to her. I tilt my head up and glance to make sure she’s sleep. She is. I think about Max and I’s conversation today at the pub:

—

“All I’m saying is that you’ve got a type,” Max says. He’s drank about half of his beer, now.

I glare at him, shaking my head, “They look nothing alike.” Max nods, in agreement. Cassidy is blonde, rail-thin, muscular, yet short. Donna is nearly my height, a red-head, and has more of a womanly shape.

“Yeah, they don’t look alike, but they’re literally the same exact person, personality wise,” Max continues.

I instinctively make a face and scoff, “Nuh-uh.”

Max just rolls his eyes, “Yeah, the strong independent woman type. The boss-you-around type. The knows they’re hot and use that to their advatnace type. The fearless type. The jealous type.”

I process his words. Independent woman? Yup. Boss-you-around? Yup, and that is exactly why the Congressionalists were stupid to pick Donna for this. Know’s she’s hot? Yup. In very different ways, but I can’t disagree there. Fearless? Yup. Jealous? Oh, hell yeah! But… they are not the same person.

“They’re very different in other ways,” I defend. There has to be a reason, other than looks, that Cassidy is so special.

“Okay. Name one,” Max counters. I sighs, silent for a moment. I think about them both in my head. What do I love about Cassidy? I think back to her pulling me out of the water, treating my bullet wound. I think back to her talking be through my mental health the night before Belle died. What do I hate about Donna? I think back to our massive fight all those years ago. Her anger when I merely suggested doing what’s best for Ava. Her decision to choose her career over me.

At last, I speak up, “Donna is very selfish and self-serving. Cassidy is the most selfless person I’ve ever met. No one shows me care like she does.”

“Aw, that was kinda sweet. But, I’m still right. It’s a type. Some are more extreme than others, but you’ve got a type, man,” Max says, taking a sip of his beer.

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” I say, with a sigh.

—-

That circles my thoughts back to where Cassidy and Max are right now. I hope that they’re okay. Donna stirs from her sleep, sitting up. She stands up and uses the restroom. I lay still, hoping she thinks I’m asleep. I hear her reopen the bathroom door. I listen for her footsteps, but she doesn’t move, it seems. I don’t feel her crawl back into the bed. I gently open just one eye and see her standing there, staring at me. Thinking something is wrong, I sit up in bed at stare back at her.

“So, what do you say to us trying this again? You and me. Us against the world,” she proposes to me. A twinge of anger fields in my chest.

“No, Donna. We ended for a reason. I’m not interested,” I say.

She laughs, “There’s someone else. Isn’t there?” she leans against the wall separating our bedroom from the bathroom.

I feel my face fill with hear, “Yes.”

“Cassidy? Really? I knew you were fucking her, but what you actually like her?” she asks, in disbelief. She almost smiles, as if this was the news she wanted. A smile creeps onto my face, too.

I run my hands through my now greasy hair, “I actually love her.” Even though she doesn’t seem to love me. Donna gasps, putting her hand over her face. She straightens her back and shakes her head.

“Love?”

“Love.”

“Why didn’t you tell me off the bat? I would’ve laid off a bit,” she says, nervously laughing.

I involuntarily roll my eyes, “Donna, I know you. You would not have laid off. I was trying to protect her. You’re jealous and so is Cassidy. That would not have gone well and I need you two to get along, if we’re going to keep working together.” she fluffs her hair, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I am hella jealous. But, don’t worry, we won’t be working together much longer,” Donna says. Adrenaline rushes through my body, I scramble off the side of the bed. I reach for my gun, placed somewhere on Donna’s side of the room. I hold it up to her. She puts her hands up and laughs, “No, Elliot. I’m going to stay here. I’m not doing this shit again.” I hold my breath. She really is just standing there in her pajamas.

I lowers my gun. “You can’t do that. You’ll automatically come with us, when the mission is completed.” I scrunch my face together, in confusion. What is the talking about?

“No, I won’t. My recorder has a button, that jumps me when needed. They couldn’t synch me with you guys. And, my recorder is no where to be found. Which is fine, because I can’t do this again,” she explains.

“I understand,” I say, with a sigh.

She fluffs her skirt, “I was hoping you would stay with me. But, you seem happy, enough, with her. For the first time, I’ll surrender, let you be happy. Maybe, I’ll find you some day when I’m an old lady and you’re back in the present.” I relax my expression, my mouth hanging slightly open. I can’t find the words, at first. She just leans back against the wall, looking, for the first time, just like a woman. Not an FBI agent. Not the bitchy ex-girlfriend. Just a regular woman. My eyes almost water realizing how big something like that is for her.

I pull her into a hug, “You’ll always be my first love, Donna. But, thank you for respecting what I need, now, as an adult.”

She squeezes me back, and I quickly sever the hug. She offers to sleep on the floor, which makes me laugh.

“It’s okay, Donna,” I say, tucking myself back into bed.