Too much of everything is never enough (Open)

Canon effect: Josephine's presence lowers the inhibitions of any males in this thread.

Off limits, schmoff limits. The old ward was more of a home to Josie than any other room in the house and no breathing meat sack was going to tell her otherwise. Even when she was able to walk among the living and be seen she couldn’t fight the want to occasionally retreat upstairs and be among the dust and dark. It was almost like the ward called to her, beckoned her back. So much of her afterlife had been spent among the forgotten boxes and piles of storage that the staff couldn’t be bothered to put away. So perhaps it was understandable that she’d want to spend some time up there even when she didn’t have to. When she was invisible she’d relax on the beds, pace the halls, watch out the windows, and…be bored out of her skull. The off years were the worst. Sure she could chatter with the other spirits trapped at Highgrove but they got old, although not literally, after a while. It made her even more upset when some would go down to be with the humans and she’d have to stay upstairs, bitter and jealous that she couldn’t pop in and out when she wanted.

Currently, Josie was stretched out on one of the beds in the ward, ankles crossed and hands flat on her stomach. Blue eyes were trained on the ceiling over her head but she was not seeing it. She was off in some la la land, thinking about the boys downstairs and the next few years she’d have. Even though she had quite a bit of time by the standards of the living she knew it would all be over in minutes. She had eternity and could only spend two or three years out an about and the rest she was locked away. She needed more than that. She wanted to be out all of the time. She wanted to be one of the ghosts that got to float around without thinking about it, or knowing they were doing it, and mess with the living. Why did she have to pretend to be alive? Perhaps she should fake her death and then “haunt” the school from here on it. But that might fuck with people, right? Nurse Branbury had faked her paper work again so what would the staff say when they tried to contact her parents and found out Josie had been buried over ten years ago? His name wasn’t on the application but people might become suspicious.

But she was so sick of this. Josie needed the men of Highgrove and the services they offered her. She became so irritable when unable to get it and even though she had the other ghost men to frequent she wanted someone alive. She wanted the warm bodies. She wanted it now. One might ask why she was up here instead of downstairs getting some and the answer was, she didn’t know. She’d wanted to be up here and so here she was. Josie’s mind wandered to the pretty boy she’d met before and the cute guys in her classes and those bright blue eyes slipped closed, her lower lip catching between her teeth. Her hips shifted on the bed as her imagination took over, flashing her images of what those boys and men could do to her if only they’d venture up the stairs right now. One of the hands that had been on her stomach slid down to press into the top of her thigh, grabbing a handful of her skirt. Her other hand remained flat on her stomach, sliding the fabric of her blouse around and pressing it into her skin like the weight of another might.

Footsteps on the stairs caused her eyes to snap open and they fixed on the doorway, her hungry stare waiting for the one walking to appear. She mind begged for it to be a man, any man. She didn’t care who came up right now. She couldn’t control herself right now and just…God, she wanted it.

Nothing ever changed. The schedules were the same, the chores were the same, even the people were the same. Sure, new faces popped up, but they quickly gained the bored look of everyone else. In short, Nathanial hated it here. The only thing that made life bearable was Ellen and Ace. Ellen had taken to following him around like a shadow. Sometimes he thought that he should be creeped out by this fact, but for the most part it was comforting. It meant that she didn’t hold his lapse in judgement against him, and had perhaps forgiven him for it. He’d not forgiven himself, of course, and there was some doubt as to whether he would, but that was best left for another day. It was also up in the air if he would tell the new therapist. The note had come the other day, and Nate was fairly undecided how he felt. After all, a new doc meant no more Dr. Asshat, and that meant that perhaps markers would be returned to him. If he could only explain the problems he had without them. Surely they would see the need, not simply the want, for them.

That was the key of course, to make them see that it was a need, not a want. It wasn’t like he could do without them. They really had no idea how to deal with someone like him. If they did, they sure didn’t act like it. It didn’t seem like they had much clue on how to deal with any of the so-called residents. Drugs seemed to be the answer to just about everything. As much as he didn’t like the Masterson fellow, the poor kid had been absent from their dorm and when he was shown in public, he looked like a damn zombie. Poor kid didn’t deserve that, and Nate wasn’t sure what scared him more. The fact that they could drug him up like that, or the fact that they would. Either way, it was just bad.

His fingers itched to draw again, they still had his fingers taped, and it was just awful. Thank goodness he’d been able to fumble markers enough to draw on Ace. He’d wanted to do a large piece on the other’s back, like a temporary tattoo, but was to afraid that staff would see it in the showers, so he’d kept it to simple things, gaping wounds that dripped blood from the other boy’s scars, bite marks that looked real, bruises, anything that he could draw relatively simply and could be mistaken for actual wounds. The last thing he wanted was for Ace to get caught and his markers taken away. Right now, it was the only link he had to sanity. Ellen let him draw on her as well, but she always wanted to pay him back with sexual favors, and he was always afraid they’d get caught. They’d managed a few times, but it was difficult, and he didn’t always want to deal with the trouble of figuring out where to meet and how to make it all work. It was an odd sort of relationship that Nathanial had formed with the two others, and it occupied his thoughts a good bit of the time. Ellen was the more romantic of the two relationships, but even to call it that was stretching it. It was a relationship of convience, on both sides, and better the evil you knew than the one you didn’t, right? Ace … how to classify Ace? Nate always ran into trouble on this one. He liked Ace, rather a lot, would even sleep with Ace if given the opportunity, but at the same time, there was a deeper feeling building for the Asian boy that Nate couldn’t put words to. When he tried, it all just confused him and he would quickly give up. What he knew was that Ace was special, and he didn’t want the other boy gone from his life any time soon.

With all of the thoughts about Ace and Ellen and drawing running through the dark haired head that was beginning to throb, Nate ceased to pay attention to where he was going, and before he knew it, he’d ended up somewhere he shouldn’t have been, the old ward. Since he was back here, he might as well explore, after all, getting in trouble would be the same if he was caught barely in or further in. Right? That’s what he figured, so he moved deeper into the labyrinth of passageways that made up this area of the “school.” His footsteps echoed oddly in the crowded and dusty halls, and he was sure he’d be caught before very much longer. Who he got caught by didn’t matter much to him, but maybe he’d find a stray pen or marker up here that could be smuggled back for his personal enjoyment. One never knew. He stopped at a desk and rummaged through it, looking for anything to either get the bandages off or to draw with, and grinned wildly when he found an old pen. Now he had to hope it worked. A nearby box was his test paper, and after a lick with his tongue, he glided the pen across the cardboard and got….nothing. The pen was cast to the floor with a muttered curse, and Nate stomped to the next desk, repeating the process.

It was demoralizing, not being able to find something as simple as a working pen. He pushed through a set of doors, not really looking at what was beyond them so much as looking for another desk, and his eyes at first skipped over the girl sprawled on one of the beds, her hands in rather obvious positions to tell him what she’d been engaging in. Dark eyes quickly filled with interest and a bit of curiosity, for she inspired no visions in him. Slowly, those thick lashed eyes raised to her face, and his breath drew in. She was quite lovely, and he swallowed hard. It took him a moment to regain his senses, and his eyes dropped from her to the ground as he backed up towards the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just looking for a pen.” God, he sounded like the freak he didn’t want to admit to being. How retarded was he?

Her eyes locked on Nate when he came around into the ward, her eyes tracing the lines of his body. At first she didn’t move, remaining in the slightly compromising position she’d been discovered it. Her hunger for the touch of another was overriding the thoughts that she’d seen him around and heard the whispers. Josie made it her business to know the boys of Highgrove and what they were into. After all, these guys were here because they were fucked up in some way and she had to know what she was getting into…or what was getting into her. Her standards as far as physical appearance was concerned only required them to not be hideous. However, she wasn’t about to shack up with someone who was going to cut her pretty face to ribbons. That was her money maker and if the guy was a total nut she wasn’t going to grant him access to her lovely body. So perhaps it was ironic that she was killed by a boy she’d deemed semi safe to hook up with. He was weirdo, kinda violent, but he’d always been sweet to her and he looked like he needed to get laid. Josie had no idea that she’d signed herself up to be on his hit list when he caught her sleeping around with other boys.

If she were in any clearer state of mind she may have hesitated longer before her lips split into a playful grin and she held out a hand to beckon him forward. The walls did have ears at Highgrove and lips eager to tell the tales of the residents. Really, she’d just heard it through the grape vine and perhaps once or twice when she was still invisible and casing out this year’s batch of potential targets. The fact that he had a kink for drawing on girls with markers and pens may have put her off. But right now anyone could have walked up the stairs and they would do. She was too far gone to actually think about the consequences of her actions. All he had to do was stop standing there like a retard and get over there. She wasn’t going to bite unless he wanted her too and it wouldn’t be that hard. She wasn’t into the whole pain thing. She just wanted to get what was hers and move on with her life.

“I have pen.” She whispered, voice practically dripping with want. “Come here.” Her hand was still outstretched toward Nate, fingers wiggling in his direction. There was every possibility that they two would be discovered up here, being so out in the open and her inability to be quiet when she really wanted it. Not to mention they probably already had an audience of ‘inactive’ ghosts. Not that it really mattered. They were probably just a bored as she was when she was hiding and would probably enjoy the show. “Come on…” She begged again, her arm tense as she reached as far as she could from the position she was in. The hand that was closed in her skirt gripped it tighter, pulling it up the tiniest bit higher to reveal more flawless alabaster skin. It was a bonus to being dead in her opinion, never having to worry about zits or skin discoloration. She may as well be a doll on a shelf.

Nate was taking too damn long to get over here in her opinion. In reality, he could be dashing across the room toward her but to Josie each second that ticked by might as well have been an hour. Each second was wasted and it brought them closer to discovery.

Their eyes locked and sparks flew, for him at least. She beckoned him forward, and like a gawky, middle-school kid at his first high school party, he tripped over his own feet as he took the first step towards her. Perhaps it was because he could look at her without seeing her death, without any of the visions that normally plagued his vision. Maybe that’s what made it so special and unique. Even with Ellen and Ace, he had to fight to see them through the visions. Briefly, he wondered why she was here, but the thought flew from his head the moment she whispered. She had a pen! Oh thank the good Lord and angels! It was a stupid thing to be excited about, but priorities in this place were a bit different than anywhere else. Not that he needed a pen watching her.

He hit the side of the bed she was on as his knees gave out, his gaze locked on that skirt that lifted slightly. Although he’d fought Ellen about sex, that was always because it was a payment to her. It wasn’t as if she actually wanted it. This girl was begging for it. She reminded him of the head cheerleader back home, the biggest slut the school had ever seen. There were rumors that she’d even slept with a few of the male teachers. He wondered if this girl was the same. Not that it mattered, they were here, and he wasn’t going to turn down this opportunity. He’d have to be an idiot to do that.

If Nate had been thinking clearly, he would have realized that the logic his brain was giving him didn’t match his normal attitude. Although he didn’t think sex had to be special and beautiful and wonderful, he didn’t just sleep with random girls or guys. No, generally he got to know them first. But there was something about her that made him forget all of that and want to just dive in and enjoy himself. The skin he could see was like cream, all smooth perfection. “I’m right here, and I think scissors would be better in this case.” His fingers were still taped, but his palms could still feel, and he sent one to glide up her thigh, touching that sweet flesh that looked so perfect. “I’m Nate, who are you?”

If he was going to have sex with this girl, and he sure did want to, names needed to be exchanged at least. He wanted to draw his fingers down her cheek, but with the bandages, it wouldn’t be the same, so he settled for gripping the hand that had been outstretched towards him earlier. He wished at that moment he was smother, more experienced, more suave, but he would deal with what he had, and since she looked so desperate, he leaned down to brush his lips over hers, hoping she wouldn’t flip out on him all of a sudden and call in the staff. This seemed almost too good to be true. It had to be a trap, but if it was, he was already caught, might as well see how far she’d let him go before she screamed the dreaded “r” word or called the staff in right? That was the philosophy he was going with right now, it seemed like a rather good plan. After all, if it wasn’t a trick, there was a chance for something good to happen, something that wasn’t the same. Change was definitely good.

Josie’s pleading look turned to a playful smile as Nate crossed the room toward her. She knew he would. To date there was only one man whom she wanted but could not have. Said man was immune to the charm she worked and usually got pissed off with her when she tried more conventional methods of seduction. But Nate was just a living, breathing human being and therefore powerless against her. At least that’s what Josie liked to think. Her influence wasn’t irresistible and with enough willpower a man could turn his back on her. In fact, many men passed through Highgrove without finding their way into Josie’s arms and bed. There weren’t enough hours in the day to get to them all. She flirted with anything that moved but most did not receive a second glance unless they were convenient. However, when she set her sights on someone and began to pursue them they were done for. No one could fight forever. People had a breaking point and with her charm she was capable of finding it sooner than most. Too bad it didn’t work on a certain nurse who was dead sexy. But now was not the time to think of him for it would surely summon him.

So Nate was basically right in thinking that she was like the girl from his school. He was also correct in that it didn’t matter right now. Josie didn’t care who came up those stares and Nate could have been anyone. She just wanted something. But now Nate was finally next to her and the hand that had been holding her skirt pushed open palm up Nate’s arm and under the sleeve of his shirt. Even the simple touches they were exchanging were sending shocks into her. His hands felt so good against her. “Oh, scissors? Too bad we don’t have any. I guess you’ll have to rip my clothes off.” To her, there was no other need for scissors right now. What else could he possibly want them for? It was kind of a shame too. The idea of Nate hovering over her cutting her skirt, blouse, and panties off was rather sexy. The destruction of the clothes that kept them from being one was perhaps even a little symbolic. “I’m Josie.”

Names weren’t really important to her although it was nice to know what name to scream. Again, Nate’s name had reached her ears through the grape vine but at the moment she was far too into this to put two and two together let alone care. She wanted what he seemed very willing to give. When he leaned down to kiss her Josie’s head raised slightly, meeting his lips with more confidence and enthusiasm. She wasn’t looking for tender kisses and soft touches. She wanted him to kiss her breathless, leave bruises with his fingers, give her everything but still leave her wanting more. Her hands slid up over him before fists closed in his clothing and she pulled him onto the bed, wanting him on top of her. She would not wait anymore. He’d had enough time to be an awkward boy going on his first date. Now was the time to step up to the plate and be the man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. Josie wasn’t against being in the driver’s seat but that was not what she wanted right now. She wanted Nate in control. She wanted him to go for the gold and leave her too tired to move.

That smile sealed his death warrant, so to speak. There was no way he was able to resist a girl that smiled at him like that. Thoughts of Ace and Ellen that were still floating in his head took flight, leaving only this beautiful girl and her smooth, soft skin. It didn’t matter what damage this might cause to those relationships, his entire thought process was focused on this girl, and what she wanted. Nate wasn’t a virgin, hadn’t been for several years, but his experience was fairly limited to drunken teenage fumblings and a few non-drunk times in the darkness. Neither had prepared him for the task Josie set before him, but he would do his best. That’s all he really could do right?

Her hands slid over him, causing his excitement and eagerness to rise. There was a part of him that wanted to take this slow, that wanted to savor this experience for all it was worth. But if he took it to slow, they were highly likely to get caught, and that wasn’t something he wanted right now. No, he wanted to possess her. He didn’t know where the thoughts or actions were coming from, but he went with the instincts telling him what to do. His hand slipped up under her skirt, skirting the edges of her underwear as she told him her name. There was a part of him that was a bit relieved she’d missed his point about the scissors, but ripping her clothes off seemed like a decent idea, and he fisted the cloth beneath her skirt and gave a might tug, feeling it part and tossing it to the side. A smile danced across his face, and then a surprised look as she tumbled him onto the bed and her.


Nate arched up, pressing their hips together, and tore at her clothing. Buttons flew as her shirt fell open, and the dark head came down to lick the long column of her neck and down further. He came back up and kissed her, rougher this time. He balanced himself on his knees, the bandaged fingers scraping against her skin as he struggled with her skirt. Dark eyes were filled with heat and lust, roving over her frame with hunger and something akin to wonder. He couldn’t believe that he was going to get to do this. Surely if it was a trap, she would have called to the staff by now, there was more than enough evidence to convict him. Not that he was actually thinking any of that. Rational thought processes had long ago abandoned the teenager, the only thought going through his head was Pretty girl, sex, pretty girl, sex.

He gave up on the skirt, after all, he’d already taken off the other bits, and fell back atop her, kissing her with a bit more enthusiasm than skill, bandaged hands cupping her cheeks while his hips swiveled in the cradle of hers. He was eager and ready to go, but he wanted to make sure she was, hence the kissing that he was doing. Nate really had a lot to learn about girls, it was lucky Josie wasn’t picky.

---

"Ahem."

With his ever-present clipboard clutched to his chest and his ballpoint pen in his other hand, 'Nurse' Branbury cleared his throat loudly from the doorway behind the two miscreants. Lord have mercy, Josephine St. James. Never have I known a woman in possession of less class and breeding than you. Interrupting her romantic rendezvous was almost a full time job in and of itself, and if he'd been a less kind person than he was, he might have wished she'd just stayed invisible. Each time she was enlisted on the books, he spent a great deal of his time keeping a sharp eye on her. If she got into too much trouble and they spoke of sending her away, that would quickly become a problem. He had to exercise damage control frequently.

"Miss St. James," he started, his tone slightly impatient, but polite all the same. Many people would simply call the girl a whore and a slut, but he had better breeding and manners than that. If he was honest, he wasn't sure what he'd call her. A lady of poor moral standing, perhaps? "I am almost certain you and your friend can find more productive ways to spend your time." He was tactfully avoiding looking at them, standing, turned to the side, in the doorway of the ward. he stared at the far wall as politely as he could muster. He knew he ought to have been shocked, but if truth be told, it was getting a little too routine, breaking up her little trysts. "If you're both wanting for some other way to spend your free time, I can certainly arrange extra chores for you, of course. The Devil makes work for idle hands, and such."

Naturally, he wouldn't be marking this on their files. It was probably foolish, but he didn't want the world of the living meddling in Josephine's affairs any more than they had to be, and he imagined Mr. Schram would most certainly get into a lot more trouble than he was already in. Over the years, he'd witnessed far worse things than fingers being bandaged, and though Nate must have felt angry and bitter about what had happened to him, it was perhaps only because he had not experienced the worst case scenarios. Psychiatry through the earlier decades of the Twentieth Century had been none to pretty. "Get up and get dressed now, and we'll say no more about the matter." He nodded a little stiffly, just once, perhaps more to himself than for their benefit. He hated this room, hated being near it, hated being in it. He felt almost as if the walls were watching him even now, as if they alone could soak up all of the energies that had come through this ward. So many tragedies... "Now, hurry along before someone else comes looking for you."

Ohsonofabitch!

And everything had been going so well until that tell tale throat clearing sounded off near where the two residents were tangled. It didn’t matter how far gone she was into her wants and needs. That sound would shatter its way through and kill the mood every time. How the fuck did he always manage to find her and ruin everything? It was like Nurse Branbury’s sole mission in death was to prevent her from having any fun. He always showed up just as things were getting good and politely suggest they listen to him and break it up. She’d teased him before about spying on her and enjoying the show but all it got her were extra chores and a night in seclusion. He was such a pain in the ass and she was convinced he needed to get laid. Too bad he always said no…

But this was not completely over for her or Nate. Josie could not have imagined a better find than Nate in her hour of need. He’d walked up at exactly the right moment and was doing everything she wanted him to. It had taken him a little longer than she would have liked for him to get over the initial surprise of finding her but then they were on a roll. She’d hoped that things would go well and that they wouldn’t be discovered. Until Branbury’s figurative bucket of ice water entrance she thought she was about to explode with need. Nate’s hands and lips were doing all the right things and she’d been responding favorably, kissing him back and pressing up against him. The way he’d been tearing at her clothing had only made her want him more. Josie made a mental note to keep this one in mind for the future if she needed a quick fix and didn’t feel like hunting down someone new. Even though most men were a one and done with her there were a couple that she’d return to if she got desperate. Nate was among those lucky men to leave an impression.

And next time would likely come very soon thanks to the good nurse. As soon as she heard him she went completely still under Nate, almost as if his vision was based on movement and if they kept still he’d move along. Unlikely. Josie’s arms fell away from Nate and flopped down onto the mattress around her, her lips pulling back as her head dropped onto the slightly dusty pullow. “You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?” She didn’t care if he was disappointed, or of talking back would get her in trouble. Branbury was always hesitant about writing her or the other ghosts up and she abused that a little more than she should. Josie began to push at Nate so she wiggle her way from under him, wanting to get this over with so that she could go find a hole to hide for a while. She made a point to flash both Nate and the good nurse as she moved to stand, wanting to tease her friend a little more and to make the good nurse as uncomfortable as possible. “Just because you’re not getting any doesn’t mean you have to spoil my fun.”

She looked back to Nate with that sweet smile and reached out to touch his face, smirking playfully. “I’ll see you around, okay?” She stole a kiss before she turned back to Branbury, hoping that Nate would shuffle off so that she could have a few choice words with the other ghost. This shit had to stop.

Sonofabeatch

Just as Nate was ready to consummate this new relationship, the throat cleared from behind them, and his eagerness just shriveled right away. Apparently the sound had a similar effect on Josie, since her arms fell away and her head caused dust to fly up from the pillow. Her words brought a smile to his face, and he almost responded to her comment until he realized she was talking to the person that had interrupted them. This was going to cause the most massive case of smurfism ever! He rolled off the girl as she pushed, and awkwardly tucked himself away with a small grimace of pain. Once he was proper, he rolled off the cot and into a standing position, coming around to stand by Josie.

He appreciated the flash of flesh before she fixed herself up. She had some real spirit, giving the staff member that had interrupted them as good as she got. He would have normally spoken up by now, but Josie seemed to be doing just fine, and getting into more trouble wasn't something that he wanted to do. Especially with the changes and extra watchful eyes that seemed to be following him around. He glanced over to the man standing in the doorway and his brow creased. This was someone he hadn't met yet, and he wondered where this particular staffer worked. Not that it really mattered, but it was nice to know who to avoid where.

When Josie turned back to him, his thoughts derailed and focused entirely on her. That soft touch and her smirk brought out a similar expression on his face, and he returned her kiss roughly. "See you." His voice was a bit harsh still, and he gave a slight cough to clear his throat. He nodded to the man as he brushed past him in the doorway, hoping against hope that this incident didn't get back to the woman who had bandaged his fingers, or worse, Dr Bjorgen. That would be a nightmare of epic proportions. He had wanted to say more, to act all devil may care, but leaving had just seemed like the best option at that point. Arguing with the staff had only been bad news.

So he'd left, walking a bit oddly, and went to sit on the stairs below, hoping that Josie would come down shortly and they could run off and finish what they'd just barely started. He didn't know how much time passed before he figured out they weren't coming down anytime soon. He gave a disgusted sigh, and then trudged off to go and find out what time it was and what he was supposed to be doing now.

If Josephine St. James thought that by now, flashing the good doctor a little skin was going to get him ruffled, she was sorely mistaken. In the first place, he'd seen more naked people through his occupation than seemed reasonable, and in the second, he still was not looking directly at them, reluctant to encroach further into the room than he already had, and not interested in the least in seeing them mid-coitus, or almost so. The end result was that Josephine's carefully orchestrated flash remained for Nate's eyes only while the nurse continued to stare at the far wall and try to ignore the sensation that it was staring right back. No. I don't want to play.

He sighed at Josephine's inevitable outbursts. He knew that she hated him for the most part, and if he could have, he would have just left her well enough alone. But if her recklessness endangered him, or any of the others... He couldn't allow that, and no amount of selfish and flippant back-chat from the girl was going to make him relent on that point. What if she was discovered? What if they had this place exorcised, and it actually worked? Where would they go? What would happen to them all? Did Heaven and Hell exist, or would they simply cease to be? Surely, if the former was true, Josephine St. James ought to have had a better care for the dismal state of her immortal soul, but it just so happened that she didn't, and only continued to be a frustrating hassle he would have preferred not to deal with were he not so dedicated to his work.

Branbury waited for the boy to leave them before he took a brisk step backwards, out of that room, and lingered in the hallway beyond. Nate's footfalls stilling on the staircase told him that the boy was likely waiting for her, and a rare, brief expression of tiredness and vague defeat crossed his features before he banished it back to the depths from which it had risen. he couldn't allow such dark and dreary thoughts. He wasn't defeated. He'd find some way to get through to her, surely. Perhaps it was just this place playing tricks on his mind while tragedies past oozed from the walls like cool breath. He wondered, if Josephine had grown up in a less privileged time, if she would have turned out differently. What if she could have seen all of the children who had died in this room, in his very hands and arms without a thing he could do to save them? Would she find it in herself to have a care for another soul on this planet other than her own? He understood that she was a woman trapped forever in a young body, but unlike some of the others, she hadn't seemed to really grow up. She was the proverbial skipping phonograph record, stuck on the same stanza over and over again, and try as he might, he'd been unable to jolt the needle enough to move on.

"You know, Miss St. James, no-one is going to wish to buy the cow if they are receiving the milk for free." How many times had he said such things to her? He didn't know why he wasted his breath any more. Perhaps he was foolish to hope beyond hope that one of these days, something would stick. He was never cruel to her though, and he never swore or called her any number of colourful names that another man might, knowing her nature. Finally he turned to peer directly at her, awaiting whatever childish outburst was inevitably to come with all the patience he could muster. There were few, perhaps, at Highgrove who would ever truly appreciate how much he did and just how much he had to put up with. Josephine was still a babe in the woods, comparatively, and Branbury prayed that they would not have to keep doing this for centuries. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to do it and retain his sanity and spirits.

While she understood the concerns Branbury had, she didn’t think he needed to be up in her business all the time. It wasn’t a big deal. She couldn’t get pregnant and she knew all the hiding places of the house. She could take a lover and be done with him. It wasn’t like she needed all day to feel satisfied. A half hour or so would do. Most guys weren’t even good for that so they’d be in and out, if you will. She wasn’t hurting anyone by having fun. He just seemed to have a bug up his ass about her and had since the day she died. Maybe he’d been dead too long to understand how she felt about it all. Maybe he’d just become too content to hide in the shadows and drift through afterlife like it was just another thing. As far as Josie was concerned he had no passion, no drive. He was dedicated to the work of a nurse and keeping all the ghosts at Highgrove in line and that was the size of it. It was kinda sad, really. He was hot and probably an awesome lover if he’d ever let loose. Time and time again she was told she was barking up the wrong tree but it never hurt to try. And, if at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. She was nothing if not determined to get what she wanted.

Josie sat back down on the side of the bed after Nate left, pulling her blouse closed and buttoning those that were left after Nate ripped it open. Her panties were a lost cause somewhere on the floor but her skirt was long enough to cover her, just barely meeting the dress code, until she could get back to her room and find a new pair. Irritated eyes were still trained on the other ghost, wishing that he’d just vanish into aether and be done with it. He was making this afterlife hell rather than the heaven it very well could be. Josie was forever sixteen and sexy. She could have any man she wanted with the right amount of push. And yet, Branbury seemed to be there at every turn waiting to rip the rug out from under her and leave her wanting. She should tell him that if he busted her again she’d make him pick up where the other man left off but he’d only roll his eyes and then give her ‘the look.’ He always gave her ‘the look’ and she was ready to stab his eyes to make it stop. She could see it in her mind when she was misbehaving. It was almost like the mouse feeling the eyes of the owl just before it’s clutched in the powerful talons. When he came around it meant the end of her fun.

Her face twisted with upset as he spoke, her arms crossing over her chest. “In case you forgot, nurse, no one will be buying the cow unless they’re having steak for dinner. Bessy’s already been sent to slaughter.” She sniffled, eyes dropping to the floor. She did hate him. She hated him for spoiling the one thing she had left. He had to remind her that she would never have anything beyond what she could get for those thirty minutes in a dark and dusty corner. Most days it was enough. But every now and then it struck a chord in her and all she wanted to do was move on and never look at these walls again. Whatever lied beyond had to be better than this. “I know you don’t actually give a shit so you don’t have to hang around and lecture. Go file your paper work and leave me alone.” She shifted on the bed, arms pressing tighter in her chest and legs crossing rigidly. She wanted to throw herself at him and scream, tell him that he was a bastard for everything and blame this whole mess on him. But it wasn’t his fault at all. The one responsible was lurking invisible somewhere. Not here, she knew, but he wasn’t ever too far.

Slowly, her eyes turned back up to Branbury, looking to see if he was still there or if he’d wandered off when she told him too. There was a small part of Josie that wanted him there, perhaps to tell her it would all be okay and she’d find peace eventually. She wished he’d comfort her in other ways as well but it was just a hopeless dream at this point.

If Josephine was expecting comforting words or gestures from Chester Branbury, she was frankly rather out of luck. How many times had he tried over the years? How many of his words had simply gone straight over her head, to be ignored entirely or forgotten about no less than five seconds after they'd left his lips? Certainly, he had a streak of the Dunkirk Spirit in him, but just how long could that stretch? He tried and tried again to reason with the girl woman, and felt as if his sentiments fell on deaf ears. He told himself he shouldn't give up, that one day something would give, but in that moment, standing on the precipice of that old ward, he couldn't seem to sum any up. He was angry and insulted, though you couldn't tell to look at him. he looked as polite and placid as ever. But the anger was evident in the fact that he didn't bother to say anything else. She had a point, even if it was a selfish one, so what could he really add to this situation with more words?

So he only sighed, and rearranged the clipboard to sit under his arm, his hands stuffing into the pockets of his slate slacks. She was wrong if she thought he didn't care at all, that he couldn't possibly understand her plight. The folly of youth seemed to insist to her that Branbury had never weathered storms himself. But that simply wasn't true, wasn't possible after one-hundred and ten years. It was likely that it was the other way around actually. She had no conception of all he had seen, all he had been through in that time. Two world wars, disease epidemics, changing hands and changing staff, constantly shuffling residents, deaths. And all the while he had weathered that alone. Not to mention, like Josephine, he had been through his own death. While she may have been sore about hers, it did not mean that Branbury had not been sore about his too, he had simply vowed not to let it own him and control him when he had this second opportunity to go good in this tiny world.

He felt her eyes seeking him out in the gloom, and briefly, he glanced to her face. Oh yes, he expected she wanted some comforting words. It was there on her face, so illuminated by the most garish shade of red lipstick ever to paint the mouth of one of Whitechapel's cheapest harlots. That's unfair, Chester Branbury. Hush. But she had sworn at him and insulted him again. What did she expect from him now? Just because he'd always been polite to her and as kind as he could didn't mean he would always do it. How many insults over how many years? How much screaming and swearing? Before, he had weathered it with the same temperate and patient nature as always, but there came a point for everyone where they could no longer just turn a blind eye. Before this moment, he would have paused, seeing that look on her face. He would have offered some words of comfort. But why waste his breath now when she had made her hate so apparent.

So, rather than say another word, which she was no doubt expecting because he always did, he turned back to the hallways and smartly strode away from the door. He didn't even bother telling her that she should go downstairs and rejoin the others. He didn't offer any sentiment of consolation. There was just the awkward silence of a man scorned -or possibly hurt- in his wake, and that silence fell heavy over the old ward as his footfalls moved away, fading quieter with each step. And from the darker recesses of the room, and the slowly drifting motes of dust like sand dunes in an ancient desert, the Old Ward seemed to drinking it all in, remember every nanosecond, as if it could see it, document it. Dark eyes saw all, silent and impartial.

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