The Cannonball Run {tag Jo/Ellen}

[Deleted]

"Let him go Jax. It's OK. Unfortunately, yes... We know him."

Jax nodded. Orders received.

It was like someone flipped a switch. He took a step back and sheathed the KA-BAR all in one smooth motion. The last, microscopic remnants of his sense of humour goaded him to salute Jo but she had a shotgun and seemed unimpressed already. His sense of self preservation won out quite easily.

He retrieved his M4, briefly checked it over, then flipped the safety. After assessing the situation between Dean and Jo, he took a few more steps out of the line of fire.

Once the dust cleared, he'd ask what was left of Dean for his P250 back. For the time being, soldier boy shut up.

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

"Let him go Jax. It's OK. Unfortunately, yes... We know him."

Unfortunately? Yeah, that stung a little. He knew not to expect anything other than a little bitter, snarky attitude though. Probably deserved it too, but if she'd welcomed him with open arms, then that would have given him real cause for concern. After all, first time they ever met, she'd punched him in the face.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence. The almighty Dean Winchester. What do you want? Or are you just passing through and for some reason, lucky me, you crossed my path?"

"Good to see you too, Jo." He replied sarcastically, peeling himself away from the Jeep now that Jax had backed off like an obedient guard dog. The gun he'd taken got lowered for the time being and Dean glanced down at it, noticing for the first time how immaculately maintained it was. A part of him respected a man who kept his weapons in good condition, maybe he'd actually give it back if Jo played nice.

"I'm here because I have information I think you and Ellen might wanna know about." Shifting slightly, he cast his eyes over Jo's shoulder to where the rest of her crew were standing by as back up.

"Is there somewhere more private we can talk?"

[Jade Stone]

Jo

Jo contemplated what Dean said for a moment. Just the fact that he had sought them out and came here looking for them told her something. She new that she wasn't going to be able to just brush him off and send him on his way. No matter how much her inner bitch was teller her to do just that. The thought was going back and forth in her mind like a ping pong ball. They didn't need him, but did they? The truth was they ALL needed each other in these times. Their numbers were small and they had to stick together.

Shaking her head she didn't like it, not one little bit. Why did he always do this. When it was convenient for him he used them. Damn, Dean Winchester. But, what could you do? Jo knew the history, the fact that Dean and Sam had been chosen as vessels. Sam had succumbed to Lucifer, no one was quite clear on the reasons why that happened. Dean was Sam's brother, so he new more about it than anyone else, another reason why she couldn't just send him packing.

With a sigh Jo looked over at Jax and motioned him over to her. Then she turned and looked behind her and motioned one of her team to come over as well.

"Jax, ride with me back to the camp. Rick, take over the sentry duty for now. I'll send someone to relieve you as soon as we get back."

Jo turned to face Dean again and held out her hand. The muscles in her cheek twitching as she gritted her teeth. Her eyes met Dean's again and her expression was still hard.

"Give me the gun... or you can just walk back to wherever you came from. I don't have time to play games with you."

When he begrudging handed the gun over to her, Jo handed it off back to Jax. Nodding her head toward the hummer. She walked back to the vehicle opening the back door. As she held it open she looked at Dean and raised her eyebrows.

"Get in. As long as you're a good boy we'll make sure someone takes care of your jeep."

Waiting for him to get in she slammed the door closed after him. Pulling open the driver's side door she paused for a moment and looked at Dean then looked over at Jax. A small smirk playing on her face as she spoke to Jax.

"Keep your eye on him. If he gets too snarky, shoot him."

Jo climbed in behind the wheel. Waited until the rest of the team got situated in their vehicles before she took off toward the camp. She wondered idly what her mother was going to think of this.

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

"Give me the gun... or you can just walk back to wherever you came from. I don't have time to play games with you."

"What's the matter Jo? Don't you trust me?" Dean feigned offense but knew he'd do exactly the same thing in her position. New outsiders coming into his camp were thoroughly vetted before he let them anywhere near the others to avoid infection and to make sure they weren't going to be harm to the others. It made sense to disarm him, much to his regret.

Not bothering to wait for the inevitable negative reply, Dean sighed and studied the gun in his hands, running his fingers along the length of it for a moment as if he were contemplating the decision. After a few moments, he unchambered the bullet in the pipe and smoothly removed the magazine as though it were a gun he'd had all his life. He placed the bullet's in Jo's open hand and then turned to stare Jax in the face while he blindly dismantled his Sig into three parts like an expert. He did it partly to annoy the guy, but also to show him that he wasn't the only one with a little training.

"Nice gun. Trigger feels a little sticky though, might wanna have a look at that."

With a slightly smug smirk on his face, he dropped the parts ontop of the magazine he'd given to Jo and held his hands up to show his surrender to whatever she wanted to do with him. At this point, there was no sense in being belligerent. He had come here for their help after all.

[Deleted]

Jax approached his de-facto commanding officer at her signal and received his orders.

"Jax, ride with me back to the camp. Rick, take over the sentry duty for now. I'll send someone to relieve you as soon as we get back."

"Understood." He nodded.

There was something about Jax that said RoboSoldier was a conscious effort; that somewhere in there were a few shreds of humanity dying to get to the surface. Maybe it was that half-squinted stare, a small window into a mind that never stopped. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't just shoot Dean at one of many opportunities. Maybe it was the way he was contemplating returning that fist to the jaw as he watched Dean manhandle his SIG.

"Nice gun. Trigger feels a little sticky though, might wanna have a look at that."

He said it with his eyes: I know fourteen different ways to kill a man with my bare hands.

Easy, Jax.

His divorce from emotion wasn't exactly clean.

He wordlessly received and reassembled the pistol and returned it to his leg holster. On Jo's signal, he took shotgun in the HMMWV and was back in Afghanistan, him and his JTF2 comrades working the task force with US Spec Ops. Simpler times, then.

"Keep your eye on him. If he gets too snarky, shoot him."

"Understood."

He was dead silent on the ride back to camp, as expected. He occupied himself with watching for threats even though they were heading deeper into friendly territory. Enemies were everywhere. The second you stopped looking for them was when they'd get you.

As they rolled into camp and up to the bar where they usually held meetings, Jax still didn't feel any more at ease.

[Deleted]

Ellen Harvelle

Ellen sighed irritably, raking a hand through her hair as she sat in the back room of Mulligan’s, which was a bar at one time. If there was such a thing as an office in a place like this, the back room of Mulligan’s was Ellen’s makeshift office. A desk sat against the wall in front of the door so that if she turned her head quickly she could see who was walking into the room. There was a shotgun mounted on the wall above her desk for easy access just in case whoever was on the other side of that door wasn’t stopping by for a friendly visit.

Several filing cabinets lined the wall directly across from the door. One of them contained files on everyone who had worked at Mulligan’s and all the payroll records. She hadn’t bothered to clear them out because at the moment she didn’t need the space the files were occupying. The rest of the cabinets contained files on all the residents of the camp – medical records, background checks, contact information, and such. She and Jo kept detailed records on everyone who took up residence at their camp. It was good to know who they were dealing with and to keep tabs on them.

A travel mug of coffee sat on the desk in front of her along with a few notebooks and a medical dictionary. There used to be a computer, but it hadn’t worked, so they’d moved it into one of the storage closets in the General Store. She yawned and took a sip of coffee. She’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, and she still had a lot to deal with. Over the past several weeks a lot of their roads in and out of the area had been blocked or destroyed, which wasn’t sitting well with her. She wasn’t sure who was behind it, but it smelled like the lead up to a trap or an ambush to her.

They were taking extra precautions, putting extra men and women on patrol duty, breaking out heavier weapons, replacing pistols with machine guns and carrying a few different types of ammo. Snipers had set up on the roofs of their tallest buildings, which weren’t very tall. They’d talked about building watch towers up in some of the trees, but the construction hadn’t started yet.

Ellen rubbed the back of her stiff neck and leaned back in her swivel chair. If she could just close her eyes for a few minutes…

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

It pained him to leave behind his wheels, even if they weren't currently running, because his weapons and supplies for what he had in mind were stashed on board and there was no way Jo would allow him to bring them along just yet. Hopefully, they'd tow it to the camp for him rather than leave it out here or worse, strip it for valuables. It had taken him a long time to build up his mobile arsenal, he didn't want to have to go looking for it again.

Like a compliant prisoner, Dean climbed into the back of the truck as directed and sat down, facing Jax. The man who never seemed to blink. Dean stared hard at him, challenging him to break his icy exterior but even that didn't make the guy move.

"Keep your eye on him. If he gets too snarky, shoot him."

Dean frowned at Jo in the front seat, sensing that she was enjoying his predicament a little too much, but snapped his head back to raise an eyebrow at Jax when he answered her.

"Understood."

Now Dean knew the guy was hardcore military, only responding to orders given by a superior officer, or in this case, Commander Harvelle. Dean noted that fact for future use and sat back casually in his uncomfortable seat, keeping his mouth shut and pretending to just enjoy the ride when in actuality he was observing the route into the camp so that he would know it by memory should things not go as expected and he'd have to make a hasty exit.

The closer into headquarters they went, the more Dean realised that this wasn't just a ramshackle group of twitchy trauma survivors, but rather an established settlement trying to rebuild thier lives. This was a town, not just a camp, complete with a general store and a bar.

Figures Ellen would have set up a bar...

Dean smirked a little to himself, wondering if Ellen had changed at all after the apocalypse. She was the kind of woman who took the hits and kept on going. She'd seen it all and done it all before Dean had even met her. Had to have respect for a woman like that, especially one who could drink you under the table any day of the week too.

As they parked up and got out of the trucks, Dean realised just how sore his body was now that it had been given the chance to relax and regroup. He was pretty sure he had whiplash from running his Jeep into the store back in the last town, his shoulders and neck developing the tell tale signs of stiffness and aches. Just another item for the list of things to annoy him today.

"So this is base camp, huh?" He said to no-one in particular, studying the faces of the people on the street who were staring back at the new man in camp. He knew those looks, wary and untrusting like the faces of the people back at Chitaqua. Understandable.

[Jade Stone]

Jo

Jo got out of the vehicle and slammed the door when they arrived in front of the bar called Mulligan's. She waited for Dean to get out and then followed him inside, keeping him in front of her to keep an eye on him. Not that she didn't trust him per se, mainly because this was her place, she wanted to make sure he knew who was in charge around here. Plus, these days... you really didn't know who you could trust, especially if his name was Winchester. Look what had happened to Sam.

Shaking her head she tried to clear her thoughts. She didn't like to think about that. It was easier just to think of Lucifer as Lucifer. Not think of him as Sam... That might have even been what bothered her about Dean now. It should have been HARDER for him. He should care more that it was his brother, but he didn't... or at least he didn't seem to.

Jo took a deep breath and chastised herself for thinking too much. She knew better. Pushing her feelings back down she recovered her impassive demeanor. In her own way she was just as broken as Dean probably was.

Worrying about people's feelings aren't going to help now... It just gets you or people around you killed.

As they moved into the bar there were a few people about, but not many. Mostly people either coming off guard duty or getting ready to go on guard duty. Some were there working on plans for missions or how to fortify the camp. They were always working on ways to make the camp more secure. Jo turned and looked at Jax.

"Jax, would you go get my mother. Then come join us. I want you in on this."

Jo waited a minute in case Jax had any questions. Then watched as he went back to the office where her mother was most likely deeply engrossed in fretting and worrying. Which wasn't unusual really, her mother seemed to be the one person she knew who was least changed by the situation. Sighing she finally gave Dean a look and pointed to a table.

"Sit down. I'll get the first aid kit and take care of your injuries."

Going behind the bar Jo rummaged around for the first aid supplies. Finding the rather large box she grabbed that along with a full bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey.

Returning to the table she sat down next to Dean. She opened the bottle of whiskey and took a long drink first before she scooted it across the table for Dean if he wanted some. Then she set about opening the first aid box. Going through and finding the things she was going to need. Glancing up at Dean she smirked.

"Are you going to take the jacket off or do you want me to just cut the sleeve off?"

[Deleted]

The sign said Mulligan’s, but to Jax it was Command Central. He stepped out of the vehicle once it came to a halt and surveyed the area. Satisfied that nobody was watching him at that particular moment, he winced and massaged his aching jaw. The break in his exterior was short lived. Seconds later he was back in it, Mr. Terminator, all cold efficiency and protocol.

He entered the building with the others, his steel toes making heavy thuds on the floor. Part of him longed for a drink; the other part refused to do things any way but clear-headed.

You want to earn your fuckin' redemption, Gallows? Then you get to experience every sober second of it.

He made a low noise that he masked with a cough.

"Jax, would you go get my mother. Then come join us. I want you in on this."

Grateful for the interruption from his thoughts, he nodded once and proceeded to the back room of the bar. His equipment jingled with each step and the sound made him think of a cowboy out of some old Leone flick, complete with Morricone’s brass in the background. Jax didn’t have the swagger to be a cowboy – at least, not anymore.

He stopped in front of Ellen’s office and lightly rapped his knuckles against the door.

“Ma’am? It’s Jax.” There was a split second hesitation where he almost announced himself as ‘Corporal Gallows’. He paused for a response and cleared his throat.

“Your daughter would like to speak with you out here.”

He waited for Ellen to step out, fought back the instinct to salute, then headed over to the table where Jo and Dean sat.

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

Oh yeah, Jo was making a point alright, pushing Dean to lead into the bar so she could keep an eye on him, giving orders to her guard dog to fetch Ellen and then join them in their conversation. Everything that was happening was being carefully planned to show Dean he didn't have control here and that Harvelle rules applied. She probably expected him to waltz in here and start dictating what would happen and she'd be completely right too.

"Look, I get that you trust that guy," Dean said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction Jax had disappeared.

"He seems....commited, but I don't know him from Adam and I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him, which probably isn't that far, the guy's made of solid muscle. He's not sitting in on this, it's too important to be broadcasting to your whole camp."

Jo appeared not to have heard his arguement as she wandered off to collect a large box from behind the bar, either that or she was just dismissing his demands. Instead she gestured to a seat next to the small table she'd put the liquor bottle down on and for a moment, Dean was distracted wondering where on earth Jo had managed to find a decent bottle of whiskey in the midst of an apocalypse.

"Are you going to take the jacket off or do you want me to just cut the sleeve off?"

Snapping out of that thought, Dean frowned over at Jo, slightly irritated that she was still ordering him around.

"You're not cutting anything off and you don't need to go all Florence Nightingale on me, I'm fine." He insisted, stubbornly remaining on his feet.

"It's just a scratch, I've had worse and I don't have time for you to butcher me like you did the last time."

Many years ago now, Dean had been subject to Jo's surgical skills when a possessed Sam had shot him in the shoulder and left him for dead. She might as well have been using a shovel to dig out the bullet for all the delicacy she managed to muster. He wasn't exactly in a hurry to relive the experience. However, he grudgingly had to admit that something needed to be done with his arm. If he left it to fester, then chances were good that it would get infected and then he'd really have to let someone poke around in it.

With no immediate sign that Ellen was coming back, he sighed to himself and finally relented to sitting down, nudging the seat out with his foot because his hand was already reaching out for the Jack.

"Gimme the damn box, I'll do it myself. And I'm soaking the jacket off. This is the only one I have, I'd kinda like to keep the sleeves attached."

[Deleted]

Ellen Harvelle

Ellen sat in her desk chair with her eyes closed, her head drooping against her chest. She didn’t dream. Not anymore. When you only slept for a few hours at a time, your mind didn’t have time for dreams.

On the rare occasion she got a full night’s sleep, she had nightmares.

Her head snapped up and she was on her feet before the knocking on the door had finished. Her hand went first to her belt, but there was no pistol holstered there. She was reaching for the shotgun above her desk when a familiar voice stopped her arm mid-way. She recognized Jax Gallows’ clipped, gruff voice. Matter-of-fact. Commanding.

“Ma’am? It’s Jax.”

Ellen sighed, her muscles relaxing. She rubbed her eyes, trying to force her vision to clear.

Jax continued as Ellen took a long sip of her coffee before crossing to her office door.

“Your daughter would like to speak with you out here.”

Right. Jo had been out on a supply run. A pang of anxiety struck her. She hoped to hell nothing had gone wrong. They didn’t need anymore problems.

She pulled open the door with an effort. The damn thing had a habit of sticking when the air was damp. Or dry.

Ellen nodded a greeting to Jax.

“Jax.”

He was a good soldier. Calm. Efficient. Well trained. He’d been a hard one to read when he first got there. Had a better poker face than anyone she knew. But he was cold. There was a hardness about him that didn’t sit well with her. Being that calculating, that detached, at his age said more about him than he probably knew. But she trusted him. He was loyal to the camp, and to her and Jo.

Ellen closed the door as Jax started to walk back to the main part of Mulligan’s. She froze mid-step when she heard a familiar voice. It had been a while since she’d heard it – might as well have been the voice of a ghost – but she would have recognized it anywhere.

“Gimme that damn box, I’ll do it myself. And I’m soaking the jacket off. This is the only one I have, I’d kinda like to keep the sleeves attached.”

Ellen’s feet carried her across the floor as he spoke. Her voice sounded more tired than she’d expected. Hoarse and worn out.

“Dean Winchester.”

She glanced at Jo as she approached the table before looking back to Dean. It had been years since they’d seen or even heard from him. The relief Ellen had felt at hearing his voice was quickly giving way to anger. She folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a hard stare.

“I expected the next time I’d be seein’ you’d be on a funeral pyre.”

She tilted her head, noting the bullet wound in his arm.

“Bullet wound’s not much better.”

She sighed. This was just like him. Stay out of touch long enough for her to start thinking he might be dead, then stroll in beat to hell.

Some things never changed.

[Jade Stone]

Jo

Jo closed her eyes, took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead. Rolling her tongue around inside her mouth she sucked on her teeth for a second and let her breath out in a huff of a sigh. She was not going to let him push her buttons.

Opening her eyes again she tossed the supplies she had in her hands back into the box, then pushed the whole thing away from herself toward the center of the table.

"Fine, do it yourself. You big baby. Good luck with that. Don't cry to me if you end up with gangrene and we have to cut off more than your sleeve... But... THIS is mine."

Jo snatched up the bottle of Jack Daniels and took another long drink. Feeling the familiar burn as is ran down her throat. She looked up to see Jax coming back to the table, her mother not far behind him. Shaking her head she could see Jax was waiting... ever the soldier he was.

"Have a seat Jax. You want a drink?"

She held the bottle out in offering to him. Then her mother approached the table. Jo glanced up and gave her a slight nod. Just an indication that she was all right, she knew they'd have to talk later. A mission debrief to discuss, not to mention the unexpected guest they now had.

Jo watched as her mother exchanged words with Dean. Ellen's reaction to seeing Dean was a similar one to what her daughter had. Though Ellen didn't seem as outwardly hostile toward him as Jo was. Giving her mother another look she spoke quietly in a terse manner.

"Dean apparently has something important to tell us. Since otherwise, he wouldn't have brothered coming in to contact with us."

Jo tilted her head from side to side for a moment, then rolled her head around on her neck to stretch the muscles, relieving some tension and feeling the bones crackle and pop. The statement was also a reminder to herself that it must have been important or he wouldn't be here at all. It still didn't keep the thought from entering her mind that if she had her way, she would have just left him where she had found him.

Growling a bit to herself she grabbed the whiskey bottle again and knocked back another drink. Hoping he would say what he needed to say and they could get on with things.

[Deleted]

“Jax.”

“Ma’am,” Jax replied, like the manners were coded into his very Canadian DNA. It was a trait that often threw a lot of people off, but he maintained that the apocalypse was no excuse to not be polite.

Jax had a great deal of respect for Ellen and Jo, and it was patently obvious by the way he spoke and acted around them. He followed their orders because he believed those orders were right; because he trusted their judgement. They reminded him of some of the better officers and NCOs he'd served with in Bosnia and Afghanistan.

There was also the little fact that he would be quite dead were it not for being let into their camp, but that went without saying…

He approached the table with that too-perfect soldier’s posture and unchanging, neutral expression on his face. Every muscle was tight and his mind was constantly on high alert. He never relaxed, at least not that anyone ever really saw, so his politely declining Jo’s offer wasn’t unexpected.

"Have a seat Jax. You want a drink?"

“No, thank you,” he said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He set his rifle down beside him, stock on the floor, leaning up against his chair. He gave Dean a nod as if they hadn’t been ready to kill each other a short while ago, then sat back as Ellen and Jo talked.

He had nothing to say; it seemed the other three had some catching up to do. Jax waited quietly to hear what the 'something important' was.

He assumed it would involve shooting something.

He kind of hoped it would involve shooting something…

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

"Fine." Dean growled at Jo through gritted teeth when she snagged her whiskey back and shoved the first aid kit in his direction instead. Barely back together for half an hour and they were already bickering like an old married couple. Sometimes Dean didn't know whether to strangle her or hug her. For now he settled on scowling at her across the table as he flipped open the box and began picking through it to see what he'd need.

“Dean Winchester.”

There were a handful of voices from Dean's past that he would know blindfolded anywhere and Ellen's was near the top of the list. It held that kind of resonance that made it sexy, yet authorative and once over, Dean had even imagined how it might sound on a younger version of the same woman. In her prime, Dean probably would have tapped that. Hell, Ellen still looked good at her age - whatever that was (no way on earth Dean was about to ask her) - but he suspected that any man fool enough to think he could charm the pants of her would end up with their nuts in a sling. It was easy to see where Jo got her fiery attitude from when she and Ellen were in the same room.

“I expected the next time I’d be seein’ you’d be on a funeral pyre.”

Dean shifted around in his seat and then stood up to greet Ellen, unconciously showing her respect in body language if not in words.

"Sorry to dissapoint you." He shrugged, half wondering if she was going to smack him, hug him or go straight for the shotgun.

“Bullet wound’s not much better.”

"Well I always like to get a souvenir from every new place I go to. Your friendly neighbourhood Croats in the town over weren't very welcoming, what can I say?"

"Dean apparently has something important to tell us. Since otherwise, he wouldn't have brothered coming in to contact with us."

There was no way Jo was going to let go of the fact that he'd dropped off the radar given her snide remarks, so Dean chose to bring it all out into the open to get it over and done with. That way they could clear the air and get down to business.

"I've been a little busy lately, sorry I didn't send you a postcard Jo. You got something you want to say to me, then don't hold back on my account. I've only been trying to save the planet, but you're right, I should've put that on hold to come over for a beer and a catch up."

[Jade Stone]

Jo

Jo was taking another swig from the whiskey bottle when Dean's voice came across the table and she nearly choked on the mouthful of she had taken, but managed to swallow it down.

"I've been a little busy lately, sorry I didn't send you a postcard Jo. You got something you want to say to me, then don't hold back on my account. I've only been trying to save the planet, but you're right, I should've put that on hold to come over for a beer and a catch up."

Everything happened quickly after that. Her jaw was clenched tight and her eyes flew open wide, the sentiment of 'eyes being able to shoot daggers' at someone was never more appropriate than right then as the anger flared up inside.

Before she even knew what she was doing Jo was scrambling around the table, practically climbing over it at the same time. Her hands were balled up into fists and they were flying. Throwing punches at Dean left and right while she started to yell at him simultaneously.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? YOU SELF RIGHTEOUS BASTARD!"

Jo was all over him now. Still trying to punch him, but ended up throwing all of her body weight at him in a full on tackle.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK WE ARE DOING? SITTING OVER HERE ON OUR ASSES, ENJOYING OURSELVES, HAVING A PARTY?"

Now she was so angry she couldn't even see straight or comprehend what she was really doing. She kept flailing at him. Throwing her fists at him, kicking out with her feet. She was out of control with rage.

"YOU NEVER ONCE THOUGHT THAT IT MIGHT BE HELPFUL TO LET US KNOW WHAT YOU WERE UP TO. MAYBE IT WOULD BE A GOOD THING FOR US TO ALL WORK TOGETHER, INSTEAD OF DEAN WINCHESTER OUT THERE PLAYING HERO ON HIS OWN?"

Jo could hardly breathe now. Trying to take in deep gulping breaths as she kept up her attack.

"YOU ARE ONE..."

Punch.

"SORRY..."

Punch.

"SELFISH..."

Kick.

"SON..."

Punch.

"OF..."

Punch.

"A..."

Punch.

"BITCH!"

Jo reared back and sent another massive side kick flying at Dean to punctuate the word. Everything else going on around her was foggy, she was so focused on what she was doing, on the anger and frustration she was feeling.