Faith and Binds

February 08, 2016:

Jean and Logan go for a ride..


NPCs: Some guy tied up



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Logan left Jean a long, bubbly message talking about absolutely nothing— except for a shopping area in Williamsburg, which is mentioned no fewer than five times in gushingly effusive terms. About half a dozen dollar sign and diamond emojis scrammed in there; it is, for all the world, a shopping invitation from a gal pal as filtered through the cynical and inconsistently lazy lens of a cranky centenarian.

Should she accept the invitation, she'll find the area - The Larsen Lofts, a stretch of pavement lined with connected artisinal shops - devoid of hairy Canadians until a few moments after their scheduled meeting, at which point—

— 'Fancy' as interpreted by car horns plays, because whoever actually owns the Prius that Logan's pulling up in is a monster of some kind.

Dressed in a leather jacket with a cabbie hat pulled down over his head, he reaches across the car to open up the passenger side door while approaching the redhead.

LOGNOTE: *emojis were crammed in there

When you paint your nails, you have to have a steady hand and no interruptions if you want to make it flawless. And that was Jean, locked in a moment of silence and concentration as she lines the red polish along her thumb, her eyes nearly crossing at how close she's looking at her fingers, tongue poked out the side of her lip as her nose wrinkles once the brush passes the tip of her long nail. Phew. Dip. And again. She starts from the bottom, creating a perfect line towards the cuticle until the..


..plays across her phone that starts off the tunes of Dethklok which was specially picked out for Logan. She jerks, tugging and pulling the brush along her thumb and along the pad of it, Jean throwing the top of the nail polish down onto the bed with a swear and a pop into her mouth and another swear and..

"Huh.." That was new. But it didn't take long for her to shower, dress, and meet at the aformentioned place five minutes earlier than when Logan said to arrive. Thankfully, there was enough time in there to fix her thumb.

As he rolls up in the Prius, green eyes widen with a little bit of shock, a grin cracked off, finally laughing a good and hearty laugh, approaching him with bounced steps and arms around the shoulders to halt his pace and hug just because. "Good lord Logan.." Is all she could say. It was a far cry from the bloodied and smelly mess she had seen him in before in her office. After the hug was delivered, she promptly enters into the car, settling in the passenger seat, buckling her self in because safety first, waiting for the door to close so she could inspect the car to make sure it wasn't stolen. Though what is the point, it probably was.

Jean can make out wires dangling from the steering column in a larcenous tangle pretty much immediately, if she's looking.

"Can't be too careful these days," he evenly says while driving off. The laughter provoked no reaction; the hug brought momentary stiffness followed by an arm crossing her back while it lasted. He still has her in the corner of his eye as he pulls into traffic and he's trying to keep his grin from growing too large.

"Workin' on having the numbers we pulled from Deacon Asshole run; still waitin' to hear back from some friends of mine, though." Some blankets piled up on the floor of the backseat rustles towards the end, which pretty much kills the grinning.

"How're you doing?" he continues. The question is punctuated with a pointed glance between the seats before he tacks, "Generally speakin'," on.

The blankets mumble— something.

So it was stolen! Okay! Jean was suddenly very happy that she's retained the services of Nelson and Murdock right within that instant. She says nothing, settling into the seats of the prius as she glances out the window, chewing upon the side of her lip as she gives a faint nod. "Which means the job that Betsy did on him worked." Jean confirms, hearing the rustle but.. god. Don't look back. The question of how she was doing takes precedence, it allows her to focus on something else.

"Good, for the most part." Her bruises have healed, which was a good thing. She didn't want to scare the children into thinking she was being domestically abused. "We're setting up a Take Back the Night rally to rid Mutant Town of their guns. Seems like a few businesses are starting to support Mutant Town after all that's happened to the place." She smiles then, turning towards him to rest her head against the headrest. "How are you?"

The blankets.. they talked, which draws a slight incredulous look from Jean. "Logan…" Beat. "Tell me you bought me a puppy. A Siberian Husky that I could cuddle and watch television with and not a man or a woman that you have tied up in the back seat.."

"Wish I could, Jeannie," murmurs Logan in reply. Now he's fully focused on the road. "Thought the Deacon could use a change of scenery." Might as well rip the band-aid off, since there's no getting around it, really.

"Sounds— hopeful, though, that rally'a yours," he says after a couple silent beats spent tightly gripping the wheel. "When's the rally to deal with everyone else's guns?"

He tries to phrase it earnestly, conversationally— but the cynicism is right there under the surface.

"I'm the same as ever. Gettin' to know my new pal D.A.; waitin' for this Arlington shindig. Started lettin' him exercise some; almost feels like we're comin' to understand each other," he then mutters, dryly.

The blankets mumble a quiet protest of some kind.

Jean's heart sinks just a little as she stares forward, her teeth gritting just a touch as she finally lets out a little sigh. It was common practice to move houses when you're technically on the run, which she really couldn't argue with in the slightest.

"That'll come in time." Jean finally says, her tone even, not trying to display the hurt that shown through with that comment. She grimaces just a touch, then shakes her head, her arm hitched up upon the spot against the window, fingers curling to rest her temple upon it. His words and the grunts of protests cause her to cast a sharp look towards Logan. "You're not beating him, are you? And you're feeding him, right?" She had to ask.

"Logan.. just promise me after all of this is over, you're going to come back home."

Bristling, Logan visibly clenches his jaw in the moment before he replies, "No, and yes. I might've slapped him around some early on, when he had intel, but at this point? I'm just waitin' to be rid of him," in a low, flattened voice.

He doesn't speak for a while after that. When they roll up to a light that goes red just when it's their turn to pass, the frustrated rumble that comes out is amplified a few times over.

Of course she had to ask.

"I want to," he softly, shamefully appends once they're moving again. After a moment, he adds, "Come home. Beat 'im," once he catches the ambiguity, sadness leaking into his voice. After huffing out a brisk sigh and shaking his head, he manages to pick his flatten his tone back out as he glances her way and says, "'This' has been for years, darlin'— decades. Shit, longer: people are real fuckin' bad at knowin' what a person is, sometimes. Makes it reaaaal easy to do whatever they feel like to 'em…"

Another sigh as he rubs his face, looking away from her.

"How'm I supposed to lay my head down in a house, knowin' that it could burn down at any minute— an' not be on the hunt for fire hazards?"

"As long as the plan is sti—.." Jean stops, glancing down towards her chest, her hand soon lifting to press against it as she scowls. That scowl drops soon after, her eyes flitting towards him, trying her best to blot out the noise within that personal feed as she lifts her shoulders, then drops them forcefully with a grit of teeth.

"I know that." She finally says with a breath of air, her hand reaching out to snake her fingers to his, curling against the wheel to pry the knuckled grip to draw into her lap, which is soon covered with her own. There was an obvious fondness there, a lick of affection, maybe something of a yearning to be the one to take away all of the hurt, the sorrow, the anger and anguish.. People like him needed saving too.

"Just.. just have a little faith in me. In us." Is all she could say. He was right. And it hurt to hear. "I.." She just shakes her head, feeling the burn already within the back of her eyes, a gaze that was soon diverted out of the window to stare as moving life passes them by.

Logan's hand is hard and rough and offers very little resistance when pulled— though the gesture does draw a momentarily bemused glance before his eyes fix forward again.

"You'd never see me again if I didn't," he quietly offers. His hand tightens around hers, just a little, like a tomato he's afraid of crushing. "What you want, what you're tryin' to do… you can't compromise it, you got a philosophy ta share. Principles ta live by. Beliefs that need upholdin'; shit you can't. Compromise."

Logan tenses up as he looks her way again, grimacing as he concludes, "An' that'll get you a helluva a long way, but those times when it ain't enough? When you get the ones you can't teach? End'a the day, you got more to lose in dealin' with that than I do," in a soft, weary voice.

"Part'a havin' faith in something is being willin' to fight for it— ain't it?"

The blanket is strangely silent on this matter.

Even if he didn't grasp her hand hard, she does it for the both of them. Holding his hand in a vice grip that she knows won't break, just because she knows she could, and needed to. "It's been compormised by others many times over Logan, yourself included though." She mildly protest. She doesn't say a word though, her eyes closing faintly to bite back the tears, a silent promise that she wouldn't cry anymore but she couldn't help it. That vulnerability comes in spades even though a captive was held in the backseat of the prius.

"Don't you think you're worth it, though? Worth risking everything for. Worth fighting for." She draws in a breath, then slowly exhales, knowing damn well he was right but just utterly refuses to listen. Because she didn't want to, really.

"Just. I'm not going to give up Logan." Is all she says for now, allowing the stillness to rise within the air as they reach another stop light, her hand lifting his briefly which is soon pressed to where her heart beats, then lifted to press a light kiss against his thumb.

"I have faith in you." And she'd go down swinging.

((Part 1))

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