[ frank's life goes on pretty much as usual. the cold has shut down work almost completely, but he fills the gaps with the liebermans and elektra. and her new dog, more to the point. he thinks of jess often, but doesn't call or stop by though it's all he can do not to some days. instead he turns to his routine, he works out too much he eats too little and everything else is really just a time killer.
the orchids he bought for elektra's visit still sit in his vase, though they're starting to wither. there are dishes in his sink like he's been cooking for more than one. but everything else is exactly the same as she'll remember, down to the hidden picture of his family that frank knows she knows is there.
he had only just nodded off properly when the knock at the door startles him. his whole body tenses like he's taking fire, blinking panic and sleep out of his eyes as he slowly comes back to reality. he checks his phone for the time even while getting up to put pants on, realizing who it must be the second he does. the bars just let out too so he can guess at the state she'll be in.
steeling himself, he makes his way to the door in only his jeans, racking his brain for what the right thing to do here is. as usual, he's drawing blanks. the door opens swiftly to reveal him, and his eyes soften with palpable relief to see her there, standing in his doorway. swaying, actually. in the interest of expediency and not freezing his balls off, frank takes gentle hold of her free arm and tugs her inside the warm(ish) apartment. maria definitely never showed up like this, so it's easy to only think about her. though truthfully in this moment, he would be even if he had the comparison to draw. ]
[ shoulders furled in and nose ducked into her scarf, the wind picking up has forced her to huddle against it. it glances right off her jacket but seeps through her jeans and her cheap gloves, and over the snowy gusts, she can't hear his sneaky ass stir. the light is off so he is either asleep or out and to her knowledge, he doesn't have anywhere to go. her shifting from foot to foot to keep warm turns into a tired, drunken sway before he finally opens up and she's just as quickly yanked inside. ]
Whoa, hey. [ she shakes him off without being certain of her footing but manages to face him with relative composure. if relative is hair strewn all over her face that's gone pink from walking headlong into the gathering bluster to get there. (it is.) ] Just pretend I'm not here, okay?
[ he lets go the second she's safe and shuts then locks the door behind her. ] Kind of impossible. [ a soft admittance, but they both know he'd do whatever she asked... maybe that's part of their problem. frank crosses his arms so he isn't tempted to reach out for her. nothing in his expression would suggest he's judging her -- because he isn't. ]
It's good to see you. [ even if she's only here because she's wasted. she's always wasted in some capacity, so it might be moot. he gnaws on the inside of his lip and tries to resist the urge to get her water and food and all the other ways he desperately wants to care for her right now. ]
I know. [ he'll live on scraps, seeing as that's what she gives him. She's definitely done hoarding the brunt of that responsibility. he likes it vicious so no wonder her handful of half-hearted attempts to warn him off universally backfired. Jess sighs, stepping towards the wall and meeting it first with her hand, then her shoulder, then her back. she slides down to the floor with a soft thump and lets her legs fall straight in front of her. setting her bottle on the ground, she cups her hands together, tucking her fingertips between her palms to warm them up. ]
[ he frowns as he watches her slide down the wall, wondering what she's responding to even. probably his general patheticness. whatever, he owns it. ]
Do you wanna lie down? There's a couch and a bed, take your pick. [ and he'll take the other, is the heavy-handed implication. she has to know she's probably safer here than anywhere else. he wants to believe that's why she came. that and no one else would ever find her. he wonders too who might be looking. ]
Edited (i always fuck that one up ) 2018-01-14 06:05 (UTC)
[ yes. but if she shuts her eyes, the room somehow spins more wildly than when she's actually looking at it and disturbing the liquid contents of her stomach is sure to send them back up. it's best to stay upright for now. with a temporary handle on the room's orientation, she looks over to him, from his knees at her eye level and then up to his goddamn open book of a face. oh right, she's putting him out. ]
"Not tired anymore. Gonna make coffee." He can't stare at her anymore without feeling some type of way, so he stops at his box of clothes that he really should fucking get drawers for or something and pulls on a shirt before wandering into the kitchen to do what he said.
Edited (oops i surprosed u ) 2018-01-14 06:57 (UTC)
[ coffee sounds fucking great. asshole. Jess leans her head against the wall and keeps her eyes on the spot he was standing, watching thoughts partially form, disperse, and their remnants do the same. or those are the usual spots and blurs in her vision that she's accustomed to ignoring 99% of the time. yeah, it's too pretty a distraction to be the former.
once her fingertips are no warmer than the rest of her hands, she peels off her gloves and vigorously rubs them together. it's dull and dizzying to watch and her gaze wanders over to his bed. unmade, it reminds her he was tucked into it a minute ago. it's a piece of crap, one step up from a cot, and it looks nefariously inviting with the blanket thrown back. Jess grabs her liquor by the neck and drowns the urge to go and rest her head on it. ]
[ he puts the coffee on expediently and starts poking through his fridge for leftovers. whenever she's with it enough to notice, there's also a tin bowl of water on the floor in here. frank leans against his counter and stares as a single orchid petal detaches itself from a flower and floats to his table top. elektra's words seem especially relevant now. it doesn't matter as long as you're together. this couldn't have been what she meant. could it?
frank stays that way until there's enough liquid in the carafe for both of them. here goes nothing. he pours them each a cup, hers is little more than half full and her cup says Alaska on the front with a happy doodle of a penguin. all but forcing himself back into the room, he moves to sit by (but not close to) her on the floor and hands it over. ]
[ she makes a game of guessing what he's doing depending on the sounds that come from the kitchen. in the long pause where it's only the drip of water filtering through the grounds, she works her jacket off without ever fully sitting up. the friction from her inelegant wiggling crams her scarf full of static that crackles when she pulls it free of her hair. by the time they're in a pile beside her, she feels more heated from the struggle than the room. hairs are still adhering to her fingers with mild electricity as she swipes them from her cheeks and mouth. ]
Decaf? [ she asks instead of thanking him, grateful as she is. really more grateful than a cup of coffee should make her feel but the coffee's all she's capable of looking at right this second, so it's the coffee's fault. for how much she missed the coffee. ]
No. [ he leans his head back against the wall and watches her, feeling like it's through binaculars instead of a foot in front of him. he sets his cup on his knee as he waits for it to cool down a little. he feels pleasantly drowsy now that he isn't asleep, but he's definitely not risking another dream with her around so awake it is. ]
[ she was kidding, or maybe she wasn't. she ventures a glance at his window but can't suss shit from the deep grey of snow plummeting through smog. it's night, that's for sure, the same one as the last time she checked, and that's not nothing. ]
What time is it? [ Jess finds the handle of the mug and slips her fingers through, covering the top with her other hand so the steam beats against her palm. ]
[ he left his phone plugged in and he hadn't bothered to internalize the numbers on his ancient coffee maker so he hazards a guess. ] 400-ish. [ maybe 4:15, 4:30. something like that. he decides to just come out and ask: ] Is someone looking for you?
[ she cringes gently, not at the data but at his delivery of it. at least there wasn't an "oh" in front of it. ]
What? [ she heard and understood him perfectly. it's a stalling tactic to get her words in order, try and prevent them from skidding into each other ] No. Fighting with my sister.
[ who shouldn't be driving home in this weather anyway so now Jess is starting to hope she is there, as obnoxious and overbearing as it would be. ]
[ he knows she understood so he waits her out. he's learning about so many family connections lately!!! ] Didn't know you had a sister.
[ not like that matters right now, but he's just saying. there's an edge of tired bemusement to the words. frank has the same thought about the weather, honestly, but he's mostly just relieved it's not someone he should be worried about. ]
[ how did he not know that? what a shit P.I. he'd make. she can almost work up something like a smile over it. thankfully, he takes care of that with his next comment. he's right, jagoff. Trish is probably asleep but there's every chance she's not, considering the hell Jess had to put her through when she went missing. reluctantly, Jess digs around in her jacket until she hits upon the right pocket, then retrieves her phone and tosses it the short distance to him. ]
You do it. [ her head lolls his way. ] Don't say who it is. I don't need you two talking to each other.
[ every time he tried to make progress on getting to know her through the internet... like people apparently do these days, he'd shut himself down. it felt like prying, even if she was as near to a public figure as himself. it should be ironic, that stalking her isn't, but hey. whatever.
when she starts digging around for her phone, he puts his coffee cup down. he's glad he does when a second later it's being thrown at him. all the recent messages are from trish, and only then do the pieces fit. trish, on the radio. he had seen them together once, extremely briefly when he'd followed her those couple of weeks. frank opens up their text conversation and overrides his human instinct to snoop. he sends something suitably snarky but also hopefully reassuring so trish doesn't think anyone has commandeered her phone.
he sets it down between them on the floor and picks up his coffee to take his first sip. it tastes better than it ought to. ] There's food, if you want some.
[ Jess didn't intend it as a test when she saddled him with the task but of course he passed. she turns the phone towards her, gives up on reading the messages without adjusting the brightness (too much work) and turns it off with a simple button press, then leaves it on the floor. ]
You got real food? [ she won't trust anything to stay down, even this coffee, so she's not asking for herself. ]
[ that gets a smile. tiny, but genuine. he takes another sip before tipping his temple back against the wall, holding his apparently favored indiania hoosiers mug with a chip in the top with a vice grip. ]
I've been cooking. [ he likes cooking, which is part of why he'd deprived himself of it before. the other issue was never having someone to cook for, at least until he realized there was one person he could count on to show up at meal time. and he doesn't just mean elektra's dog.
he's figured out that she's too far gone to want anything, and he would never expect her to ask for it even if she did. so frank settles there for the moment, content to stay here indefinitely. ]
[ he could be doing it for himself but she suspects he's doing it for company too. no point in asking who; if she wanted to know, she could have found out by now. ]
What do you cook. [ usually, she would count survivalist crap like canned beans and just-add-water rations but now that she knows how terrible they can be, and that he'll eat them anyway, she's raised the standard a skosh. ]
Lots of things. What do you like to eat? [ he turns it on her just because, fixing that barely-there smile on her. but he's relenting soon enough if only because he always does. ] I made Kabuli palaw earlier, it's in the fridge.
[ she scoffs at his brag even though he backs it up with a dish she's never heard of. doesn't sound particularly fancy, either, but it's a serious leap from boiled chunks of pasta in an aluminum sleeve. fucking show-off. he can cook for her over her dead body. ]
God, screw you. [ she's inspired to elaborate but the coffee gives her something else to do with her mouth, blowing steam from it and venturing a sip ]
[ it's a trip to the grocery store or, god forbid, farmers market and she does most of her shopping at the corner store. and then there's cooking, who has time for that. Trish. Malcolm. and now him. it's like some kinda conspiracy.
Jess finally notices the space he left for her liquor when it takes a moment to reach her lips. she sets it back down without having any and reaches for her bottle ]
Maybe. [ he isn't and it's clear by his tone (and the lack of anything even vaguely booze shaped in this place. other than the stuff she brought.) hair of the dog seems like exactly what she needs right now so he says nothing when she utilizes his considerate gap for liquor. ] Less fun without you, though.
[ he's obviously not talking about getting wasted anymore, and it rings a little too true to be a dig. he really is such an asshole. ]
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the orchids he bought for elektra's visit still sit in his vase, though they're starting to wither. there are dishes in his sink like he's been cooking for more than one. but everything else is exactly the same as she'll remember, down to the hidden picture of his family that frank knows she knows is there.
he had only just nodded off properly when the knock at the door startles him. his whole body tenses like he's taking fire, blinking panic and sleep out of his eyes as he slowly comes back to reality. he checks his phone for the time even while getting up to put pants on, realizing who it must be the second he does. the bars just let out too so he can guess at the state she'll be in.
steeling himself, he makes his way to the door in only his jeans, racking his brain for what the right thing to do here is. as usual, he's drawing blanks. the door opens swiftly to reveal him, and his eyes soften with palpable relief to see her there, standing in his doorway. swaying, actually. in the interest of expediency and not freezing his balls off, frank takes gentle hold of her free arm and tugs her inside the warm(ish) apartment. maria definitely never showed up like this, so it's easy to only think about her. though truthfully in this moment, he would be even if he had the comparison to draw. ]
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Whoa, hey. [ she shakes him off without being certain of her footing but manages to face him with relative composure. if relative is hair strewn all over her face that's gone pink from walking headlong into the gathering bluster to get there. (it is.) ] Just pretend I'm not here, okay?
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It's good to see you. [ even if she's only here because she's wasted. she's always wasted in some capacity, so it might be moot. he gnaws on the inside of his lip and tries to resist the urge to get her water and food and all the other ways he desperately wants to care for her right now. ]
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Do you wanna lie down? There's a couch and a bed, take your pick. [ and he'll take the other, is the heavy-handed implication. she has to know she's probably safer here than anywhere else. he wants to believe that's why she came. that and no one else would ever find her. he wonders too who might be looking. ]
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[ yes. but if she shuts her eyes, the room somehow spins more wildly than when she's actually looking at it and disturbing the liquid contents of her stomach is sure to send them back up. it's best to stay upright for now. with a temporary handle on the room's orientation, she looks over to him, from his knees at her eye level and then up to his goddamn open book of a face. oh right, she's putting him out. ]
Go back to sled-- to bed. Take the bed.
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once her fingertips are no warmer than the rest of her hands, she peels off her gloves and vigorously rubs them together. it's dull and dizzying to watch and her gaze wanders over to his bed. unmade, it reminds her he was tucked into it a minute ago. it's a piece of crap, one step up from a cot, and it looks nefariously inviting with the blanket thrown back. Jess grabs her liquor by the neck and drowns the urge to go and rest her head on it. ]
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frank stays that way until there's enough liquid in the carafe for both of them. here goes nothing. he pours them each a cup, hers is little more than half full and her cup says Alaska on the front with a happy doodle of a penguin. all but forcing himself back into the room, he moves to sit by (but not close to) her on the floor and hands it over. ]
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Decaf? [ she asks instead of thanking him, grateful as she is. really more grateful than a cup of coffee should make her feel but the coffee's all she's capable of looking at right this second, so it's the coffee's fault. for how much she missed the coffee. ]
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What time is it? [ Jess finds the handle of the mug and slips her fingers through, covering the top with her other hand so the steam beats against her palm. ]
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What? [ she heard and understood him perfectly. it's a stalling tactic to get her words in order, try and prevent them from skidding into each other ] No. Fighting with my sister.
[ who shouldn't be driving home in this weather anyway so now Jess is starting to hope she is there, as obnoxious and overbearing as it would be. ]
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[ not like that matters right now, but he's just saying. there's an edge of tired bemusement to the words. frank has the same thought about the weather, honestly, but he's mostly just relieved it's not someone he should be worried about. ]
You should tell her you're safe.
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You do it. [ her head lolls his way. ] Don't say who it is. I don't need you two talking to each other.
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when she starts digging around for her phone, he puts his coffee cup down. he's glad he does when a second later it's being thrown at him. all the recent messages are from trish, and only then do the pieces fit. trish, on the radio. he had seen them together once, extremely briefly when he'd followed her those couple of weeks. frank opens up their text conversation and overrides his human instinct to snoop. he sends something suitably snarky but also hopefully reassuring so trish doesn't think anyone has commandeered her phone.
he sets it down between them on the floor and picks up his coffee to take his first sip. it tastes better than it ought to. ] There's food, if you want some.
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You got real food? [ she won't trust anything to stay down, even this coffee, so she's not asking for herself. ]
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I've been cooking. [ he likes cooking, which is part of why he'd deprived himself of it before. the other issue was never having someone to cook for, at least until he realized there was one person he could count on to show up at meal time. and he doesn't just mean elektra's dog.
he's figured out that she's too far gone to want anything, and he would never expect her to ask for it even if she did. so frank settles there for the moment, content to stay here indefinitely. ]
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What do you cook. [ usually, she would count survivalist crap like canned beans and just-add-water rations but now that she knows how terrible they can be, and that he'll eat them anyway, she's raised the standard a skosh. ]
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God, screw you. [ she's inspired to elaborate but the coffee gives her something else to do with her mouth, blowing steam from it and venturing a sip ]
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It's rice and lamb with raisins and carrots. Good hangover food. [ technically it's already cooked so he didn't cook it for her!!!!! god. ]
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Jess finally notices the space he left for her liquor when it takes a moment to reach her lips. she sets it back down without having any and reaches for her bottle ]
Yeah? Been getting drunk without me?
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[ he's obviously not talking about getting wasted anymore, and it rings a little too true to be a dig. he really is such an asshole. ]
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are you ready to take this to turbo cute because it's boyfriend shirt time
um HALE YEA who do you take me for huh
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