[ She knows about his other abilities -- awareness is something else entirely. If she thinks about it too much, it's back to a life of celibacy for him and at least a week-long, uninterrupted bender for her. As long as he never quite likes her, she figures the risk of intimate gestures is small. If he needs that, he can find somewhere else to get it. So, again, celibacy.
She rolls her eyes, though she does commit to recalling Marcos's face and that's better than most casual mentions get. He was part of the original away team she crossed paths with, forming a tenuous don't-ask-don't-tell pact that's mutated (get it) into a barely sustainable work relationship. For instance, she thought Marcos's name was Carlos, so. ]
Not the rest of the Funky Bunch? [ She sounds drolly disappointed. It was that or "Oh hi, Mark." ]
[ He snorts - they'd hate that nickname. Lorna, especially; but Lorna already disliked Jess. Lorna disliked practically everyone, but even more other women who played on the same lengths she herself did. She liked to think she had her little corner for herself. ]
Haven't told them where I was going.
[ Outside of the broad strokes, anyway. Supplies, checking in, the usual. Sonia would just have been too obvious about her dislike if she knew, and Lorna would have teased him to no end. Better to keep it to Marcos - someone needs to know just in case he needs back-up. ]
D'you want to grab some dinner? My place is upstairs from a Chinese. We can eat it in bed.
[ Good. She figures that goes without saying because with saying would be too much like asking him for something. A former X-hole ought to be able to keep a secret, if none of his other credentials apply. ]
As long as it's crappy Chinese. [ She catches up to him in stride with two quick steps. Her forehead is slightly pleated while clearing her head of the slurry of invoked images, recollections of mystical ninja bullshit soaked in enough sobriety to give her the first tingles of a headache. She can assuage it knowing she made the right decision, keeping her involvement there out of the airwaves. Less for John to use against her when she takes his beliefs to task.
Trying to come up with what she wants has her drawing a blank, which isn't unusual. Malcolm tries to get her to eat better but their meal philosophies fundamentally differ. For Jess it's always in service of drinking or fucking, so anything with carbs works just as well. Flattening her lips wryly, she adds, ] And I can work up an appetite.
[ Suppressing a snort, John nods. They can go down to the restaurant later, grab potstickers and chow mein and call it a meal. It's not like he eats well himself - most of the supplies go to refugees, so even now that he's out of the military, he's still living on MREs. ]
Sure. We can work up an appetite first.
[ Another minute, and they're walking past the shitty chinese restaurant storefront to his building door, tucked in between two buildings. Up two flights of stairs, and they're there. It's sparse, no need to decorate a hole in a wall he barely spends any time in, but it's functional. ]
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no subject
Date: 2017-11-22 06:13 pm (UTC)She rolls her eyes, though she does commit to recalling Marcos's face and that's better than most casual mentions get. He was part of the original away team she crossed paths with, forming a tenuous don't-ask-don't-tell pact that's mutated (get it) into a barely sustainable work relationship. For instance, she thought Marcos's name was Carlos, so. ]
Not the rest of the Funky Bunch? [ She sounds drolly disappointed. It was that or "Oh hi, Mark." ]
no subject
Date: 2017-11-27 03:17 pm (UTC)Haven't told them where I was going.
[ Outside of the broad strokes, anyway. Supplies, checking in, the usual. Sonia would just have been too obvious about her dislike if she knew, and Lorna would have teased him to no end. Better to keep it to Marcos - someone needs to know just in case he needs back-up. ]
D'you want to grab some dinner? My place is upstairs from a Chinese. We can eat it in bed.
no subject
Date: 2017-11-28 08:01 am (UTC)As long as it's crappy Chinese. [ She catches up to him in stride with two quick steps. Her forehead is slightly pleated while clearing her head of the slurry of invoked images, recollections of mystical ninja bullshit soaked in enough sobriety to give her the first tingles of a headache. She can assuage it knowing she made the right decision, keeping her involvement there out of the airwaves. Less for John to use against her when she takes his beliefs to task.
Trying to come up with what she wants has her drawing a blank, which isn't unusual. Malcolm tries to get her to eat better but their meal philosophies fundamentally differ. For Jess it's always in service of drinking or fucking, so anything with carbs works just as well. Flattening her lips wryly, she adds, ] And I can work up an appetite.
no subject
Date: 2017-12-07 03:09 pm (UTC)Sure. We can work up an appetite first.
[ Another minute, and they're walking past the shitty chinese restaurant storefront to his building door, tucked in between two buildings. Up two flights of stairs, and they're there. It's sparse, no need to decorate a hole in a wall he barely spends any time in, but it's functional. ]
Make yourself at home.