shatterverse | (no subject)

It's noticed, but almost as much as noticed its disregarded.

Given things not discussed, because Jo neither discussing nor mentioning nor thinking about those things, Jack's the only person in Metropolis who having in her space doesn't evoke the instant reaction to partly want to throttle them.

Jo nudges his shoulder, making a mock face at the invasion, and started unscrewing her jar to pour peanuts.

Edited 2008-09-26 23:42 (UTC)

Jack snorts in amusement at the shoulder check; dodges too late and rpetneds to be hurt at the violence.

"You're faring well?"

She's ignoring well, Jack can usually handle that. But he checks on account of actually wanting a glimpse under the veil. And because he thinks the rest has done her good.

Jo's expression was teasingly superior as though she'd won for it.

She moved on to another table, pouring peanuts into a small bowl as she spoke.

"My back's sore from teaching another Neanderthal about the word no this morning, but aside from that I'm about as right as ever happens in a city."

Edited 2008-09-27 00:01 (UTC)

"They learn."

That could have had more Jack-humour in it. Wait a second.

"With you to teach?"

There it is.

"They learn. It's a worthy lesson to teach."

It gets a smirk.

(And them off track. Which is perhaps on purpose, too.)

"I rather like it. Taking out the trash is rarely so fun, nor happening so often elsewhere."

He likes the metaphor, and grins for it. Jack follows her to the table now, to clean that.

And to steal a peanut, which he offers her.

"There's plenty of trash elsewhere."

Her finger tips, calloused yet gentle, brushed the skin of his as she stole the peanut and popped it in her mouth.

"Are you sweet talking me with things I can eviscerate?"

Not that she'd turn it down. Ever.

But presently it was one of the two acts which made her feel most alive, still connected to her skin.

His fingers stay there longer than they need to, before darting back to push strawberry blonde hair into his hat.

"Aye, I'd sweet talk you with other things, but mayhap you've had your fill of that from this city?"

The dart gets a tug at one corner of her mouth; it's almost an accusing smirk, even as she shifts her weight between her feet. Peanut can resting in her free hand, held against her stomach.

"I am, but I've never met a city that swayed my interest from the road long." Not counting the one that predominated her thoughts for the last month, keeping her from hunting even.

Beat.

"It's not like I have my own wheels here unless I feel the itch for something shiny and new." Or you know, half exploded and in need of two weeks repair like the last one.

"Aye, the open sea has always called to me more than the ports," Jack says. "My wheels were the first thing I found myself in this world."

Jo's head tilted, copper eyes narrowing.

"No boats to steal?"

It's really a why are you here if your passion is there question without being one.

"Oceans unnavigable."

Which they are, in the current state of affairs.

"more to life than travel, anyway. There's people."

Jo look ironically amused at the end.

"Metropolis is a good place for the last one."

It had far more people than she really liked in it.

"Aye," Jack agrees. "Right now."

She moved to the next table, pouring nuts into the next empty bowl.

"And later?"

"Many of the people I care for her will move on," Jack says. He's following Jo with his cleaning, wiping tables as she pours the nuts.

"Mayhap they'll want me to accompany them."

He gets a small bit of a smirk with a raised eyebrow.

"Many?"

"The ones for which I stay now."

Jack smirks back at her, above hands that are working close.

How very round about that was. Jo's smirk didn't move.

"I'm out whenever. The place is stuffy."

Her head shifted to one side as she pulled canister back once the dish was full.

"Saw Rachel and Dean at one of the clubs."

Those words were about as blank as they could be made.

The depth under them still staggeringly knife-sharp with the same earlier reactions to their actions in place.

"Aye?" Jack says, casually.

"Fare they well?"

Jo shrugged, moving to another table.

"Rachel's apparently not one for dancing."

"Too serious for it," Jack remarks. "I was similar, her age."

Which reminds him that he has things in common with the little secret keeper, and maybe he should talk to her.

"I encountered her briefly, as well. Few words exchanged."

Jo nodded, very slightly.

It might have been lost in the swing of her blonde curls as she moved.

"Go well?"

There might have been a possessive surge before the question was asked.

But this did not show on the outside in the slightest.

Edited 2008-09-30 16:03 (UTC)

"No," Jack says, cheerfully.

"I think she likes me not."

That possessive urge flexed into a relieved, minutely smug, one.

If tinged by some curious regret a second after that, too.

They were complicated. Not cut and dry still.

Jo looked up from a bowl, lips pressed.

"Why?"