Rappaccini's Daughter - On the porch

[x-courier.livejournal.com]

Wanda and Jake decompress on the Blacks' front porch once the excitement's over.



Once all the shouting had died down and the bad guys made their escape, Jake dragged himself out to the front porch. It was cool and quiet out here, in marked contrast to the warm, overly crowded living room he'd left behind. He sat down on the stoop, still feeling shaky and overwhelmed--the taser had proven itself to be startlingly effective at taking him down, combining with his mutation to overload his brain and leave him with the sensation that he was a half-step behind in everything.

He lit a cigarette with trembling fingers, inhaling deeply and trying to not think about the last few hours, or much of anything. His gaze wandered over the row of houses across the street, all very normal looking, like in a television show about small-town life. The people in those homes had no idea what had just happened here. He envied them that.

A figure dropped next to him on the porch, long legs stretching out down the stairs in front of her. Wanda was quiet as well but for different reasons; the adrenaline that had flowed through her when she heard Jake's screams had finally started to abate and she was left in that weird time after. A little numb but overly alert as well. She kept quiet, just lightly leaned against his shoulder - not enough for real pressure but enough that she could feel his body heat through her shirt.

"Hey," he said finally, not trusting himself to say anything else. He was torn between wanting to lean away from her and wanting to wrap his arm around her and never let go. Instead he took another drag on the cigarette, letting their shoulders continue to touch.

"Hey yourself," Wanda responded, fingers splaying across her knees as she relaxed slowly. She was used to being afraid and worried for her coworkers and teammates. She wasn't used to being scared for Jake and it worried her. "Well. This was fucked up." Obvious, of course, but it was said with a hint of dry humor.

Jake laughed, a short, dry bark that had just as much to do with Wanda cursing as anything else. "Yeah. That's one word for it." He still hadn't looked at her directly, eyes fixed on a spot where the grass met the sidewalk. "You didn't happen to find an extra arm in one of the closets in there, did you?"

"Sadly, no, but I did look. They had no intention of bringing it with them, I'm afraid." She glanced down at his arm, knowing it was the one that was 'real', and asked, "Do you feel anything now?"

He shook his head. "No, although I'm sure they won't hesitate to wake me up in the middle of the night again," he said bitterly.

Wanda nodded as her gaze wandered to the same patch of grass he was staring at. "Which means we put the pressure on them. Once Cammie's parents are, well, less traumatized we'll get all the information on the two 'scientists' as we can. We know more now than we did yesterday."

"True," he agreed, although he was less relieved by the thought than he would have expected. "Cammie said something about the...package she got, that it came by delivery boy. I'm exceptionally curious as to who that might have been," he said dryly. "We know who they are and what they look like. We know that they're batshit crazy." He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a white box. "And I have these."

For everything that she'd seen, the idea that Jake's fingers were rolling around in there was rather disturbing. "We'll put the team on it, maybe pull in your father to help you track down that messenger if we get stonewalled," she responded, eyeing the box with horrific curiosity. "And the next time I get my hands on that woman, she is not getting away."

The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I don't doubt that in the slightest." His fingers wrapped tightly around the box. He knew he ought to put it away, but he was afraid someone would steal it like he'd lifted it from Cammie.

They were silent for another moment before he spoke. "I guess this means I'm back to not leaving the Brownstone without a babysitter."

"Oh honey, the problem was that I was your babysitter," she joked, before laying her head on his shoulder.

He smirked at that, wearily resting his cheek atop her head. "I'd say you're fired, but I know you won't listen."

"When do I ever?"

"Hate you," he replied, but he didn't have the energy to pretend like he meant it. He finished his cigarette and ground it out, then flicked it into the yard. "Do me a favor? Promise me we're going to find these bastards."

Wanda patted him on the knee, already wondering how long it would be until they could take these people out at the knees. "Consider this your Hanukkah present," she told him, the tone of her voice leaving no room for doubt.

"Only if it's early. I'd rather not wait that long." He sighed as something else occurred to him. "The guys that came to get us were with New Son. George seems to have gone rogue. So there are two factions involved here." He rubbed at his eyes. "And two bodies in the warehouse, unless he did something with them."

"Fantastic," she groaned. "Of course this couldn't be simple, could it? So New Son has a hand in this, as does George and that looney with him. She probably managed to convince him to come over to her side - hopefully. The reason I say that is because I do not want to see this get more complicated with three factions."

"God, don't even joke about that," Jake moaned. "It's bad enough already." He shrugged. "Although we could use Cammie as bait, now that we know both sides are interested in her."

Wanda reached up and firmly grabbed him by the ear. "Jacob Gavin," she said sternly, "stop tempting me with horrible but very clever ideas this moment."

"OW!" He ended up all but in her lap as he attempted to relieve the painful pulling. "Okay, okay. I won't throw the mouthy brat who keeps hitting me under the bus. Although you could at least have the courtesy to pretend to get jealous." He rubbed at his ear as she let go. "I thought you were the only one who was allowed to hurt me."

"Oh, I am, but you'd have to be a complete girl if Cammie's hits were actually causing you any damage." She smirked at him, tilting her head just so, obviously trying to draw him away from the glum and horror that he'd gotten himself involved in.

"Hey!" He tucked the box with his fingers in it safely back in his inner pocket. "She hits hard," he protested. "Even without her whole poison thing. And she fights dirty." His hand snaked out then to ambush Wanda's ribs. "Like someone else I know," he grinned as he tickled her.

She snorted and reared back in an attempt to put some distance between his poking hands and her ribcage. When that wasn't successful, Wanda reached down and snagged his hands with hers, pinning them. "Fighting dirty is a quality one should look for," she sniffed, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. "Do you want to go in or do you want to wait for them to come out here?"

"I knew there was a reason we got along so well," Jake returned, holding her hands tightly. He squeezed them as if to reassure himself that she was real, that things would work out. He glanced at the house. "I'd rather avoid all the prodigal daughter stuff that's probably going on in there, if I could. But you can go in if you want." The smile he gave her wasn't nearly as convincing as either of them would have liked. "I promise not to get kidnapped off the front porch."

"Well, that does it; you went and angered the gods now. I suppose I shall have to spend the time out here with you..."