xp_logs | Log: Bishop and Jennie (Reply)

Bishop goes to collect a memory card full of pictures from Jennie and they agree about proper drunk etiquette.

Bishop made his way to the mansion the day after the party for Emma at the brownstone. He had been tasked with the very menial collection of photo evidence. Of course, it was a reason to drop in on Jennie and because of that he didn't have any complaints. He knocked lightly at her door, in case she found herself hung over. Honestly, if they did things in public they couldn't handle it was their problem and the journals were already buzzing with the happenings. It was still an excuse, however.

The door opened to reveal Jennie, clad in yoga pants and a tank top. But far from doing any sort of physical activities, she was doing her usual hangover cure of eggs, bacon, a can of cold coke and a sex in the city marathon. "Why Bishop," the girl said with a smile, "come to collect the evidence for your Imperial Mistress?" The only evidence of her late night were the two dark circles under her eyes.

"I prefer to think of it as a working relationship instead of servitude." The huge man leaned against the door frame. The last thing he wanted to appear to be was intimidating. He fired a smile right back, not looking like he had drank at all; which may very well be the case since he wasn't present at the party. Though, he didn't know who was in attendance then, either.

"Well, come on in," Jennie waved him into the suite she shared with Zanne. The place was neat and orderly, with all of their various and sundry knicknacks, dishes, liquor bottles and the like all arranged in groupings of three or numbers divisible by three. Jennie was grateful to Zanne for putting up with her eccentricities when it came to cleaning. She wasn't as bad as she had been a couple of months ago, at least. "Can I get you anything? Water, soda, juice?" she said, playing the part of proper hostess.

With that offer, Bishop stepped in and sat on her couch. "Water if I'm going to be in for an ordeal." He smiled jokingly, taking note of the threes and wondering which of the pair required it. "Or all three if necessary. I am the guest after all. I'd hate to throw off the theme."

Jennie tilted her head at Bishop's statement, and then sighed a bit, "Yeah, it's a thing," Jennie waved a hand airily. She went to the kitchenette and poured Bishop a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. Walking over, she handed it to the large man seated on the couch. "I have OCD, so sometimes I get a little weird with the arrangements around here."

"I stash bottles of Markers everywhere I go regularly." Bishop took a drink from the glass. "We all have our things." It was an old detective's trick. When someone told you something that could be considered personal you responded in kind. It built trust and that lead to more information. In the case of casual conversation, it built friendships or at least respect.

"I knew a guy who did that," Jennie perched herself on the arm of the couch. "He liked to hide them in places like the toilet tank and in the hide-a-bed in his living room. Do you have to keep any stashed at that place you work at?"

"My desk, room, and a few cabinets. I have a couple here too." Bishop looked over to Jennie as she perched on the arm of the couch, about the same height as each other now. "No where quite that bad, just cabinets mostly."

"Too bad I live with many telepaths and underage children, otherwise I would probably go about stashing bottles in our comms room myself," Jennie said with a grin. She reached down and picked up her soda from the coffee table. "I do feel sorry for the poor bastards who had to work today, although that's what you get when you get that wild on a weekday." What had been ever funnier than the idea of a drunk Illyana to Jennie last night was the thought of a hungover Illyana the next morning.

"You just need a belt buckle flask. I saw a few on the streets that you couldn't tell were anything unusual." Bishop laughed a little at the memory from his time on patrol with NYPD. "Not that I think everyone should drink as much as I do. The brownstone is proof of that. Most of them just don't have the abilities for it."

Jennie smiled ruefully at some of her memories from last night. "No, they don't. Some of them were like 14-year-olds on a bender," those were memories (and photos) that certain people would probably wish would disappear. "Speaking of--" Jennie stood and retrieved the memory card from the desk in the main part of the suite and handed it to Bishop. "Everything's on there, nothing's been copied, I just moved my personal photos off there. I'm sure your I.T. guy will attest. So you can assure Mister LeBeau that I am nothing but the picture of trustworthiness."

"Now they'll just have to trust that I am as well." Bishop slipped the card into the watch pocket of his jeans. He took her tone to be the end of their conversation and he stood, paused for a moment in case she had anything else on her mind. People would be surprised how many things had been blurted out to him because he took an extra second to walk out of a room.

Well, if he was that eager to leave... "So, anything thrilling on the agenda? Besides humiliating your coworkers with the contents of that memory card?" Jennie said. "Trust me, there are some great shots on there. Almost company Christmas-card worthy."

The return to conversation was taken as, of course, an invitation to stay. Bishop picked up his glass and moved to the far end of the couch. He wanted to give Jennie room to sit on her own couch and he tended to get the impression she liked to keep distance; her body language around him tended to scream as much. He pulled his phone from his pocket before sitting and laughed, pushing the memory card into it.

"Is that so?" Without shame he jumped into the pictures. "Not that I don't trust you but I can't expect you to talk that explicitly to me." He said playfully.

"I especially like the ones there of Illyana and Jake, I'm pretty sure that's probably illegal in some states..."

Bishop flipped through the pictures, making sure to angle the phone as best he could so Jennie could see. "A waste to get rid of these." He mused as he scrolled through them.

Jennie shook her head in mock-ruefulness, "Well, I like my blood to stay in my body, so I bequeath them to your organization. Perhaps you can lobby so that they're not deleted."

"I might be able to see that something is done." Once he had scrolled through them all, Bishop pocketed his phone. "It's a good rule to live by that a person shouldn't do something they couldn't handle being public knowledge."

"Or if they do something where they can't be seen public, and then they act like drunken heathens, to not be shocked if there winds up being photographic evidence," Jennie said with a nod.

"Exactly." Bishop nodded in agreement, smiling to Jennie.