Log: North & Jubilee (Backdated)

[x-maverick.livejournal.com]

A brief look into a regular evening of two spies at a safe house.



Like every other safe house, the apartment was mostly bare. But with the stocked pantry and modest weapons supply hidden beneath the floorboards, North was not one to complain much. The job this time was a simple information retrieval mission with a low mortality rate. Swift entry and swift exit. Their plane left in seven hours. Or at least, that was what their mission chit said. Marks often had a habit of complicating simple missions.

So North parked his butt at the kitchen table and tuned the television to a radio channel, dismantling two handguns and laying their parts out on the table for cleaning as the faint aroma of food started to permeate the air.

In the small kitchen that was all the safe house had to offer, Jubilee whistled as she fried bacon, watching as it crinkled at the edges.

"So, what sort of bet you want to make this time? I figure we get the information but like, totally end up in some kind of Godfather style brawl getting out."

"I should hope not," he grumbled, rolling his head around to ease the kinks in his neck. "It is hardly a maximum security prison cell. That would be an overkill."

"Spoilsport," Jubilee said, though her tone was amicable as she slid the cooked bacon onto an oven tray before putting another set into the pan. "How you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled. Runny. Thank you," he said, re-assembling one of the guns with expert motions. "How about this? If it goes off without a hitch, I will write your report for you."

"Done and done, crazy man."

Jubilee cracked a few eggs into a bowl she'd found in one of the cupboards and went about adding a few spices. The place wasn't a gourmet paradise but it seemed well enough stocked in the basics - pretty much what you wanted in a safe house, really.

"You ever time yourself on that?"

She gestured to where he was cleaning and reassembling his weapons, her eyes following his precise movements before turning back to the eggs. She picked up a whisk and started combining the ingredients she'd added to the bowl.

“In a manner of speaking,” he replied, carefully cleaning out the barrel. “Mostly measured in whether I can assemble or dissemble a gun before someone kills me. We had timed competitions in the army, for fun. Other than that, better to have a clean gun than one assembled in under 2 seconds.”

He glanced up at her, corner of his eyes crinkling. “Which is about how long one can take if the parts are laid out right to begin with.”

"Dude, you can't just say that and then not prove it. I demand demonstrations! You win and I'll do your report for this whole thing."

She moved over to the stove as she talked and poured the eggs into a frying pan she'd put on the stove a few minutes before. The egg mixture sizzled as it went in, before going silent as it cooked. She watched for the bubbles that would indicate it was time to turn it over, glancing at North from time to time as she waited.

“And who am I supposed to be winning against?” He asked, wiping his fingers off on a rag, looking vaguely amused as he fished his phone out of his pocket to check for any incoming information. “My nineteen year old self?”

"totally your nineteen year old self, I wanna see if you can still get it up, old man."

Jubilee grinned at him and scraped the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates, taking North's over to him.

He looked up at her with a smile and a gleam in his eyes. Then there was a flurry of movement as his hands moved over the table and across the handgun he had laid out for him. Just as she settled the plate in front of him, North handed her the Colt, handle first.

"Still got it."

"Nice, dude. You totally have to teach me to do that."

She pushed his plate over to him, and handed him a knife and fork before going back for condiments and placing those on the table as well. It took a few moments of extra fussing to get them drinks before she pulled a chair out and sat down in front of him.

"So, what do ya think?"

He dusted his eggs with salt and pepper and lifted a forkful to his mouth. "I think I ought to stop letting you raid my fridge seeing that you can actually cook for yourself."

"Bite your tongue - I'm a growing, energy using woman and need all the food I can get - especially the kind that's free."

She dug into her own food with gusto, fingers tapping out a complicated beat against her cutlery as she chewed - she'd had the Tubthumping song in her head for days now with no sign of getting rid of it any time soon. The upside being if there were any telepaths around they would've gone mad pretty quickly after about the first hour of 'I get knocked down, and I get up again.'