Nemesis - A Check In

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

Jennie takes the late night comms shift, and checks in with two of her people from Clarent House. They goof up a bit.



Jennie leaned back in her chair, boots up on the console. "Channel 57 dash B 9," she said, running an emery board along her thumbnail. Comms was the much loathed part of being Team, monitoring an array of communications in case any thing popped up that called for intervention. It was often thunderingly dull. Which meant that Jennie was multitasking that night.

The comm channel she was using was secure and untraceable, thanks to the jerry-rigged pay-as-you go cellphone, a few cases of gummy bears and the questionable morals of some of the Xavier's students. And of course, Blakely, John's friend who kept the channel that Jennie used to keep contact with her team.

It was about four rings before a cheerful, British voice picked up. "Hullo?" Pash's voice gave the air of someone who was only half-focused on the phone call. "To what do the owe the pleasure of this lovely call?"

"Hey Pash," Jennie found herself smiling. "It's that time again, your C.O. requests a check in. Also she's bored as shit." As much as she tried to maintain her professional demeanor, that fell by the wayside as time passed. They were, after all, links to her past and she missed them horribly.

"Blimey, my C.O. is such a slave driver," Pash sighed dramatically. "Always wanting to know if I'm still alive and making me entertain her when she's bored. I should fine a new one." She chuckled. "How are you, Jennie?"

"Still ticking," Jennie sighed. "Still breathing. You know, pretty much the same as last time."

"Yeah?" Pash's voice fell a bit flat for a moment. "Have you uh...have you heard anything from him?"

There was no question who 'He' was.

"Nope," Jennie said. "Which is good, I like not having broken bones," also not being dead, "But bad, because I know you probably want out of exile as bad as I want you out."

"Nah, exile is great." Pash's tone was right back to flippantly, carelessly normal. "Do you know how much time I've had to catch up on telly and paint my nails? They're beautiful, I should send you a picture."

"If I can get you a secure line, you should," Jennie said, keenly aware of their current limitations. She was still wary of involving the mansion too deeply into her mess, still afraid of what would happen if she brought Mother down on all their heads.

"You should work on that," Pash agreed. "I have an amazing view, the Arabian Sea is lovely this time of year."

"Pash," Jennie sighed. "Remember, no hints about where you are?" she rubbed her face.

"Ah, right." If she was at all worried about the slip up, she didn't show it. "So I probably shouldn't send you a picture, then. But it's lovely. Perfect temperature."

That was Pash. Jennie often did all the worrying for the both of them. "I bet it is," Jennie leaned forward and rested her forehead against the console. "I'm just glad you're ok."

"Are you sure you are?" Pash asked, voice soft and serious for a surprising moment.

"Honestly?" Jennie sat up and ran a hand through her hair. "No. I mean, I'm better than what I was, I no longer feel like there's a giant sucking chest wound where my heart should be, but still not ok, you know? Not sure if I'll ever be."

"I can't even imagine," Pash said. "Better than you were is a start though."

"Yeah. Also still alive, which is a win for me," Jennie fingered one of the rings in her ears. She also decided not to mention her dating life. She wasn't sure she wanted to discuss that yet.

"Alive is always good," the other woman agreed. "Sometimes you can't ask for more than that. Well. You could ask for a mimosa and a cute bloke too."

Jennie laughed at that. "Maybe in a little while. Still in the window shopping phase."

"Hey a cute bloke can also be just to look at! They're multi-purpose, you can look, you can snog, you can sleep with them..." Her voice drifted off as she thought. "Actually that might be about it."

"One of these days, a dude is going to knock you off your feet, and I'm going to laugh, and laugh, and laugh," Jennie said, thinking of other conversations the two of them had. Where they would play snog, marry, kill at the pub, paint the town red, all that. But Jennie was also reminded that Pash had been the driving force between uniting both her and Donal.

"Never," Pash gasped, offended by the idea. "Don't even speak of such things."

"Just you wait, someone charming, handsome, smart, rich..." Jennie said wickedly. "He'll come along and be all 'Pash, mi amor...'"

"You are cruel, Jennie." Pash shuddered, practically shivering. "Oh god, I can't even imagine. What would I do?"

"Do what you always do, shove your tongue down his throat and take him for everything he's worth," Jennie tossed her hair over her shoulder. "One of us should be having fun."

"Well I can always pass him off to you next if you're interested. I'm not against sharing."

"I think I'm good," Jennie looked down. And fingered the ring on the chain that hung around her neck. "For now at least. And I should let you go. Gotta stop clogging up the channel with our girl talk."

"Oh yeah, forgot about that." She sighed. "Alright, alright. Let me know when I can send you pictures, my nails are too beautiful not to be admired by the world."

"I'll work on it. Take care. I'll check in again." The two women said their goodbyes, and then Jennie disconnected. Somehow feeling even lonelier than when she started the call. Then she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Time for misfit toy number two.

"Bloody fucking Christ," Nigel muttered, thumbing his phone on without looking at the caller ID. "Just give me the bleeding beer, you raging twat. I've no use for your lovely bunch of coconuts." Then, putting the mobile properly to his ear, he said, "What."

"Ah, the dulcet tones that I missed so much," Jennie said, leaning back in her chair. "Hi Nige, it's that time again," his C.O. cooed over the secure line.

"Mary's dripping tits," Nigel said, giving up on his beer. He threw a wad of cash at the bartender and snagged a bottle of rum. "Still breathing," he said.

Jennie pinched the bridge of her nose. "Is that all?"

"What, you expecting some type of miracle now? It's hot as balls here and the beer's piss poor," Nigel said, uncapping the bottle of rum. "Breathing's about all you're getting until I've downed half this bottle of -- " He broke off. "English Harbor rum."

"Nige--" There was warning in Jennie's voice. "Remember what we talked about, about not even so much as breathing a hint of where you are? I recall there was very specific training that we all got about that." Nigel was slipping back into bad habits, but he'd had a lifetime on all of them before he'd been drafted into Clarent House, and old habits were hard to break.

"Fuck off," Nigel said, taking a long pull from the bottle. "God's honest truth, my girl -- I'm about done with all this isolation and shite."

"I know," Jennie sighed. "I know. I'm doing everything I can on my end. It's like hitting myself in the head with a hammer sometimes." Literally sometimes. "More importantly, how's James?"

The other wildcard in this whole mess. James McGrath. Donal's father.

"Old man McGrath? He's aces, ain't he love? Son's off doing God knows what, can't go home, stuck in the ass end of the tropics with a Tory bastard what can't get drunk." Pausing himself mid-rant, Nigel turned around. "Yeah, there he is. Two fingers right back at you, you old sod!"

"He's younger than you, Nigel," Jennie said dryly. But a knot untensed behind her shoulders. At least James was still safe, if stuck with the grumpiest Brit alive. "And for God's sake, stop giving off hints where you are!"

"Yeah, yeah," Nigel said, taking another pull off his bottle. He paused, then grudgingly asked, "And Pash?"

"Continues to be her lovable self, hale and hearty, and who knows not to tell me where she is," Jennie said, fingering a curl and frowning at it. That was a lie, of course. But perhaps shame would work on Nigel.

"Aw, love," Nigel almost smiled despite himself. "Know how many places they'd have to look to find us on what I said? Too many. I'll shank a body what comes after the old man. No worries."

"I worry, it's my job. Also because I care about you knuckleknobs. Your continued existence is of a great importance to me," Jennie said. Maybe one day they could all be together again. As... something. A team?

Well. Tackle the problem of the demonic cult and the undead ex-fiancee first. One thing at a time.

Nigel didn't respond immediately, clearing his throat instead. Then he said, "Oh, look. A fist fight. Excellent. Ta, love!" And rang off.

Jennie closed the line and rubbed her face. All was quiet on that end. Her eyes flicked to the screens in front of her. And somewhere out there, She was, waiting for her to come and find them.