Log: Kevin & Jubilee
Jan. 2nd, 2019 08:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated to January 2nd 2019. Around 8:30am
Jubilee takes Kevin to a wine tasting. The talk on the drive over turns to both the wine tasting, and to things of a more motivational nature.
“So, like, I got told this is one of the best wine vineyards in the area and they’ve been doing some interesting things with viticulture too. I figured if they’re good, we can pick up some clean skins and a few bottles of the good stuff too.”
Jubilee bounced a little in her seat, taking a corner on the narrow road somewhat fast given the conditions but still well within allowable ‘good driving’ parameters. At least, that’s what she would have said to anybody asking what the hell she thought she was doing.
"You're very focused on this. Any reason?"
“Wine is serious business, don’t you think?”
"Yes, when you're at the Four Seasons looking to put a serious dent in Worthington's credit card. This is alcoholic apple picking."
“You’re never gonna drink enough to bother Warren’s bottom line, just so you know”
Jubilee checked the GPS and made a right turn and heading down an unsealed dirt road.
“You got something against apple picking?”
"Apple picking is something you do if you like apples to convince yourself it's somehow enhancing the experience of eating an apple.
An apple pie doesn't taste any better if you picked the apple. The same applies to wine. Being a part of the supply chain doesn't make it better wine."
“Never took you for an Apple Grinch.”
Jubilee grinned at him before turning her gaze back to the unsealed road ahead.
“So, what other pearls of Grinchy wisdom you got for me, Kev?”
"I'm not a Grinch. I simply have many more years of wisdom to determine that manual labour is something to be avoided."
“Of course.”
Jubilee’s concentration was momentarily taken by the site of a vineyard as the created a hill and started down into the valley where the wine tastings were held.
“And the reason I’m focused is because if the wine is good enough, then I’ll be giving them as gifts to the others.”
Kevin chuckled. "Lee, this place sells its stock in town. Why not admit that this wine tasting is just something you think you'll enjoy?"
“Thought that was implied.”
Jubilee shrugged as she glanced across at him, taking in his expression before turning back.
“I always do what I enjoy if I get a choice, but anyway, yeah. I like the whole production. They give you these nibbles and they go through what they think they’re doing different from everyone else and like, you get to see them being all proud of what they’re doing. What’s not to love about that?”
"They spit the wine out. Into a bucket. And then take another mouthful of wine and spit it out into the same bucket. Not to make too many spit or swallow jokes, but you should always swallow, even if- no, especially if you're the degenerate French!"
“We talkin’ experience here or just hypotheticals now? Cause, dude, swallowing is not all it’s cracked up to be. Besides, it’s not like they’re selling you the wine out of the bucket.”
"French wine tastings are about the taste and mouth feel. You're not supposed to drink any of the wine you're tasting."
“So, you been to France before?”
Jubilee hadn’t, while she knew the language and had worked on her accent there’d never been a reason to send her when other people were more suited. Thus, everything here was new and she was taking the opportunity to actually be an American tourist rather than just playing at one.
"Enough. France was often a useful fallback if you were running operations in Eastern Europe. It was far enough from Germany that there was less intensity in opposition intelligence, but still security conscious." He said, softening his tone a bit. He was trying to make connections. Isn't that what he promised? "Traditional wine tastings in France are treated like religious ceremonies. It's about respect for the product and some of these fields can date back hundreds of years in operation. It's very much not like what you might have experienced in the US or, god help you, Canada."
“Not a fan of Canadian wine?”
Jubilee pulled the car into the small parking lot given over to visitors and moved the gear into Park. She could drive a stick but much preferred an auto, less things to keep an eye on.
“And don’t do that. If we’re gonna be friends, then don’t pretend with me.”
"Not a fan of Canada. Doesn't the Midwest produce enough awkward white people to meet demand?" He said, mulling over her second statement for a bit.
“I'm not gonna argue that one, dude. If there were like, less white people I might be able to spend less time answering those 'No, but where are you really from?' questions at the mall." Jubilee pressed the button on her seat belt and pushed her driver side door open, sliding the set of keys to the rental vehicle into the messenger satchel she'd bought along. You never knew what you'd need and so she never went anywhere without some sort of bag. "Although it does make it really easy to take their money without any kinda moral quandaries."
"If you're still having moral quandaries, you're in the wrong business. In general, people are shit. Full stop. Some are shittier because of structural issues, but overall, we are a trash species top to bottom."
"Or the right one." Jubilee grinned, and pushed the lock button on the car as they walked toward the house, or what looked like a house, she'd definitely seen the signs pointing to this as the place they were looking for though. "If everyone is trash, then it matters that I make sure that I'm less so."
"Lee, we work in intelligence. Which means we destroy people because it might make them tell us what we need to know. You want to be a hero, candy-stripe a cancer ward. What we do ultimately is, or should be at least, for the greater good. But we smash the eggs with a fucking sledgehammer to make our omelets." This was grimmer than he thought. Losing Dom had hurt. "I don't know. I shouldn't have come."
"God, dude. Get over yourself already." Jubilee paused, giving him a look best described as frustrated. "Yeah, we work in intelligence but in case you missed it, we're also a really, really small team which means nobody gets to sit in a tower and make life and death decisions in some kinda emotion free zone of utter logic. All this shit is ugly, messy as hell and no, I ain't ever gonna be a hero but fucked if I'm going to be some cold-hearted son of a bitch who doesn't care while I do it."
"You sure? Because I was. For years. And I don't regret them." Kevin said abruptly. "Not even now. Maybe I'm supposed to."
“Pretty sure I can’t answer that one for you.”
Jubilee pulled the keys out of her bag and tossed them to him underhand.
“Stay or go, I can flag a ride back if I need to. But you don’t have to, unless you want to.”
He caught the keys easily and looked at them for a long moment. Taking it meant a quiet day alone in the little place where the owner liked to tell war stories and drink the local house red. It was a comforting thought.
"You won't last a minute in a proper wine tasting." Saying exactly the wrong thing. It was a talent. "... and I'd like to be here. For a while, at least. If that's ok?"
“Oh, it’s on, old man. We’ll just have to see who can hold their own.”
Jubilee made a mockingly courtly gesture, giving him right of way but the grin she gave him was bright and her eyes were teasing.
Jubilee takes Kevin to a wine tasting. The talk on the drive over turns to both the wine tasting, and to things of a more motivational nature.
“So, like, I got told this is one of the best wine vineyards in the area and they’ve been doing some interesting things with viticulture too. I figured if they’re good, we can pick up some clean skins and a few bottles of the good stuff too.”
Jubilee bounced a little in her seat, taking a corner on the narrow road somewhat fast given the conditions but still well within allowable ‘good driving’ parameters. At least, that’s what she would have said to anybody asking what the hell she thought she was doing.
"You're very focused on this. Any reason?"
“Wine is serious business, don’t you think?”
"Yes, when you're at the Four Seasons looking to put a serious dent in Worthington's credit card. This is alcoholic apple picking."
“You’re never gonna drink enough to bother Warren’s bottom line, just so you know”
Jubilee checked the GPS and made a right turn and heading down an unsealed dirt road.
“You got something against apple picking?”
"Apple picking is something you do if you like apples to convince yourself it's somehow enhancing the experience of eating an apple.
An apple pie doesn't taste any better if you picked the apple. The same applies to wine. Being a part of the supply chain doesn't make it better wine."
“Never took you for an Apple Grinch.”
Jubilee grinned at him before turning her gaze back to the unsealed road ahead.
“So, what other pearls of Grinchy wisdom you got for me, Kev?”
"I'm not a Grinch. I simply have many more years of wisdom to determine that manual labour is something to be avoided."
“Of course.”
Jubilee’s concentration was momentarily taken by the site of a vineyard as the created a hill and started down into the valley where the wine tastings were held.
“And the reason I’m focused is because if the wine is good enough, then I’ll be giving them as gifts to the others.”
Kevin chuckled. "Lee, this place sells its stock in town. Why not admit that this wine tasting is just something you think you'll enjoy?"
“Thought that was implied.”
Jubilee shrugged as she glanced across at him, taking in his expression before turning back.
“I always do what I enjoy if I get a choice, but anyway, yeah. I like the whole production. They give you these nibbles and they go through what they think they’re doing different from everyone else and like, you get to see them being all proud of what they’re doing. What’s not to love about that?”
"They spit the wine out. Into a bucket. And then take another mouthful of wine and spit it out into the same bucket. Not to make too many spit or swallow jokes, but you should always swallow, even if- no, especially if you're the degenerate French!"
“We talkin’ experience here or just hypotheticals now? Cause, dude, swallowing is not all it’s cracked up to be. Besides, it’s not like they’re selling you the wine out of the bucket.”
"French wine tastings are about the taste and mouth feel. You're not supposed to drink any of the wine you're tasting."
“So, you been to France before?”
Jubilee hadn’t, while she knew the language and had worked on her accent there’d never been a reason to send her when other people were more suited. Thus, everything here was new and she was taking the opportunity to actually be an American tourist rather than just playing at one.
"Enough. France was often a useful fallback if you were running operations in Eastern Europe. It was far enough from Germany that there was less intensity in opposition intelligence, but still security conscious." He said, softening his tone a bit. He was trying to make connections. Isn't that what he promised? "Traditional wine tastings in France are treated like religious ceremonies. It's about respect for the product and some of these fields can date back hundreds of years in operation. It's very much not like what you might have experienced in the US or, god help you, Canada."
“Not a fan of Canadian wine?”
Jubilee pulled the car into the small parking lot given over to visitors and moved the gear into Park. She could drive a stick but much preferred an auto, less things to keep an eye on.
“And don’t do that. If we’re gonna be friends, then don’t pretend with me.”
"Not a fan of Canada. Doesn't the Midwest produce enough awkward white people to meet demand?" He said, mulling over her second statement for a bit.
“I'm not gonna argue that one, dude. If there were like, less white people I might be able to spend less time answering those 'No, but where are you really from?' questions at the mall." Jubilee pressed the button on her seat belt and pushed her driver side door open, sliding the set of keys to the rental vehicle into the messenger satchel she'd bought along. You never knew what you'd need and so she never went anywhere without some sort of bag. "Although it does make it really easy to take their money without any kinda moral quandaries."
"If you're still having moral quandaries, you're in the wrong business. In general, people are shit. Full stop. Some are shittier because of structural issues, but overall, we are a trash species top to bottom."
"Or the right one." Jubilee grinned, and pushed the lock button on the car as they walked toward the house, or what looked like a house, she'd definitely seen the signs pointing to this as the place they were looking for though. "If everyone is trash, then it matters that I make sure that I'm less so."
"Lee, we work in intelligence. Which means we destroy people because it might make them tell us what we need to know. You want to be a hero, candy-stripe a cancer ward. What we do ultimately is, or should be at least, for the greater good. But we smash the eggs with a fucking sledgehammer to make our omelets." This was grimmer than he thought. Losing Dom had hurt. "I don't know. I shouldn't have come."
"God, dude. Get over yourself already." Jubilee paused, giving him a look best described as frustrated. "Yeah, we work in intelligence but in case you missed it, we're also a really, really small team which means nobody gets to sit in a tower and make life and death decisions in some kinda emotion free zone of utter logic. All this shit is ugly, messy as hell and no, I ain't ever gonna be a hero but fucked if I'm going to be some cold-hearted son of a bitch who doesn't care while I do it."
"You sure? Because I was. For years. And I don't regret them." Kevin said abruptly. "Not even now. Maybe I'm supposed to."
“Pretty sure I can’t answer that one for you.”
Jubilee pulled the keys out of her bag and tossed them to him underhand.
“Stay or go, I can flag a ride back if I need to. But you don’t have to, unless you want to.”
He caught the keys easily and looked at them for a long moment. Taking it meant a quiet day alone in the little place where the owner liked to tell war stories and drink the local house red. It was a comforting thought.
"You won't last a minute in a proper wine tasting." Saying exactly the wrong thing. It was a talent. "... and I'd like to be here. For a while, at least. If that's ok?"
“Oh, it’s on, old man. We’ll just have to see who can hold their own.”
Jubilee made a mockingly courtly gesture, giving him right of way but the grin she gave him was bright and her eyes were teasing.
