Log: Kevin/Wanda: The Clover Club
Aug. 18th, 2023 10:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFollowing the mission, Kevin and Wanda go for drinks.
Kevin tended to lurk throughout Manhattan for his drinking spots, but the economics had driven most of his dive-ry haunts to the other boroughs. As a result, he'd found himself working his way through options elsewhere, in this case, Brooklyn. While the Clover Club was more meant for expensive cocktail fans and parting Wall Street types who decided to cross the Hudson from their money, it was the bar that brought him back. Mahogany, running the length of the front, and had spent the first 70 years of its life in the bar at the Drake hotel. How it ended up in the Brooklyn bar was still a mystery, but Kevin wasn't about to miss a chance to revisit.
Fortunately, several very powerful executives with no idea they knew Kevin had him installed on both their tabs and for management to understand he was to be accommodated. As a result, a couple of reservations found themselves moved to different tables as he and Wanda took up seats in a nook at the end of the bar.
"When it comes to reservations, I am never going to question your ways," Wanda chuckled, picking up the Manhattan that the very prompt waiter had just left for her. "I haven't been to the Clover Club in ages - a lack of open reservations certainly being a factor."
In part, at least - constantly under cover overseas had been wreaking havoc on having a normal life. She’s been able to spend a bit of time home after the last time before heading out again. Cults were like roaches.
This last mission had been - interesting. Wanda was itching to get her into the books but, honestly, she was bruised and her powers battered. And she had missed this part of her life.
"One advantage of being a shapeshifter. A lot of influential people who have never met me oddly feel the need to hook me up." Kevin accepted his Tom Collins. "All goes on a tab with an excellent tip that neither of us will ever see. It's like Robin Hood, only mostly selfish and focused on myself."
She toasted him with her drink before taking a sip. "Well, I appreciate being your plus one and being able to reap the benefits. It's very handy to have associates who can never call in those favors. Though…our mutual friend says things aren’t quite forgiven. Though i think she at least tolerates me, which is nice.”
Update here about the last mission
"I always prefer to be the one owed favours. After all, that's part of our job." Kevin took a long sip. "How did the last sweep through Europe go? Any issues?"
"Which one? This last one… Only if you count nearly ending up running an entire cult yourself by the end of it a problem." She made a noise of disgust and waved her hand. "They were smuggling magical items like we thought but how they had managed to keep it under the radar for so long by being that inept, I will never understand. I went from new recruit to third in command in less than two months." Wanda shook her head. "That particular group has been taken care of. A week prior to coming back, a police raid just happened to occur after I got the rest of the items out of their hands. The police are having a field day, however -"
She smirked at Kevin, looking quite pleased with herself. "By the time I was done, they were no longer smuggling magical items but highly expensive and rare cheeses and their books clearly showed they'd been in operation for some time."
"So nothing to make the magical underground sniff around and frankly, the French cops are going to come down harder on them for smuggling cheese than they are for 'antiques'." Kevin grinned. "A deft bit of work there. You'd think you were meant for this life instead of the classroom."
She clinked her glass against his. “Hmm, just maybe. As thrilling as the idea is of fighting to get tenure and dealing with academics on the daily, I think I prefer getting shot at.”
"I've made some calls. There's a list of elite schools longer then my... well, really long, that would hire you on tenure track at whatever salary you asked in a heartbeat. Don't lie to a liar. You like the life."
Leaning back, Wanda's smile grew contemplative. The conversation paused as the waiter came by with another round of drinks. “Well, I suppose just a little,” she said, and then laughed. “You are far too good at sussing out lies. Fine, the life surprisingly has suited me. Even after all these years, I’m more than content with the, ah, career path. Retirement to a quiet house or life of academia is not in my future anytime soon, unless Marie-Ange is holding back.”
Leaning back, she looked over her drink at Kevin. She wore her age well, more than if she was being honest, but Kevin…well, he didn’t have the luxury or the curse. Depending on how you looked at it. “And you?”
"I decided on April 29th, 1962 that I had no intent to leave this life." The precise date drew a look and he waited for the waiter to leave. "I'd just finished my MBA from Harvard. Had a young wife, commitment to the Agency was only for another 2 years... and I'd make five times as much the day I moved into the private sector. I took a long look at the diploma and realized I didn't want to join DuPont or some other place and ride a desk trying to maximize a quarterly report. I hid it behind patriotism and duty, but the reality is, yeah, I like being out in the field. I like seeing direct results from what I do."
“The idea of you number crunching by way of abacus is incredibly distressing,” she teased, though she wasn’t joking about the idea of Kevin slogging through a routine job in the ‘50s being a strange one. “I agree, though. Being able to make things happen they way that only we can brings satisfaction. We can’t always save the day but, then again, no one can. We just try to put it to rights.”
"And, let's be honest, high minded ideals aside, where else do you get to travel the world, run crazy risks, regularly spend an afternoon nearly getting killed and then have dinner at a fine restaurant an hour later?" Kevin agreed, raising his glass briefly in a mock toast.
She toasted him back with a laugh. “That is the James Bond level of insanity that I wouldn’t be able to part with, of course.”
"Obviously we need supercars. I wonder if we can convince Frost?" He grinned. "So, you back now for the immediate future? Colbert didn't mention whether you had another deep cover assignment on the books yet."
“Add in a super motorcycle and I’ll be the first to start bribing Emma.” Leaning back in her seat, she nodded. “Thankfully, yes, it looks like I am home for the time being.” Wanda knocked on the wood. “Nothing currently seems to be brewing that would need such a complete dive into a role or cut off from everyone. So, you are stuck with me for the time being.” Wanda’s smile faded slightly. “It seems I keep managing to arrive back at the right time, at least.”
"I'll say. We have a lot of skilled people, but when we need to hit hard, you not being available limits our options." Kevin gave her a long look over his glass. "Also you're significantly more pleasant to spend a night out with than Maddicks or Ramsey.”
The look caught and piqued Wanda’s attention. “This is generally when most people wave off compliments but since I am delightful company, I don’t think I will,” she said. “You’re reminding me how nice it is to be back in more enjoyable company after all these months.”
"What, a European smuggling ring lacked good company? I am shocked. Shocked I say." Kevin joked.
Wanda laughed, the last of the stress and worry lines disappearing. “Whose to say that they weren’t the most charming smuggling rings we’d ever come across and that you still managed to be more charming?”
"It's that Chicago refined charm. It just sings out a polluted harbourfront, organized crime, and a city famous dish that is wholly inedible." Kevin replied lightly.
“Oh is that your secret? I promise I won’t tell a soul.” she teased. “I have always appreciated the suits you pick. If it’s lingering Chicago fashion, well, it’s absolutely still appreciated.”
"My suits are the easy part. They are one of the few things that following where the real money goes tends to be worth it. Women's fashion, on the other hand, is a bizarre and arcane process. Thank god those first few years, women with taste owed me favours."
“I can only imagine. And it’s something one has to keep up on, it changes so frequently. Men’s high end fashion changes some over the years but nowhere close.” Wanda gestured to the dress she’d chosen for their drinks out. “I would have been quite the scandal back in the 50’s and this is tame these days. I mean, it does have pockets and still allows for ease of breathing even after nearly being blown off a mountain all while still looking amazing.”
"You'd be surprised." Kevin gave her a wolfish smile. "I mean, I was dating through the 50s. You might have caused an incident in Peoria, but here in New York, mostly it would have been raised eyebrows, whistles, and a couple of suggestions for a very inappropriate transaction. Fortunately, I'm a gentleman and as such, my suggestions are only inappropriate as opposed to transactional."
“Well, I’m actually slightly disappointed to hear that. I do enjoy making a scene now and again.” Wanda grinned back at him. “And your suggestions are only inappropriate when they’re unwanted.” She took a sip of her drink but didn’t look away.
"Like why don't we have another drink and then find a place to make that dress properly scandalous?" Kevin said, taking a sip from his drink and leaning back in his seat.
“Now, see…” Wanda leaned back in her seat as the waiter, like magic, brought not only another round of their orders, but a bottle of wine. “That suggestion is absolutely appropriate and wanted,” she continued, leaning back towards Kevin.
Kevin tended to lurk throughout Manhattan for his drinking spots, but the economics had driven most of his dive-ry haunts to the other boroughs. As a result, he'd found himself working his way through options elsewhere, in this case, Brooklyn. While the Clover Club was more meant for expensive cocktail fans and parting Wall Street types who decided to cross the Hudson from their money, it was the bar that brought him back. Mahogany, running the length of the front, and had spent the first 70 years of its life in the bar at the Drake hotel. How it ended up in the Brooklyn bar was still a mystery, but Kevin wasn't about to miss a chance to revisit.
Fortunately, several very powerful executives with no idea they knew Kevin had him installed on both their tabs and for management to understand he was to be accommodated. As a result, a couple of reservations found themselves moved to different tables as he and Wanda took up seats in a nook at the end of the bar.
"When it comes to reservations, I am never going to question your ways," Wanda chuckled, picking up the Manhattan that the very prompt waiter had just left for her. "I haven't been to the Clover Club in ages - a lack of open reservations certainly being a factor."
In part, at least - constantly under cover overseas had been wreaking havoc on having a normal life. She’s been able to spend a bit of time home after the last time before heading out again. Cults were like roaches.
This last mission had been - interesting. Wanda was itching to get her into the books but, honestly, she was bruised and her powers battered. And she had missed this part of her life.
"One advantage of being a shapeshifter. A lot of influential people who have never met me oddly feel the need to hook me up." Kevin accepted his Tom Collins. "All goes on a tab with an excellent tip that neither of us will ever see. It's like Robin Hood, only mostly selfish and focused on myself."
She toasted him with her drink before taking a sip. "Well, I appreciate being your plus one and being able to reap the benefits. It's very handy to have associates who can never call in those favors. Though…our mutual friend says things aren’t quite forgiven. Though i think she at least tolerates me, which is nice.”
Update here about the last mission
"I always prefer to be the one owed favours. After all, that's part of our job." Kevin took a long sip. "How did the last sweep through Europe go? Any issues?"
"Which one? This last one… Only if you count nearly ending up running an entire cult yourself by the end of it a problem." She made a noise of disgust and waved her hand. "They were smuggling magical items like we thought but how they had managed to keep it under the radar for so long by being that inept, I will never understand. I went from new recruit to third in command in less than two months." Wanda shook her head. "That particular group has been taken care of. A week prior to coming back, a police raid just happened to occur after I got the rest of the items out of their hands. The police are having a field day, however -"
She smirked at Kevin, looking quite pleased with herself. "By the time I was done, they were no longer smuggling magical items but highly expensive and rare cheeses and their books clearly showed they'd been in operation for some time."
"So nothing to make the magical underground sniff around and frankly, the French cops are going to come down harder on them for smuggling cheese than they are for 'antiques'." Kevin grinned. "A deft bit of work there. You'd think you were meant for this life instead of the classroom."
She clinked her glass against his. “Hmm, just maybe. As thrilling as the idea is of fighting to get tenure and dealing with academics on the daily, I think I prefer getting shot at.”
"I've made some calls. There's a list of elite schools longer then my... well, really long, that would hire you on tenure track at whatever salary you asked in a heartbeat. Don't lie to a liar. You like the life."
Leaning back, Wanda's smile grew contemplative. The conversation paused as the waiter came by with another round of drinks. “Well, I suppose just a little,” she said, and then laughed. “You are far too good at sussing out lies. Fine, the life surprisingly has suited me. Even after all these years, I’m more than content with the, ah, career path. Retirement to a quiet house or life of academia is not in my future anytime soon, unless Marie-Ange is holding back.”
Leaning back, she looked over her drink at Kevin. She wore her age well, more than if she was being honest, but Kevin…well, he didn’t have the luxury or the curse. Depending on how you looked at it. “And you?”
"I decided on April 29th, 1962 that I had no intent to leave this life." The precise date drew a look and he waited for the waiter to leave. "I'd just finished my MBA from Harvard. Had a young wife, commitment to the Agency was only for another 2 years... and I'd make five times as much the day I moved into the private sector. I took a long look at the diploma and realized I didn't want to join DuPont or some other place and ride a desk trying to maximize a quarterly report. I hid it behind patriotism and duty, but the reality is, yeah, I like being out in the field. I like seeing direct results from what I do."
“The idea of you number crunching by way of abacus is incredibly distressing,” she teased, though she wasn’t joking about the idea of Kevin slogging through a routine job in the ‘50s being a strange one. “I agree, though. Being able to make things happen they way that only we can brings satisfaction. We can’t always save the day but, then again, no one can. We just try to put it to rights.”
"And, let's be honest, high minded ideals aside, where else do you get to travel the world, run crazy risks, regularly spend an afternoon nearly getting killed and then have dinner at a fine restaurant an hour later?" Kevin agreed, raising his glass briefly in a mock toast.
She toasted him back with a laugh. “That is the James Bond level of insanity that I wouldn’t be able to part with, of course.”
"Obviously we need supercars. I wonder if we can convince Frost?" He grinned. "So, you back now for the immediate future? Colbert didn't mention whether you had another deep cover assignment on the books yet."
“Add in a super motorcycle and I’ll be the first to start bribing Emma.” Leaning back in her seat, she nodded. “Thankfully, yes, it looks like I am home for the time being.” Wanda knocked on the wood. “Nothing currently seems to be brewing that would need such a complete dive into a role or cut off from everyone. So, you are stuck with me for the time being.” Wanda’s smile faded slightly. “It seems I keep managing to arrive back at the right time, at least.”
"I'll say. We have a lot of skilled people, but when we need to hit hard, you not being available limits our options." Kevin gave her a long look over his glass. "Also you're significantly more pleasant to spend a night out with than Maddicks or Ramsey.”
The look caught and piqued Wanda’s attention. “This is generally when most people wave off compliments but since I am delightful company, I don’t think I will,” she said. “You’re reminding me how nice it is to be back in more enjoyable company after all these months.”
"What, a European smuggling ring lacked good company? I am shocked. Shocked I say." Kevin joked.
Wanda laughed, the last of the stress and worry lines disappearing. “Whose to say that they weren’t the most charming smuggling rings we’d ever come across and that you still managed to be more charming?”
"It's that Chicago refined charm. It just sings out a polluted harbourfront, organized crime, and a city famous dish that is wholly inedible." Kevin replied lightly.
“Oh is that your secret? I promise I won’t tell a soul.” she teased. “I have always appreciated the suits you pick. If it’s lingering Chicago fashion, well, it’s absolutely still appreciated.”
"My suits are the easy part. They are one of the few things that following where the real money goes tends to be worth it. Women's fashion, on the other hand, is a bizarre and arcane process. Thank god those first few years, women with taste owed me favours."
“I can only imagine. And it’s something one has to keep up on, it changes so frequently. Men’s high end fashion changes some over the years but nowhere close.” Wanda gestured to the dress she’d chosen for their drinks out. “I would have been quite the scandal back in the 50’s and this is tame these days. I mean, it does have pockets and still allows for ease of breathing even after nearly being blown off a mountain all while still looking amazing.”
"You'd be surprised." Kevin gave her a wolfish smile. "I mean, I was dating through the 50s. You might have caused an incident in Peoria, but here in New York, mostly it would have been raised eyebrows, whistles, and a couple of suggestions for a very inappropriate transaction. Fortunately, I'm a gentleman and as such, my suggestions are only inappropriate as opposed to transactional."
“Well, I’m actually slightly disappointed to hear that. I do enjoy making a scene now and again.” Wanda grinned back at him. “And your suggestions are only inappropriate when they’re unwanted.” She took a sip of her drink but didn’t look away.
"Like why don't we have another drink and then find a place to make that dress properly scandalous?" Kevin said, taking a sip from his drink and leaning back in his seat.
“Now, see…” Wanda leaned back in her seat as the waiter, like magic, brought not only another round of their orders, but a bottle of wine. “That suggestion is absolutely appropriate and wanted,” she continued, leaning back towards Kevin.
