Bobbi Morse (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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xp_logs2024-10-06 08:21 pm
xp_mockingbird) wrote in xp_logs2024-10-06 08:21 pm
Entry tags:
Log - Bobbi and Garrison, Sunday evening
Garrison accompanies Bobbi on a stakeout, where more than an average amount of food discussion is had around catching up in general.
"I can't remember the last time I did this," Bobbi said, popping another pistachio nut into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully while looking out the car window, still seeing no sign of her target. Information came in on an old file she'd had before joining the X-Men, and if she could get some confirmation on this guy's location she'd be able to bring a resolution to things for her client.
"Thanks for agreeing to come along, by the by," she added to her passenger, offering the opened bag of nuts to him once again. "S'been a minute since I've had a good stakeout, and they're way more tolerable with good company."
"Yeah, but you got me instead." Kane joked as he selected a nut. They were the classic unshelled ones with the red dye and both of them already looked like they were trying to do Batman cosplay with their smeared lips. The wolf poked his head over the seats from the back but Kane shushed him back. "There are no good stakeouts. It combines all the worst parts of a drive-in movie."
"Beggars can't be choosers," she said with a shrug. "Though I've gotta disagree with you there, they're not all that bad... mostly..." Bobbi trailed off. "Ok, they've often boring as hell, but again, if you're not alone then it's more tolerable. And not everyone has a wolf with them either," she added, grinning as said wolf peeked over the seats. "...does he like pistachios?"
"No junk food for him." Kane tossed a handful of the venison jerky he bought from a guy in town. "He likes everything he's not supposed to. Someone keeps feeding him my dill pickle chips."
"Someone's doing you a favour," Bobbi said with a shake of her head and a wrinkling of her nose. "Is that one of those Canadian flavours? What's the good one again?" she asked, mostly teasing him, but there was one that she liked. "Almost dressed up, yeah? That one was fire, as the kids say... Iiiii probably shouldn't say what the kids say, huh?"
"We're both too old to be hip or cool ever again. But you're going to be married into enough money to rent out the Grammys for your birthday party and I- I have that unique post-Canadian excuse that after Gordie died, music ceased to matter." Kane said, mock seriously. "I'll keep a bag of All-Dressed for you. Wait, is that-" Kane pulled up his binoculars and then put them down. "Nope. UberEats driver."
"Awesome, I'd appreciate that," she started, then paused as Kane looked out the window, sighing when it was a false alarm. "That's what we should do, order something out. That'd be inconspicuous, right?" Bobbi asked with a smirk. "Though for the record I'd be more of a 'rent out the Oscars' kinda girl than the Grammys, just so you know."
"See, I remember when she'd trade a ticket to the Junos for a little over the bra action." Kane said, fake wistfully. He took another handful of nuts. "We can eat when we're done. Our spot is pretty isolated for being so close. Having delivery would be.. problematic. Although, fuck, now I want a calzone."
"Those were the days," she agreed and sighed in harmony with his statement. "Though hell, now I'd definitely exchange that for a calzone since you've put that into my head," Bobbi admitted before taking another fistful of pistachios herself.
"So, not to derail the conversation from all the food talk, how're you holding up?" she ventured between mouthfuls.
"I feel like myself for the first time in a couple of years. I don't really know exactly what happened, but it feels like a whole bunch of mental scar tissue got wiped out when they brought me back. If it wasn't for Jean's power burnout, I'd say I have no complaints right now."
"Mm," she replied, glad to hear the first part but not the last. "That is definitely not a good thing, but she'll be fine. She's Jean, after all," Bobbi ventured, not that she really knew anything about it, this case specifically or how psychic-type powers worked at all, though she was confident that the Jean she knew would bounce back. "All in good time," she added, checking her watch to see how they were making out in respect to time themselves.
"OK, if they're not out in the next thirty minutes, I think we have to accept they're in for the night and pull the goalie. I texted a friend in the Field Office. She's sending down a car to relieve us at the top of the hour."
"Agreed," Bobbi replied with a sigh. "Then we go get calzones, yeah? Ooh, unless they'll bring some to us?" she added with a hopeful look and a slap on Kane's shoulder. Maybe that was asking too much but hey, he'd planted the seed after all.
"We'll go get them. Afterall, we don't need to compromise an investigation for-" Kane said. "Shirts back on. I have the right calzone place in mind."
"Shut up," she replied, more invested than she thought she'd be, or probably had any right to be. "Where? Never mind, it's a done deal once we're finished here," Bobbi said with a nod. "Maybe I'll get one to go to bring home to Warren... think he's ever had one before?" she asked, mostly joking but, well. It was Warren they were talking about, after all.
"Everytime someone asks, I tell them you're marrying him for his money. The worst part of that is I think you're marrying him because you actually love him. Which means, based on what I know about you, he's got something worthwhile there. And I'm dating Jean, who is the clearest indication that he doesn't have anything worthwhile." Kane threw up his hands. "So fine, I'll buy that fuck a calzone. But brunch is still out... for now."
"I can't remember the last time I did this," Bobbi said, popping another pistachio nut into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully while looking out the car window, still seeing no sign of her target. Information came in on an old file she'd had before joining the X-Men, and if she could get some confirmation on this guy's location she'd be able to bring a resolution to things for her client.
"Thanks for agreeing to come along, by the by," she added to her passenger, offering the opened bag of nuts to him once again. "S'been a minute since I've had a good stakeout, and they're way more tolerable with good company."
"Yeah, but you got me instead." Kane joked as he selected a nut. They were the classic unshelled ones with the red dye and both of them already looked like they were trying to do Batman cosplay with their smeared lips. The wolf poked his head over the seats from the back but Kane shushed him back. "There are no good stakeouts. It combines all the worst parts of a drive-in movie."
"Beggars can't be choosers," she said with a shrug. "Though I've gotta disagree with you there, they're not all that bad... mostly..." Bobbi trailed off. "Ok, they've often boring as hell, but again, if you're not alone then it's more tolerable. And not everyone has a wolf with them either," she added, grinning as said wolf peeked over the seats. "...does he like pistachios?"
"No junk food for him." Kane tossed a handful of the venison jerky he bought from a guy in town. "He likes everything he's not supposed to. Someone keeps feeding him my dill pickle chips."
"Someone's doing you a favour," Bobbi said with a shake of her head and a wrinkling of her nose. "Is that one of those Canadian flavours? What's the good one again?" she asked, mostly teasing him, but there was one that she liked. "Almost dressed up, yeah? That one was fire, as the kids say... Iiiii probably shouldn't say what the kids say, huh?"
"We're both too old to be hip or cool ever again. But you're going to be married into enough money to rent out the Grammys for your birthday party and I- I have that unique post-Canadian excuse that after Gordie died, music ceased to matter." Kane said, mock seriously. "I'll keep a bag of All-Dressed for you. Wait, is that-" Kane pulled up his binoculars and then put them down. "Nope. UberEats driver."
"Awesome, I'd appreciate that," she started, then paused as Kane looked out the window, sighing when it was a false alarm. "That's what we should do, order something out. That'd be inconspicuous, right?" Bobbi asked with a smirk. "Though for the record I'd be more of a 'rent out the Oscars' kinda girl than the Grammys, just so you know."
"See, I remember when she'd trade a ticket to the Junos for a little over the bra action." Kane said, fake wistfully. He took another handful of nuts. "We can eat when we're done. Our spot is pretty isolated for being so close. Having delivery would be.. problematic. Although, fuck, now I want a calzone."
"Those were the days," she agreed and sighed in harmony with his statement. "Though hell, now I'd definitely exchange that for a calzone since you've put that into my head," Bobbi admitted before taking another fistful of pistachios herself.
"So, not to derail the conversation from all the food talk, how're you holding up?" she ventured between mouthfuls.
"I feel like myself for the first time in a couple of years. I don't really know exactly what happened, but it feels like a whole bunch of mental scar tissue got wiped out when they brought me back. If it wasn't for Jean's power burnout, I'd say I have no complaints right now."
"Mm," she replied, glad to hear the first part but not the last. "That is definitely not a good thing, but she'll be fine. She's Jean, after all," Bobbi ventured, not that she really knew anything about it, this case specifically or how psychic-type powers worked at all, though she was confident that the Jean she knew would bounce back. "All in good time," she added, checking her watch to see how they were making out in respect to time themselves.
"OK, if they're not out in the next thirty minutes, I think we have to accept they're in for the night and pull the goalie. I texted a friend in the Field Office. She's sending down a car to relieve us at the top of the hour."
"Agreed," Bobbi replied with a sigh. "Then we go get calzones, yeah? Ooh, unless they'll bring some to us?" she added with a hopeful look and a slap on Kane's shoulder. Maybe that was asking too much but hey, he'd planted the seed after all.
"We'll go get them. Afterall, we don't need to compromise an investigation for-" Kane said. "Shirts back on. I have the right calzone place in mind."
"Shut up," she replied, more invested than she thought she'd be, or probably had any right to be. "Where? Never mind, it's a done deal once we're finished here," Bobbi said with a nod. "Maybe I'll get one to go to bring home to Warren... think he's ever had one before?" she asked, mostly joking but, well. It was Warren they were talking about, after all.
"Everytime someone asks, I tell them you're marrying him for his money. The worst part of that is I think you're marrying him because you actually love him. Which means, based on what I know about you, he's got something worthwhile there. And I'm dating Jean, who is the clearest indication that he doesn't have anything worthwhile." Kane threw up his hands. "So fine, I'll buy that fuck a calzone. But brunch is still out... for now."