Log: Kevin & Jubilee
Jun. 10th, 2026 02:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logs Backdated to some time last month
Kevin in the field wasn't Kevin in the mansion. Kevin in the mansion was relaxed, jovial, and indulgent. Kevin in the field was a task master. Him showing up in her flop cover room in Madripoor wasn't a good sign. He tipped his local bottle of rum into a glass of dire red wine as he sat in the one decent chair as she arrived.
“Kevin,”
Jubilee eyed him as she jumped down from the window and took a quick look around. She dropped the slim line pack she’d been wearing on the bed before turning back to him.
“I don’t remember fucking anything up lately, so it can’t be that. What’s going on?”
"This isn't a dressing down. It's a response." He said as he took a sip and winced. "Ah, Madripoor. You've been doing well lately. Buttoned up. Operationally effective. It means you're ready for the next step."
“I’m not giving you a kidney,”
Jubilee paced over to the battered beer fridge in what had been called a ‘modern answer to timeless convenance’ but mostly looked like a poor attempt to jury rig a kitchenette.
She pulled a marble soda out and leant back against it after.
“So what does that look like exactly? Next steps, that is.”
"Coming home. I need you in the office more. We need to start building a broader range of networks around you and you delegating your other work to other agents. You'll still need to do fieldwork, but we're wasting your experience with you in deep cover for weeks in Madripoor."
“I’m not great at being in one spot for overlong,” Jubilee shared, taking a long drink of her soda. “Too much energy, and not a lot of reasonable outlets.”
It wasn’t that home, or at least the idea of it wasn’t a draw. It definitely was, as was the idea of being trusted with more responsibility. It’s something she’d craved for awhile. But she was also well aware of her own faults.
"You know, I once told my handler that. His response? Get over it." Kevin said, taking another sip and grimacing. "He was a piece of garbage who had wives on three continents, but he wasn't wrong about that point. Get. Over. It. We're not a big enough shop to have senior people doing the Mickey Mouse stuff any more."
If they’d been home, Jubilee would have taken the time to give him any number of old man jokes but they weren’t at home, and she wasn’t that Jubilee here.
“Got it.”
She had very little in the way of anything actually with her that couldn’t be abandoned, or trusted to Kevin to mop up. She finished off the last of the soda and launched it at the bin.
“Business class?” She asked after a minute with a hopeful lilt.
"Tell me what you learned here to justify it." Kevin said mildly.
“Someone new is calling themselves the Mandarin,” Jubilee replied without even pausing, falling into the cadence of her normal reports. “I don’t have a name yet but I do know it’s not any of the current names we know.”
"You just got job one done." Kevin said, "Your first job back in New York is putting surveillance on that."
Kevin in the field wasn't Kevin in the mansion. Kevin in the mansion was relaxed, jovial, and indulgent. Kevin in the field was a task master. Him showing up in her flop cover room in Madripoor wasn't a good sign. He tipped his local bottle of rum into a glass of dire red wine as he sat in the one decent chair as she arrived.
“Kevin,”
Jubilee eyed him as she jumped down from the window and took a quick look around. She dropped the slim line pack she’d been wearing on the bed before turning back to him.
“I don’t remember fucking anything up lately, so it can’t be that. What’s going on?”
"This isn't a dressing down. It's a response." He said as he took a sip and winced. "Ah, Madripoor. You've been doing well lately. Buttoned up. Operationally effective. It means you're ready for the next step."
“I’m not giving you a kidney,”
Jubilee paced over to the battered beer fridge in what had been called a ‘modern answer to timeless convenance’ but mostly looked like a poor attempt to jury rig a kitchenette.
She pulled a marble soda out and leant back against it after.
“So what does that look like exactly? Next steps, that is.”
"Coming home. I need you in the office more. We need to start building a broader range of networks around you and you delegating your other work to other agents. You'll still need to do fieldwork, but we're wasting your experience with you in deep cover for weeks in Madripoor."
“I’m not great at being in one spot for overlong,” Jubilee shared, taking a long drink of her soda. “Too much energy, and not a lot of reasonable outlets.”
It wasn’t that home, or at least the idea of it wasn’t a draw. It definitely was, as was the idea of being trusted with more responsibility. It’s something she’d craved for awhile. But she was also well aware of her own faults.
"You know, I once told my handler that. His response? Get over it." Kevin said, taking another sip and grimacing. "He was a piece of garbage who had wives on three continents, but he wasn't wrong about that point. Get. Over. It. We're not a big enough shop to have senior people doing the Mickey Mouse stuff any more."
If they’d been home, Jubilee would have taken the time to give him any number of old man jokes but they weren’t at home, and she wasn’t that Jubilee here.
“Got it.”
She had very little in the way of anything actually with her that couldn’t be abandoned, or trusted to Kevin to mop up. She finished off the last of the soda and launched it at the bin.
“Business class?” She asked after a minute with a hopeful lilt.
"Tell me what you learned here to justify it." Kevin said mildly.
“Someone new is calling themselves the Mandarin,” Jubilee replied without even pausing, falling into the cadence of her normal reports. “I don’t have a name yet but I do know it’s not any of the current names we know.”
"You just got job one done." Kevin said, "Your first job back in New York is putting surveillance on that."
