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Jessica was flat out unconscious when the annoying phone began to ring. She ignored it hoping it would just go to voice mail. No such luck. When it did the phone just started ringing again.
She didn't need to look at who it was. Only one person did that to her. She groaned and picked up the phone.
"What?" she groaned.
"And hello to you too," Trish snarked back. "What's going on Jess? I haven't heard from you in over a week."
"I was going to call this weekend," Jessica replied. "But I got turned into a horse."
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, okay, I know you can come up with better excuses than that."
Jess sighed. "Right. I just didn't want to talk to you because your ever shining example of hard work and moral guidance would put a damper on me having hooves, a mane and a magnifying glass tattooed on my ass."
"Fine. Whatever," Trish groaned. "When are you coming back."
"Not sure. I'm sticking around for a while," Jess said finally pulling herself out of bed. "I've got a job. Mostly. And I'm going to work remotely from here for a while."
"So you can duck out of any kind of responsibility," Trish countered. "People here need you Jess."
"No, they want some super-powered asshole to beat the shit out of someone they don't like," Jessica replied. "And if they want that, they can go elsewhere."
"Not everyone wants you to be a vigilante. People are showing up at your office asking for help."
Jessica reached over to the bottle of whiskey on her bedside table and began to pour herself a drink. "And how do you know that?"
"Malcolm called. People are knocking on his door now and asking for help, Jess. And he's actually trying to help them."
Jessica rolled her eyes and groaned. "Well, then he's an idiot. He has no fucking clue what he's getting into."
"He's been trying to call you as well," Trish said, continuing her usual 'big-sibling' lecture. "You should at least call him back."
Jessica sighed. "Fine. I'll call him back. Do you have his number?"
Trish rattled off the number as Jessica put it into her favorite list.
"So another thing-"
"Sorry, Trish. I'm going into a tunn-"
And with that, Jessica ended the call. She poured herself a glass of whiskey and then dialed Malcolm's number. It rang a few times before he finally answered.
"Hello?"
"What the fuck are you doing?" Jessica asked.
"Jessica! I've been trying to-"
"Yeah. Whatever. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Don't get involved in anyone looking for me to work for them."
"I'm not! Look, they go to your door and knock and then they come to mine. What am I supposed to do?"
"Tell them to fuck off," Jessica said, gulping down her drink and pouring another."
"Yeah. That's not working," Malcolm snarked back. "And there are some people who really need help."
"Like who?"
"Hang on. I've got a list," Malcolm replied, rustling papers in the background.
Jessica groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, fuck. Really? You're taking down numbers?"
"Jess, some of these people really need help."
"How many of them just want me to beat the shit out of someone?" Jessica asked.
"Uh. The majority."
"Tell them to fuck off. How many want me to catch their significant other cheating on them?"
"A slightly less number than the majority. Actually some of them are part of them who they want you to beat the shit out of," Malcolm said. Jessica could hear more papers being shuffled around.
Jessica sighed and started doing some mental calculations. She did need money. And while the job she had here would cover her rent at her new apartment she still needed to cover some expenses for her apartment/office back in New York. "Any of them actually need help?"
"There's a guy who can't find his mom. She's not completely with it and the police aren't doing anything to find her."
Jessica looked around her hotel room as if looking for an excuse not to take the case. "Fine. Send me the information but I'm not coming back to the city any time soon. If you want to help this guy, then you're going to have to do some legwork."
"Really?" Malcolm asked, sounding surprised and elated at the same time. "Are you giving me a job?"
"I'll pay you an hourly wage as long as you don't fuck things up," Jessica said, wincing a bit at the thought of working for someone else. "It may take a bit of time to pay you. Stick around and I'll show you some of the methods I use and eventually you can get your own license."
"That's great! Jess, I can't tell you how much-"
"Yeah, whatever."
Jessica ended the call abruptly and rummaging through her bag to find clean clothes... okay, semi-clean clothes and get ready for the day.
[NFI.]
She didn't need to look at who it was. Only one person did that to her. She groaned and picked up the phone.
"What?" she groaned.
"And hello to you too," Trish snarked back. "What's going on Jess? I haven't heard from you in over a week."
"I was going to call this weekend," Jessica replied. "But I got turned into a horse."
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, okay, I know you can come up with better excuses than that."
Jess sighed. "Right. I just didn't want to talk to you because your ever shining example of hard work and moral guidance would put a damper on me having hooves, a mane and a magnifying glass tattooed on my ass."
"Fine. Whatever," Trish groaned. "When are you coming back."
"Not sure. I'm sticking around for a while," Jess said finally pulling herself out of bed. "I've got a job. Mostly. And I'm going to work remotely from here for a while."
"So you can duck out of any kind of responsibility," Trish countered. "People here need you Jess."
"No, they want some super-powered asshole to beat the shit out of someone they don't like," Jessica replied. "And if they want that, they can go elsewhere."
"Not everyone wants you to be a vigilante. People are showing up at your office asking for help."
Jessica reached over to the bottle of whiskey on her bedside table and began to pour herself a drink. "And how do you know that?"
"Malcolm called. People are knocking on his door now and asking for help, Jess. And he's actually trying to help them."
Jessica rolled her eyes and groaned. "Well, then he's an idiot. He has no fucking clue what he's getting into."
"He's been trying to call you as well," Trish said, continuing her usual 'big-sibling' lecture. "You should at least call him back."
Jessica sighed. "Fine. I'll call him back. Do you have his number?"
Trish rattled off the number as Jessica put it into her favorite list.
"So another thing-"
"Sorry, Trish. I'm going into a tunn-"
And with that, Jessica ended the call. She poured herself a glass of whiskey and then dialed Malcolm's number. It rang a few times before he finally answered.
"Hello?"
"What the fuck are you doing?" Jessica asked.
"Jessica! I've been trying to-"
"Yeah. Whatever. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Don't get involved in anyone looking for me to work for them."
"I'm not! Look, they go to your door and knock and then they come to mine. What am I supposed to do?"
"Tell them to fuck off," Jessica said, gulping down her drink and pouring another."
"Yeah. That's not working," Malcolm snarked back. "And there are some people who really need help."
"Like who?"
"Hang on. I've got a list," Malcolm replied, rustling papers in the background.
Jessica groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, fuck. Really? You're taking down numbers?"
"Jess, some of these people really need help."
"How many of them just want me to beat the shit out of someone?" Jessica asked.
"Uh. The majority."
"Tell them to fuck off. How many want me to catch their significant other cheating on them?"
"A slightly less number than the majority. Actually some of them are part of them who they want you to beat the shit out of," Malcolm said. Jessica could hear more papers being shuffled around.
Jessica sighed and started doing some mental calculations. She did need money. And while the job she had here would cover her rent at her new apartment she still needed to cover some expenses for her apartment/office back in New York. "Any of them actually need help?"
"There's a guy who can't find his mom. She's not completely with it and the police aren't doing anything to find her."
Jessica looked around her hotel room as if looking for an excuse not to take the case. "Fine. Send me the information but I'm not coming back to the city any time soon. If you want to help this guy, then you're going to have to do some legwork."
"Really?" Malcolm asked, sounding surprised and elated at the same time. "Are you giving me a job?"
"I'll pay you an hourly wage as long as you don't fuck things up," Jessica said, wincing a bit at the thought of working for someone else. "It may take a bit of time to pay you. Stick around and I'll show you some of the methods I use and eventually you can get your own license."
"That's great! Jess, I can't tell you how much-"
"Yeah, whatever."
Jessica ended the call abruptly and rummaging through her bag to find clean clothes... okay, semi-clean clothes and get ready for the day.
[NFI.]