MHA #5 - Monday Morning
Feb. 22nd, 2021 12:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
superjoanjettWith everyone in Japan or elsewhere, Jessica felt like she had the island almost all to herself. Even when she hit the perk yesterday, Jess didn't have to wait in line and the barista didn't even judge her for pouring whiskey into her coffee.
So she was enjoying sleeping in today. Rosa wouldn't know if she was late to the office and it hardly mattered anyway. All that was going on there was the stupid bee lady.
But her plan to sleep in was quickly dashed by the multiple texts and buzzes coming from Trish.
Holy shit. Did you see the news last night?
Is that him? Is that the guy you were telling me about?
Jess? Are you awake?
Jess?
Jess?
Wake the fuck up Jess!
She groaned and pulled herself vertical and fumbled with the phone before calling her back.
"What?"
The sigh on the other end of the line was enormous. "Did you not see the link I sent you?"
"I don't even have pants on. Why would I even be looking at your stupid you tube videos?" Jessica groaned in response. And then looked down on the floor. Where the hell were her pants?
"Jess. Seriously. A building exploded in Harlem last night."
That gave Jessica pause. "Okay. And what does that have to do with me getting out of bed?"
Trish let out a very long groan. "Just look at the clip I sent you," she replied. "Call me later."
Swearing a bit about the hour, Jessica first found a bottle of wild fowl and took a gulp to get herself started in the morning. And then she start going back through the stream of texts from Trish to find the actual link."
The newscaster was live on the scene. Or at least live when the broadcast had was filmed. She started chattering about a gas explosion at a Chinese restaurant and survivors and blah blah blah and Jess began to tune out, tossing the phone on her beside table until she finally heard a familiar voice.
She stumbled back to the phone and swiped backwards.
The female reporter was chasing after a man in a hoodie. A tall man in a hoodie. "Excuse me? Excuse me, sir? I've been hearing some pretty micaculous things about you surviving that explosion. You saved the owner's life."
The man in the hoodie kept walking saying nothing. Inwardly Jessica hope he just kept walking and didn't turn around.
"Why don't you just tell us your name?"
He stopped walking and Jessica noticed her hand was trembling a bit. He turned around to face the camera pullling back his hoodie showing an African American male with a shaved head and a neatly trimmed beard. He stared at the camera for a moment before answering. "My name is Luke Cage."
Jessica suddenly realized she was holding her breath. "God fucking damn it. What are you doing?" she asked aloud to absolutely nobody. She tossed the phone back on the bedside table and sat down on the bed, feeling her head to begin to spin.
Jess hadn't seen him since the night she took down Kilgrave. He was unconscious in her apartment with that weird nurse looking after him. There was part of her that was relieved to see him but the other part of her was filled with guilt and... well. More guilt.
She had his number. She could call. Talk with him. If shit was going down in Harlem maybe she could even help.
Of course the last time they were trying to help each other she ended up shooting him in the head.
She sat there for a good five minutes staring at the phone.
And finally, instead of calling him, she went to go find her pants.
[Open for phone calls or whatever.]
So she was enjoying sleeping in today. Rosa wouldn't know if she was late to the office and it hardly mattered anyway. All that was going on there was the stupid bee lady.
But her plan to sleep in was quickly dashed by the multiple texts and buzzes coming from Trish.
Holy shit. Did you see the news last night?
Is that him? Is that the guy you were telling me about?
Jess? Are you awake?
Jess?
Jess?
Wake the fuck up Jess!
She groaned and pulled herself vertical and fumbled with the phone before calling her back.
"What?"
The sigh on the other end of the line was enormous. "Did you not see the link I sent you?"
"I don't even have pants on. Why would I even be looking at your stupid you tube videos?" Jessica groaned in response. And then looked down on the floor. Where the hell were her pants?
"Jess. Seriously. A building exploded in Harlem last night."
That gave Jessica pause. "Okay. And what does that have to do with me getting out of bed?"
Trish let out a very long groan. "Just look at the clip I sent you," she replied. "Call me later."
Swearing a bit about the hour, Jessica first found a bottle of wild fowl and took a gulp to get herself started in the morning. And then she start going back through the stream of texts from Trish to find the actual link."
The newscaster was live on the scene. Or at least live when the broadcast had was filmed. She started chattering about a gas explosion at a Chinese restaurant and survivors and blah blah blah and Jess began to tune out, tossing the phone on her beside table until she finally heard a familiar voice.
She stumbled back to the phone and swiped backwards.
The female reporter was chasing after a man in a hoodie. A tall man in a hoodie. "Excuse me? Excuse me, sir? I've been hearing some pretty micaculous things about you surviving that explosion. You saved the owner's life."
The man in the hoodie kept walking saying nothing. Inwardly Jessica hope he just kept walking and didn't turn around.
"Why don't you just tell us your name?"
He stopped walking and Jessica noticed her hand was trembling a bit. He turned around to face the camera pullling back his hoodie showing an African American male with a shaved head and a neatly trimmed beard. He stared at the camera for a moment before answering. "My name is Luke Cage."
Jessica suddenly realized she was holding her breath. "God fucking damn it. What are you doing?" she asked aloud to absolutely nobody. She tossed the phone back on the bedside table and sat down on the bed, feeling her head to begin to spin.
Jess hadn't seen him since the night she took down Kilgrave. He was unconscious in her apartment with that weird nurse looking after him. There was part of her that was relieved to see him but the other part of her was filled with guilt and... well. More guilt.
She had his number. She could call. Talk with him. If shit was going down in Harlem maybe she could even help.
Of course the last time they were trying to help each other she ended up shooting him in the head.
She sat there for a good five minutes staring at the phone.
And finally, instead of calling him, she went to go find her pants.
[Open for phone calls or whatever.]
