Jessica Haines

( ...5,6,7,8! )

Please note that as of November 14th 2009 this journal will be restarting

( Travels )

[Takes place before this]

The selections for the smoothie shop Connor had discovered were written in hot pink Magic Marker on a white bulletin board high up on the wall behind the counter. There were four blenders lined up an a narrower expanse of wood, awaiting use as orders were taken by two college-aged girls in black aprons.The Destroyer finally decided on the peanut butter with an extra protein blast, then waited while the large cup was filled with the icy concoction. He had a paper tucked under his left arm, having decided to get proactive about the job search thing sooner rather than later, and once he'd gotten his order he took the cup to a table in the back and unfolded the newspaper to the classifieds section. If all else failed, he could always go back to construction, but it was better to check out other options too.

The door was open because the day was warm outside, and the breeze smelled slightly of exhaust as Connor absently took a ballpoint pen from his pocket and uncapped it. Chicago seemed to not lack for chances of employment. He was young and able-bodied, not to mention a fast learner. He'd find something.

Since coming to the small smoothie shop with Connor, Jessica had discovered a love for the ice-drinks, even if they did give her brain freeze each and every time she drank them. She wandered into the shop and gave the server a smile. Today was a good day.

( Unexpected meetings )

( A Brief Catch Up )

( Discomfort )

The cold of the Chicago nights didn't seem so bad tonight. In fact, nothing seemed so bad that Jessica couldn't handle it. She didn't know how it had happened, but she felt the way she had before, when she knew that she was important, that she had a purpose. The healing cut on her jaw - thankfully healed enough now that it was just a long, thin line, not as angry looking as it had been - didn't bother her, nor did the sharp ache of her ribs with each step.

She walked confidently through the streets, a small smile sitting on her lips. She knew she was turning heads, and she caught a couple of eyes as she passed staring men, offering them flirtatious smiles, eyes making promises she had no intention of keeping. She knew exactly where she was n long enough, but Jessica was finally healed to a point that she wanted to take Tseng up on his offer of movies and popcorn. She had a packet of microwaveable popcorn in her bag along with some candy as she made her way toward his apartment. There were couples sitting at tables on the sidewalk outside restaurants, wrapped up in each other to the exclusion of the world around them. 

Whatever, she didn't care; she was going to watch movies with a really awesome guy, who had been so sweet and tender in looking after her when she'd been injured, even though he didn't have to. She enjoyed being around him and right now, she had the confidence to suggest - or even make a move for - more.

She didn't know what had made her decide to screw being worried about how she looked in comparison to the other girls in this world, but whatever it was, she wasn't going to knock it.

( Do you always greet your guests this way? )

( Soda and A Movie )

( Distracted )

( A Matter of Want. (Adult Content: Explicit Sexuality) )

Jessica was dragging her feet when she came into the Fairmont, the artificial lights hurting her eyes since she'd been at work and walked two blocks from where the cab driver had dropped her off since he was just about to finish his shift and couldn't take her the extra distance. Her side was aching and her head hurt, but luckily, work hadn't been too bad.

Mainly because the other staff had taken it upon themselves to be rather protective over her and leaping on any kind of trouble before it started. One of the guys kicked a patron out for making a comment about the fading cut on her jaw.

She scratched at it absently as she pushed her way in through the doors, smiling at the doorman and heading past the front desk towards the stairs when she heard her name being called.

"Uh, Miss Haines?" the receptionist, Dara, called, "There's a package for you."

( There is? )

It wasn't hard to find herself wondering what Connor had said to Faith that had made her react so violently towards Jessica. And briefly, she found herself doubting her own reactions, her own logic. Had she been wrong to walk away from Connor?

No.

She twisted her upper body, kicking at the nearest thing which just happened to be a newspaper stand. The force of the kick, the pressure of her heel cause the metal to clunk noisily, a small dent appearing in it and the shock going all the way up her leg, right to her hip and lower back.

( Justified )

( Voicemail for Connor // Voicemail for Bethany )

Jessica was tense.

The nights were cold and she was in a close-fitting coat, a pair of tights on underneath her sweatpants as she walked along the darkened streets. It was late too, the last few stragglers hurrying home. She had a blade and a stake, twirling the wooden object between her fingers as she moved along on a makeshift patrol.

She hadn't been able to sleep, still too haunted by the episode in the elevator to be able to sleep for much longer than she already did. Her sneaker-clad feet made little noise as she moved, eyes open, though, apparently, nothing seemed to be out tonight, so the tension that was tight in Jessica's body, coiled like a spring ready to snap, would just have to stay there for a little longer until she found some other way of releasing it.

She hadn't had a good fight in ages, and whilst she was kind of enjoying not having bruises, she was starting to suffer the tension and the repression of the anger that she had felt at Connor's revelation. How hurt he had looked that she had reacted in such a way. How else was she supposed to react? What was he expecting, for her to just be able to push it all aside and ignore it? Forget the horrors and what had happened where she had come from?

Fat chance.

She needed to get rid of this somehow, it was just building up inside of her and she didn't want it to explode. Or implode. Either way, it would be messy. And she didn't want that to happen. Tonight, she wanted a fight, preferably with something not human, but a guy who got a little too handsy would do. There hadn't even been anyone she could have beaten up at work either, the guys at Bethany's club apparently being able to sense how pissed off she was and were sticking clear of the dancers.

Pausing to get her bearings, Jessica leaned against a lamppost and breathed out slowly, watching her breath hanging in the air, feeling the cold stinging her nose, cheeks and lungs every time she breathed in.

There was vampire dust in Faith's hair, but that didn't concern her. It was a hazard of the job, and Faith didn't go out of her way to look pretty while slaying anymore. Not to mention, she was still too angry over whatever crawled up Connor's ass to worry about something so insignificant as a vampire's remains.

Turning a corner, the Slayer cracked her knuckles, glaring at a drunken man stumbling down the sidewalk who nearly barreled into her. Faith's patience had been wearing thin for the past day or so, and there was no telling what might set her off.

As much as Faith craved violence, she didn't exactly relish the idea of pounding on Sir Drinks-a-Lot.

Approaching a lamppost, Faith cocked an eyebrow, the female form underneath striking a chord of familiarity with the Slayer. Gloved hands nestled deeper into the pockets of her black fleece pullover, Faith's steps slowing. She'd only met this particular girl once before, and thought Faith remembered her not being hostile, things had been so out of whack lately, it wouldn't have surprised her if Jessica said hi with a fist to the nose.

"Jessica?" she called, trying to sound pleasant in spite of her mood. "You're not frozen to that post, are you?"

( A Mutual Friend )

( Shades of Grey )

( Two Wrongs... )

God, it was a relief to be out of that damned elevator. Jessica had just about stopped trembling and had reluctantly agreed to see Kathleen again to let the doctor look at her. But how far that was going to get in reality Jessica wasn't so sure. The idea of being so vulnerable to anyone wasn't one she was comfortable with.

She put the chain across the door to Oliver's suite once she was inside the room and made sure it was as locked up as it could possibly be. She wasn't going to admit that she was a little bit spooked. She had no reason to be spooked. Not at all. Not her, no way. Nu uh.

Really, what she needed was a long, hot shower and some bad TV to take her mind off everything. Off Connor and being trapped in an elevator - her hands were still shaking - and Tseng and everything that was confusing her even more. She didn't like being confused.

She flopped down onto the couch and toed out of her sneakers, curling her legs underneath her self as she flicked the television on, hugging a pillow against her chest. She tried not to jump at every random noise, but it was hard. She felt on edge and a lot like she was going to cry. She also felt very self-conscious, considering. She had switched out of her jacket into an oversized hoodie and wondered if she could get away with dressing like this all the time.

Well, almost all the time. Bethany would slaughter her if she turned up for work like that.

He had almost forgotten that the outside world existed. His grandmother's condition was such that she rarely left her room anymore, so he'd spoken with her doctors and gotten permission to move into the unoccupied quarters next to hers. To be there in case she needed him. To be there for when the time came.

It was the unidentified text message that had roused Oliver from his self-imposed exile. He'd stared at the phone for an hour before putting the device away, feeling an odd anticipatory chill at the edges of his consciousness. 'It's good to be alive! <3 HJF' No. No, it wasn't possible. Was it?

The spellcaster was sitting on the edge of his bed, contemplating shaving before his shower instead of after. He could hear Amelia's private nurse in the other room, nattering to the old woman about trivia while she tended to giving her her morning medication. He'd never seen so many pills before. He was going to read to her later. The Grapes of Wrath. She'd always been a big fan of Steinbeck.

He picked up the phone from its resting place on the nightstand, punched in the number back at the Fairmont. He'd been knee-deep in this, knee-deep in mourning, and he'd been neglectful. Listening to the ringing on the other end, he simply waited, girding himself to face the day.

( An unexpected phone call )

( Telling the story )

At the hotel gift shop, Kathleen paid the cashier for two one-liter bottles of spring water and a bottle of scented bath oil for later. She might have found a terrific hotel rate online for the Fairmont, but everything else associated with the hotel was very over priced in her opinion. There were bottles of water in the mini-refrigerator in her room, but there was no way she was going to pay 3 dollars for a 12 ounce bottle of Evian Spring Water.

She placed on top of her bags, the plastic sack from the gift shop next to her dinner for the night, a sandwich and a bag of chips from a sandwich shop. The bags and her military gear on the luggage cart were stacked haphazardly, if she had done the valet parking she might had a bell hop deliver her bags, but it would have been another expense that would have pushed near her daily per diem limit.

As she maneuvered the luggage cart through the lobby, she had only managed to run into one large potted plant and into the corner of a pillar. No damage, but totally made her flush with embarrassment when she got some looks from a group of business people chatting away at one of the seating areas. One gentleman had come to her assistant to help her pick up her duffel bag that rolled off the cart. She had not even noticed that her helmet had rolled under an end table, on her way to the elevator.

She rolled her cart into the elevator by herself and pressed the button for the nineteenth floor.

Jessica had shrugged out of her jacket as soon as she had stepped into the Fairmont. She was wearing a spaghetti-strap style top underneath her jacket and she ignored the looks she got from a couple of the men at the sight of the long, thin scar that stretched from the join of her neck and left shoulder all the way along to the end of it, and it forked out over her shoulder-blade and down a few inches there as well. It was one of many, and a lot of them were on display, but it was too hot to wear her jacket inside and she knew she would be disappearing towards the stairs and the safety of the suite soon enough. She offered a smile to the doorman - James this evening, who had a soft spot for her and always had something nice to say. He made a comment about the young man she had been seen with and a sympathetic smile at the expression that must have twisted onto her face. A pat on the shoulder would have lead to more platitudes but she was saved by a crashing sound near the elevators.

She saw a woman hit a plant and drop a couple of things, including a helmet. She lifted an eyebrow as it rolled pitifully to a stop and just went still, forgotten about and left on the floor. She waited for a couple of seconds to see if the woman would notice, but she didn't and Jessica excused herself to pick it up. Her feet carried her swiftly over to the helmet, snagging the material of the chin strap with two fingers, momentum barely stopping as she approached the elevator.

"Excuse me!" she called, not thinking her plan through before she stepped into the box, eyes assessing it for exits - the same way war veterans did - and staying close to the doors, but not close enough to activate the motion sensors that kept them open. "You dropped this." She held out the helmet just as the doors pinged shut behind her, closing.

Well, that wasn't good.

( Going up? )

( Trapped in an elevator )

( From 'around' )

( Power returns )

(set immediately after this)

Jessica had elected not to go home just yet. She walked in the cold, feeling the wind chill against her skin that made her duck her head and speed up as if she could escape the cold just by walking away from it. Like if she walked far enough, it wouldn't bother her anymore. She knew it wasn't true and things didn't happen like that, but she could at least try, right?

"I already told you, it was one phone call!" a man cried, exasperated, and Jessica slid into the shadows nearby, sharp brown eyes honing in on the arguing couple on the opposite side of the street. "One phone call, who was I supposed to use it for? I called my mom, she deserved to know before you did."

"What?" the woman shrieked, her voice rising in tone and pitch as Jessica watched. "I'm your wife, I deserve to know before anyone else! You get yourself busted for something stupid like that you call me!" She narrowed her eyes and hit him with her purse. "You should have told me you had a record. At least you could have told me before you got caught doing something stupid! You're such an idiot."

"Baby-" the guy started, reaching out with bare hands for his wife and Jessica saw the ring sitting on his left ring finger. Her hands folded together, thumb brushing over her ringless finger, wondering what it was like to have someone in your life that constantly, someone that you could trust with everything. "Baby, I didn't-"

"Oh, don't you 'baby' me, you ass, you're in a lot of trouble."

"I didn't want to tell you 'cause I was scared, okay?" he tried, taking hold of her upper arms and squeezing gently. Jessica saw the fabric creasing underneath his touch, not too hard but firm enough to have some kind of effect because she turned into him and moved a little closer.

Their conversation dropped to a lower level and Jessica couldn't hear it anymore, it was more intimate and she looked down, ignoring how apt her overhearing that conversation was considering the one she had just had with Connor. She stuffed her hands into her pockets again and kicked viciously at a stone, watching it skitter across the road and come to a halt, rolling over once more pathetically before surrendering and being still. She chewed on her lower lip and turned the corner to get away from the couple, taking brief shelter from the wind in a doorway and shivering.

She looked up at the surroundings and realised that she wasn't too far from the library. Her feet started taking her there automatically, her first thought being that she wanted to see a friendly face and someone that might be able to explain everything to her, but she realised that that plan was flawed for two reasons: one, the library was closed, two, Tseng had more than enough on his plate with the discovery of his other self.

She looked up at the sky and leaned against a nearby tree, watching the stars peeking through the clouds and wondering about theology, whether or not it was possible that there was some supreme being that created everything. She doubted it just because she had seen so many horrors it was so hard to believe that there was something that was so inherently good up there that would let all the bad things happen to people.

She watched a couple of people walk past before she started moving again, meandering her way back towards the Fairmont. Maybe she should start looking for somewhere else to live? It would be something she bought up with Oliver when he got home, she supposed. Whether or not he was happy for her to stay or if she should start trying to make her own way; she had a job and she was buying her own things now, but she couldn't stay with him indefinitely. What if he got bored of her or didn't like her anymore when he got back from his family? Perhaps she should start looking.

( Wishing for Normality )

( Losing her Senses )

( Voicemail for Tseng )

( Voicemail for Joseph )

After the events of New Year's eve, Jessica had wanted to see Connor to make sure that he was alright. It had been all over the news and she was briefly glad that she hadn't gone along. Then she realised that she should have helped, because that was what she did before, and her chance to finally find some kind of purpose outside of stopping people molesting dancers had just passed her by.

The wind was blowing gently, ruffling the strands of her hair that weren't hidden underneath her beanie. Her scarf was tucked up underneath her chin and she was actually quite warm. Her fingers were a little cold - she'd forgotten her gloves - but that was alright, really.

She was sat on a bench, one foot on the wood as she rested her chin on her knee and watched the people walk by. She had a polystyrene cup of hot chocolate that was warming her hands. The park was empty, even the hot-dog seller wasn't at his post. She was just waiting for Connor to join her. She rolled the cup between her hands and watched the few people that were out and about. Her breath was hanging in the air each time she breathed out.

He'd made a special effort with his clothes that night, putting on a suede jacket he'd bought at Village Thrift to go with his khaki pants and black button-down shirt. The bike he'd parked on the street, and he wondered if he and Jessica might not go for a ride later. They could even pick up some dinner someplace.

The park was nearly deserted, and the Destroyer spotted the brunette sitting on a bench with a white cup in her hands. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her at a distance, feeling the hopeful sensation return to perch on his shoulder. She was...hell, she was beautiful. Connor took a breath, steadied his nerves, finished closing the distance to take the seat next to her, their legs almost touching. "Hi."

( Idle Conversation )

( A Personal History Lesson )

( Should have said something )

There was snow on the ground. Jessica loved snow, and she hopped into a side alley that had been as yet untouched by human feet to press her footprints into the ground.

The chill that hung in the air meant that she could see her breath, and she smiled a little, side of her face aching slightly as she did so, watching the steam get caught by the wind and disappear. She stuck her hands back into her pockets and headed home, listening to the snow crunching beneath her feet and wondering if it would still be there in the morning. She'd never had a chance to enjoy such weather. She hoped that it would still be there so she could enjoy it when the sun came up, without the fear of monsters hanging over her shoulders.

Her new coat was pulled tight around her small frame, shielding her from the wind and the cold, though she could feel it burning at the tip of her nose and her lips when she wet them, cheeks already flushed from the cold. Her shoes were wet, the fabric of her sneakers not quite accustomed to such cold, dampness and as such, her toes were tingling. She would have to put the heating on when she got in, see if she couldn't dry everything out.

Slush sat at the edge of the road, white snow tarnished by the constant to and fro of the cars and feet, swept under by the apparent never-ending pace of the city. Jessica never thought she would find herself missing absolute silence. But sometimes... just sometimes, she did.

( Late night trips home )

The entire conversation with Faith had just made things worse, and when Connor left the Slayer's apartment he could feel the beginnings of a headache gathering above his left eye. He kick-started the Honda's engine with more energy than was absolutely necessary, speeding out of the parking lot and blending into traffic, barely hearing it as the drive of a Ford pick-up blew their horn and yelled obscenities after him. He felt like he was going to explode, as if the top of his head would simply come off.

He drove around aimlessly for a while, stopped to fill the tank at around midnight and then bought a soda, which he drank while sitting on the curb next to the bike, staring broodingly out at traffic. The face of the blonde girl he'd tried to save was still fresh in his mind, along with the nasty bastard of a vampire who'd killed her. And now Faith's was floating around in there too. Connor growled down in his chest, feeling new frustration with the world he lived in building up down in his guts.

When he was done with the soda, he chucked the into the nearest garbage can and made his way over to the pay phone where it sat under a lighted kiosk. Coins jingled as he rummaged through his pockets, coming up with several quarters. Stepping under the minimal shelter the kiosk gave, the Destroyer dropped money into the slot and punched in a number that by now was familiar to him. If Jessica was off on one of her wandering trips, he'd have to think of something else, but he needed to talk to someone who'd calm him, someone who might understand.

Luckily enough for Connor, Jessica had returned from one of her wandering trips about half an hour ago and was in the shower. She tipped her head when the phone went off and stumbled out, wrapping a towel around herself and trailing wet footprints through the suite and to the phone. She dried the side of her face off before she picked up the phone.

It was a start, at least she wasn't jumping every time the damn thing went off anymore?

"Hello?" she answered, almost quietly, like she was still afraid something was going to come down the phoneline. She had seen a fight between humans, been involved in one, even, her knuckles were aching a little from the force she had had to use to get the man off the dancer when she had been at work. She wasn't a Slayer, she healed slower. Her fingers tingled a little as she held the towel around herself.

"Jessica? Hi, um, it's...it's Connor."

( Can I come by? )

( An Attempt at Comfort )

The empty hotel room seemed so much bigger at night. Jessica had retreated to the comfort of her bedroom, door shut tight and the windows locked. She had managed to fall asleep pretty quickly, but it was restless, as always, her mind plagued with images and memories that not even time would be able to shake.

She tossed and turned, long, slender legs getting tangled in the sheets, imaginary hands holding her down as she struggled to get free, though as she struggled, all that happened was that the blankets got tighter. She couldn't breathe, couldn't escape.

The creatures were bearing down on her, biting and marking, draining the life from her body with an endless, boundless pleasure and she couldn't do anything, couldn't even scream.

Faces flashed in front of her eyes, the other members of her unit and then the people she had met here, in this place, watching them all get lost in a memory that was as vivid as ever, even with the addition of the people she had started to think of as friends.

She woke up with a strangled scream, whole body tensing as she scrambled away from the oppressive covers, sliding into a corner of the room, hair dishevelled and shoulders shaking. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, breathing deeply and listening to the beating of her heart, the speedy thump-thump that reminded her that she was alive and that she was still breathing. She could fight another day.

She scrubbed at her eyes, pressing the heels of her hands against the closed lids as if it would make the images still flashing in her mind go away. It didn't, and the harder she rubbed, the more they flashed in front of her, images of Oliver and Connor, even Bethany, tangling in with the people that had been lost or taken, the gleeful snarl of a friend when she had been turned and come back to seek revenge on the people that let her become a monster. She killed four people - two of them children - before Jessica put her down for good.

She looked at her hands, battle-marked and calloused and her shoulders shook again. The trembling rippled down to her fingers and she knew that as hard as she tried, she wouldn't be able to hold anything at that moment, she was shaking too much.

She hated her mind. She hated sleeping, because sleeping meant dreaming, and dreaming meant remembering things that she would rather just forget about forever. People that died, that she couldn’t save. The people she had killed because they would have held them back, the injured that had been shot and then left in the field.

A scream echoed in her ears and she shuddered, forcing herself to move, to get to her feet, but her still trembling limbs didn’t want to co-operate. She loathed being like this, being weak. Like she should be more considering her former position, this wasn’t befitting of a solider, to curl up a corner and cry, wish for a hug or some kind of comfort from someone after a bad dream. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t be strong all the time, no matter how hard she tried.

A few long moments later, she got to her feet and her hand slid underneath the pillow, fingers curling around the sheath that contained her knife. Once she had its reassuring weight in her hand, she moved into the lounge to curl up on the couch with a book.

She flicked the side light on and pulled the throw over her legs, fingers underneath the words as she started reading to herself. She had a pile of books that grew every couple of days as she became more advanced. Her lips moved, but no sound came out as she read through The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.

She found the irony of the children's predicament bought a smile to her lips. She knew how it felt to be displaced. It was nothing like the way it seemed in the book. The children didn't seem anywhere near as confused or scared as they should be.

Still, she turned the page, and the next one, and the one after that, over and over again until the sun came up and warmed the room, and with it, the tension that had been sitting in Jessica's shoulders melted away.

Sunlight.

Safe.

It was a fairly busy night, the club was packed and Jessica was just about getting over her shock at the fact that the women were dancing... like that. She wasn't surprised, really, she had heard stories of times before (not that there had been anything like this in the 1930s) and seen pictures of the old-style pin-up girls, but that was as far as her knowledge of this particular subject matter went. Still, she was standing outside Bethany's office all dressed up smart in her uniform and watching, head tipped to the side as men waved money at the dancers and Phil watched on the sidelines, arms folded, ready to jump in if there was any problem.

Mostly, she was just looking over the guests, making sure that none of the patrons got any ideas that they weren't supposed to be getting, and that she would be there to stop any trouble getting to Bethany. Not that the Slayer needed any protection of any sort. She had trailed behind Bethany as she did a couple of rounds of the club and was now at her constant post outside of the woman's office.

She shifted, tugging on the hem of her red tank-top and narrowing her eyes, tipping her head at Paul at the potential for trouble. He nodded and moved to diffuse the situation and Jessica's lips curled up into a small smile.

The club and what happened in it might have come as a great shock to her at first, but she was doing a job and she was actually succeeding in doing it fairly well, at least so far, and that was something. It meant that she felt less lost and out of place, out of the loop with everything that was happening in the life that she sudenly couldn't control anymore.

Besides which, she had worked out that when she got paid - with money that was hers instead of Oliver's (not that she didn't really appreciate him looking after her, but she wanted to be able to repay him some time, in some small way) - she could buy things. Maybe some new clothes, perhaps a skirt? She had seen people walking around in them and, since she had never owned or wore one in her life, she figured it wouldn't do much harm to try, right?

She rolled her neck and her eyelids fluttered as it cracked a couple of times, releasing the tension that was there, the tension that had been trying to give her a headache. She rubbed at one of the tendons at the base of her skull, pressing her thumb against it and rolling her shoulders before she glanced at the clock.

It surprised her to see that so much time had passed since opening. She hadn't been expecting to enjoy her work this much.

The patch job taken care of, Grace had returned to the bar to take Bethany up on a few of those comped drinks the Slayer had mentioned. There was nothing like free alcohol to take her mind off having to have minor surgery. The vampire deposited her weight on the stool she'd occupied before following the Slayer into her office, rested her boots on the bottom rung as she asked for another bourbon.

Good thing she'd brought along a fair-sized wad of cash. It would just be bad manners to show up broke to a place like this, especially where the women were so hot. As soon as Grace had her drink, she dug out a few bills and tucked them into her shirt pocket for easy access, then lit a smoke. The bartender provided her with an ashtray; she folded up a twenty and reached across the bar to slip it into his pocket. Good tipping meant good service.

The song changed, and some of the dancers retreated to make way for new ones. Grace made herself more comfortable on her seat, barely feeling the twinge of the fresh stitches at all. A second pair of hands was never a bad thing.

Jessica's eyes narrowed in on the woman that she had seen Bethany with earlier, just watching her at the bar, something about her seeming a little... off. She couldn't quite put her finger on it and decided that she should just keep an extra eye on her. She hadn't overheard what her name was, but she supposed there was nothing wrong with her being in the bar if Bethany had spoken with her.

She smiled at a couple of the patrons as they passed, one of them drunkenly greeting her with his hand as he headed towards the bathroom and she just tensed her jaw, taking half a step backwards. She levelled a very serious glare at him and he got the message, backing off. She was a security guard, not one of the dancers. And if the men weren't allowed to touch the dancers... It was a good thing he backed off because if he hadn't, she would have broken his fingers.

Men. Ugh.

She returned her gaze to the dancers, toes tapping in time with the music before she was moving her hips in time with the beat too, just subtly, and it wasn't like anyone was watching her, not when they had gorgeous, scantily clad women gyrating in front of them. She glanced over at Grace again, keeping an eye on her out of the corner of her eye as she watched the rest of the patrons too. She had to admit, she was curious about her, as she was about most of the people that Bethany spoke to.

Grace was watching a particular dancer, a small-boned brunette with a waist so small she probably could have spanned it with her hands, as she did a slow bump-and-grind to the bassline pounding out of the speakers. She wondered if there were rules in place about a girl-on-girl lapdance. Only one way to find out.

She pulled a twenty out of her pocket, lifted it up so the mortal could see it. The girl started o gyrate slowly in her direction, and the vampire pushed out a breath she didn't otherwise need. A thing of beauty truly was a fucking joy forever.

It paid to have friends like Bethany Richards.

( Rule Breakers )

( See something green? )

Oliver seldom made a big deal out of dinner. He usually just ordered room service, which he could eat by himself and not have to worry about other diners bothering him or waiters constantly asking him if he'd like anything else. But since he was planning to leave for Maine soon, he wanted to take Jessica out someplace, if only so he could make sure to know what to expect while she was alone in the suite. Her reading and writing seemed to be coming along slowly, and he wanted to know she'd be adequately prepared while he was gone. She had become his responsibility, and he always looked after his responsibilities.

He'd reserved a table at Gibsons Bar and Steakhouse, and he was nursing his first double scotch while they waited for their orders. One thing he had come to appreciate about the girl was her ability to put away food. To him it didn't matter a damn that she might have known which fork to use, the experience of having a meal with another person was a rare thing for him. The spellcaster lifted the glass to his mouth and sipped at the alcohol, then glanced around before lighting a cigarette.

"Hope you're hungry, they serve fairly big portions here," he told Jessica. "You must have a hollow leg or something."

In all honesty, Jessica had felt a little... apprehensive when Oliver had announced that they were going out for dinner. Room service was more than enough when they were up in the suite. She glanced around the restaurant and had already made sure she knew of every easily available exit, including - if necessary - the large window at the entrance. She didn't quite know what he was going to say, what could it be that merited a meal like this? A part of her felt like she should be expecting bad news.

"I am," she reassured with a small smile, pushing the straw around the glass and watching the bubbles rise from the bottom before taking a couple of sips. She absolutely loved the soda here. Coca-Cola was her favourite so far. Not that she hadn't given the lemonade and the orangeade a fair try. She really had.

She was always hungry, it would seem, now that she had access to food whenever she wanted it. She had been before too, but had been forced to just eat whenever she could. Here, though, it seemed like there was a never-ending supply of food. She had at least stopped worrying about feeding herself when Oliver wasn't around, got over that guilt complex she seemed to have developed about eating his food. Jessica never used the word 'starving' because of the implication, because she knew what it was like to be literally starving. She had heard a child say it on the street, whining at his mother to buy him a pretzel because he was "starving". She had taken one look at him, the wobble in his cheeks and how his arms just seemed to end in hands, he had no discernible wrists, and decided he was anything but starving. That had irritated her quite a bit.

Jessica gave a tiny grin and a soft laugh, wiggling her toes (not that Oliver could see). "Maybe both my legs are hollow?" she suggested, taking another sip of her drink and then fiddling with the layout of the cutlery in front of her. There was way too much for one meal, it was kind of stupid. She switched the forks and knives over so they were on the opposite sides, looking at them for a minute before she returned them to the position they had been before, just absently fiddling with the cutlery to keep her hands occupied.

( Leaving on a jet plane )

( Coincidence and Cheesecakes )

Jessica was so glad to have her papers. She spent a long time figuring out a signature for herself. She needed one, she supposed, for if she was signing things and truly making a life for herself.

She finished the book she was reading and closed it, reaching out for the other one and changing the channel on the television. She had seen everything that City Hospital had to show her. But this? This was new.

The Friends theme started up and Jessica closed her book to look at the monitor, lips curled into a small smile. She knew people weren't really like that, but it was entertaining. She enjoyed it.

She glanced over at the phone again and then away. It wasn't like she was waiting for Connor to call her. He said he would but it was no big deal if he didn't. She just knew that she needed all the friends she could get right now, people to help her grasp the way the world worked so that she didn't get into any trouble. Or get anyone else into trouble.

She shifted and took a bite of her cookie, wondering how she could fulfill the craving she had for a soda. There wasn't any in the fridge.

It's just a phone, dumb-ass. It isn't going to explode or bite you.

Connor had been repeating those two sentences to himself mentally for nearly twenty minutes, looking at the number he'd gotten for the phone in Jessica's room. He'd called the Fairmont the day before and, after some hemming and hawing from the desk manager he finally got the room number so he could call her. And then he chickened out and spent the rest of the day kicking himself.

He finally took a deep breath and grabbed the reciever off of the cradle, then punched the number quickly. He spoke to another desk clerk, then waited while she connnected him to the correct room.

And remember, the phone is not going to self-destruct.

( Phone Conversations )

The Fairmont was a huge hotel, filled with luxuries too numerous to mention. Jessica had wandered the hallways countless times and already knew the layouts of half the floors and the downstairs level. She had prowled the corridors and tried to be content with just staying inside the hotel, but she couldn't do it.

She looked out at the doorman and then gave him a small smile, tugging her coat around her that little bit more. And it wasn't like she was going to be going far, she just needed to get outside, fresh air and all that. Jessica wasn't too fond of the way that the elderly man at the door looked at her like she was going to break, or like he felt sorry for her. And it wasn't like she was going to be going far, she just needed to get outside, fresh air and all that. The bruise on her face was fading, a yellow color now that was slowly disappearing and the split on her lip and temple were all but healed. Her ribs were still hurting her to breathe in too deeply, but Oliver had been taking good care of her. And for that she was intensely grateful. She had slowly become less suspicious of his motives as the time had gone on.

In fact, she just stood outside the building and leaned against the wall, eyes closed, hearing honed as she picked out the individual sounds. Her knife was in the waistband of her pants and she felt more comfortable with it on her than when she had gone out without it. As if she was protected from everything by the tiny blade. She supposed she would need more weapons, something bigger, if she was going to be outside any more in this world. It might not have been as dangerous as hers, but she had gathered it was still dangerous.

She tipped her head back against the wall and breathed out slowly, just listening to the chaotic sounds of the city around her. It was times like this where she found it hardest to adjust; to the sounds of cars and people, the hum of electricity instead of growls and snarls, instead of screams or worse, the deadly silence that meant that something big was going down. A car rushed past, horn blaring and her eyes opened, hand reaching for her knife before she caught herself and took a deep breath. A car wouldn't hurt her. It wasn't a monster.

"Calm down, Jessica," she muttered to herself. "Just a car."

( Cab Drivers vs Vampires )

( Fighters and Fate )