dami can't (leavethenest) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-01-27 06:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | belle etoile, damian wayne |
Who: Val and Jim
Where: Jim's Diner
When: Backdated a bit so it's during the plague
What: Jim asks Val for help with renovations
Warnings: Swearing probably
Val had fucked up, probably starting with meeting Adam for coffee that day. Who the hell was she trying to kid? After smoking marijuana - the good shit mind - in large quantities for the better part of a decade, quitting cold turkey had just been plain stupid. Why hadn’t Adam told her that? Wasn’t he the doctor? Shouldn’t he have known? She must’ve started dozens of messages but then it all just fell to the wayside after she went to baby Robinson’s party. How was she supposed to argue against his relationship with MK when she wasn’t exactly a poster child for recovery? So Val figured he could come to her if he wanted to know how she was doing. Surprisingly though, it was Jim who got in touch with her first. Jim, who constantly told her she was the worst customer ever and a total pain in his ass. Val wasn’t really sure what to make of it, or of his offer to help out with the diner’s refurbishment, but she figured she didn’t have a hell of a lot to lose. Now that she’d gotten herself a bit of a stash, she wasn’t jittery or anxious but she still wasn’t her usual talkative self.
Dressed in jeans, a batman tee (she’d been told it made people think of Barbara Gordon and she wanted some comic-y mojo on her side) and black converse sneakers, she looked like she could’ve been a possible contestant on ‘What Not To Wear’ instead of a 31 year old with relatively successful business practices. Jim had said to meet him at the diner so there she was, hands in her pockets. One held a joint and the other her lighter, both familiar and comforting in their own ways. She could worry about some kind of step by step process some other time. For now, she wanted to know just how fucked up Jimmy was that he wanted her help with something. “Yo, Jimmy,” she called, wondering where he was at.
Jim looked like he was having one of the worst weeks of his life. Damian had agreed to let Jim stay in Vegas, but that didn’t keep him from squirming and asking to go back just to see how bad it was. Maybe if the kid was healthy he could go save the day, but Jim worried this was some kind of sweep. Like at the end of it there’d just be one Batman and Robin against a recovering city. It was something he wouldn’t put past DC publishers, so why not kill all the bat family just to make the little bird’s life worse? Jim blinked, rubbing his face to try and think about something else. Damian usually quieted down when things were mundane. Most people did. “Hey Val.” He called from the back of the Diner, sitting in one of the booths surrounded by paperwork.
“Help me sort this shit out to sign.” Jim didn’t really do typical small talk and Val was here to keep her busy. Even if it wasn’t exactly going to thrilling. “The workers are going to be here soon, I just need to get all this paperwork figured out beforehand.” The nice thing about Jim was that he knew when to be judgey. He’d guilt the shit out of someone when they needed it, but Val knew she fucked up. He could tell just by looking at her.
Val knew she looked like shit but Jim? He looked like he’d gotten the raw end of the deal. “When’s the last time you slept?” she asked, unceremoniously plopping herself down on the other side of the booth, a table full of paperwork between them. Her legs were folded Indian style and she immediately started sorting, putting similar looking papers together because fuck if she actually knew what she was doing. She took a peek at the order forms and inventory sheets to see just what he was planning on doing to the diner she’d come to really love since she came to Vegas. Diners were a staple where she grew up so it was almost like a way for her to be reminded of what normal was like way back when. At least the princess had been quiet.
Quiet washed over them and Val felt the anxiety start to set in. She hated the quiet. First, her knee started to bounce, making a slight wooshing sound as her leg jostled the booth’s fabric covered seat. Next, she shifted so that her foot was on the floor and the heel tapping started, immediately comforting her on a small level. Jim was never one for conversation, Val knew, but she was also really fucking confused and she kind of wanted to know what the hell was up with him. “So.” She looked up at him. “Shitty time to refurb when you’re broken, right?”
“Eh, I just tell the guys what to do.” Jim eyed her wiggling in her seat like she was some seven year old who was given a box of pixie sticks and couldn’t get outside to burn it all off. He reached for the little jukebox on the table that could change the song overhead. He had personally switched out all of the happy 50’s stuff for Springsteen and Neil Young, which meant he knew all the codes by heart. In seconds, “Glory Days” started playing overhead and Jim gave Val a look like better? Not waiting for an answer, he went back to signing stuff, writing out checks and stapling.
“I kind of want to just let the kid go through.” Jim said finally, pointing to his head with his pencil. “He’s banned from Gotham for now, but he’s going nuts. Like you. Going just off the walls crazy. So, he might get sick and the both of us killed, but at least it’d shut him up.”
“Sleep though?” She noticed how he just ignored that question and she wasn’t about to let him off the hook about it. Sleep was important and it had the added benefit of being just about the only time she had some peace and quiet, at least in her own head. Things were a lot better since that party at baby Robinson’s. He switched the music and Val laughed. “Oh god, he was actually hot back then. ‘85 is going back a little, but I approve,” she teased, knowing her approval meant absolutely nothing to Jim. She didn’t mind the paperwork or the sorting and it was just mind numbing enough to actually help her settle. Herfoot stopped tapping just a minute or two before he piped up about his kid.
“So why don’t you just let him through another door?” she asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That way he gets to be him for a while and he’s not risking getting your ass killed. Theoretically. I don’t think he’d get himself killed through my door but those Marvel folks probably have it just as rough as Gotham.” Though, maybe not if he’s banned. Val didn’t point that out though because she was trying to be helpful to Jim moreso than Damian. “Seriously though, if he wants to, my girl’s got a castle he can go exploring in, plus he’s welcome to just go off and do whatever. She’ll make sure he’s well stocked for whatever kind of adventure he wants.” Belle-Etoile was way too helpful and kind of stupid sometimes, but Val let her do her thing and the blonde left her alone most days.
Jim made a mumbling grunting noise that seemed to signify he got a little sleep. Not as much as he needed, obviously, but enough that he wasn’t about to drop dead. He could be a big grumpy kid sometimes, but Lily made him responsible enough to take care of himself to the point of surviving. In fact, he had enough people in his life now to make sure he kept his head above water. A thing he was grateful for, even if he’d never admit to it out loud.
“He’s not an adventurer kind of kid, if you can believe that. He just wants to go save his family. And, yeah I get that, but if he gets sick, then I could die, too.” Jim didn’t add all the other bad things that could happen, since the death of both him and Robin seemed like enough. Damian would just have to wait until there was no chance of dying, even if his whole family was gone by the time that happened. “You sound like you have a fairy tale soccer mom in your head, by the way.” Jim smirked up at Val, trying to keep the conversation light.
It wasn’t like Val could actually criticize his life choices given her’s, but she was glad he was at least getting some sleep. Going on no sleep was never, ever fun. Particularly once you got to the micronaps that come and go without warning. She wasn’t a fan of those, mostly because it reminded her too much of Freddy Kreuger and that movie was just plain scary. Val didn’t envy Jim’s dilemma at all. “Maybe he’s not the only one stuck on this side? You never know. And this place has been fucked up before, but people have come back to life. Maybe the hotel will consider it an imbalance and bring everyone back to life?” It was a hell of a long shot and Val was never very good at being optimistic in a realistic sort of way, but she was trying.
She rolled her eyes when he said Belle-Etoile was a soccer mom. “Ughhhhh don’t remind me. She sent out Christmas presents and instead of using like packing peanuts or bubble wrap, she uses jewels to ‘cushion’ the stuff inside.” Air quotes were used and the look on her face expressed perfectly how ridiculous she thought the blonde was. “And not like, fake ones or inexpensive ones. Like diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds. The whole deal. She’s a complete weirdo.” Val sighed. “She would be a good mom though. She wants like a dozen kids. She’s not even pregnant but she built a nursery already. How weird is that?” It was very weird, she thought, and that was clear on her face.
Jim managed a smile between signing dotted lines and paperclipping receipts. “Have her send you some of that shit, you won’t have to work for years.” He said it like he thought frequently about a life where working wasn’t directly connected to making sure his kid was going to go to college when she grew up. Because that’s what Lily was destined for. She acted like she wanted to take over the Diner, but Jim knew she’d probably go to college and come back to make the place a franchise. Very few people deserved to go to college, but she was one of them.
“Though, I don’t know.” Jim said after a little while, looking up at Val with a serious expression. “I bitch about this place, but it’s like-” He looked at the paperwork, searching for the right word. “A garden. It’s like my terrible, greasy little garden. I spend all day in it making sure the crops are watered and the grill is clean.” He seemed happy with the half-assed analogy. Well, as happy as Jim could be. “You should find a garden.”
Val had never actually thought about taking money from Belle-Etoile. “Wouldn’t that be like...stealing or something?” Plus, it wasn’t like she could go sell that shit on ebay or whatever. Maybe though, at least to get her through until she found a new job. Oooooooor. “You know, I can totally get why you like this place. I mean, it’s your baby basically. Or garden, whatever you want to call it.” Val made a sort of wavey hand motion to dismiss it. “Basically, this place is awesome but you’ve gotta play to your strengths, right? That’s how all successful stuff happens.”
She was never the type for her own garden. It’d be all over the place, part tropical, part arctic, and part zen. It might sound great in theory (or not, let’s be honest), but it sure as hell didn’t work in real life either. No, Val definitely couldn’t handle a garden on her own, and she knew that. “I mean, let’s face it, you’re pretty darn awful when it comes to people. You should totally get someone in here who’s good with people. That way you can worry about cleaning the grill and I can make sure the crops are all watered.” She stopped there, for a second. “The crop watering part is making sure people are fed and happy right?” Analogies were never her strong suit, but that was the most she’d spoken since that day at the coffee shop, so it had to count for something, right?
“People who are good with people don’t want me as a boss.” Jim seemed pretty proud of that. The old crotchety man act never got old, just like it never did for Damian either. They at least had that in common, even if Damian’s old man thing had an extra helping of brattiness. “I had a waitress quit a couple months ago because when she asked me if the uniform made her look fat, I told her the truth.” He looked perplexed that honesty could really get him in trouble with women who had low self esteem. “Plus, I think people like the rude atmosphere. I’ve lived in Vegas my whole life and if there’s one word out there I could use to describe it, it’d be phony. Old guys make up stories about being Sinatra’s piano player, valet kids pretend they actually respect whoever is driving the newest Porsche and women- no offense- women know they get shit for free by being pretty.”
There was pride in his voice, seeping out through the disdain for most of the rest of the world and even a majority of his customers. “But, here? We don’t bullshit. The waitresses who work here don’t bullshit. It’s a break. That’s why people go to diners in the first place.” He realized suddenly that he was monologuing, something that sounded strange for a man that usually responded in grunts. But, get Jim on the right topic or find him something to complain about, and he could be a chatterbox, too. “Well, that and they’re drunk. Okay, it’s mostly cause they’re drunk.” Jim smirked and went back to his paperwork.
Val was suitably impressed that she’d gotten Jim to talk so much that she didn’t even mind that he was telling her no. Or at least, that’s what she took away from it, so she wasn’t going to bring it up again. “She really quit cause you told her she was fat? It was the totally the short one right? With a chubby face and stringy brown hair?” Val grinned. “You know the girls who ask if they look fat are fat, right? Or at least way rounder than the girls who don’t ask.” She shuffled around some more papers. “Drunk is good, Jimmy. Makes everything amusing instead of offensive, unless you’re one of those fighting drunks, but they’ve usually gotten their ass kicked already before they stumble in here. Remember that guy that came in that one time, had a bloody lip and a black eye. He asked for his steak fresh from the freezer so he could put it on his eye.” For as much as she annoyed Jim, she was there an awful lot and she knew a lot of the people at the diner. It was fun and she liked being here more than a lot of other places, particularly now.
“It’s the girls who are chubby, but not like obese. Those are the girls who get really offended.” Not like he cared. If they wanted to be skinny, they should stop sitting around in their dorm rooms watching Gossip Girl and eating Doritos. Jim decided the next girl who complained about his comments would get that particular gem of advice. He started making surprisingly neat piles of paperwork, putting a couple in folders and stacking the stuff he needed handy near the edge of the table. Jim seemed like the kind of guy who would be a slob, but organization was what kept him from being a complete slacker. It wasn’t something he was always good at and before Lily never even attempted, but he changed for her. Any dad who wanted their kid in their life would change for them.
He smirked at the memory of the drunk who asked for the frozen steak. “Or that starving artist who came in here with his mom and ordered a couple bags of white bread and a dozen eggs since she was paying.” Jim liked being at his diner, too. It forced him to be social without being polite. What wasn’t to like about that? “Okay, I think we got most of this done. The contractors should be here soon. You don’t have to do anything, but I figured you’d want to flirt with some of them. Half of the blue collar guys in this town double as strippers now. It’s disgusting.” He made a face like one too many working class guys bragged to him about their gross night job.
“And they’re the idiots that ask the question in the first place,” Val pointed out. “They all know they’re fat, they just mistakenly thought you cared enough to lie to them. You’re better off without her if she quit after that.” She’d never really bothered to play coy with anyone like that, mostly because it was such a waste of time in her opinion. She knew how she looked, knew how she acted, and sure, she was oblivious to a lot of things, but she never played games on purpose. If she did it by accident, she stopped as soon as she was clued in. That just wasn’t the person she wanted to be and she didn’t like the girls that acted like that either.
Reminiscing about some of the odder requests was always fun, and so was the sorting and whatever it was she’d done for Jim. It had been exactly what she needed to distract her from the crazy going on in her head. Being settled was something difficult for her to achieve, but when she managed it, she felt a lot better. “Oooo you know I love to flirt. Don’t mind if I do,” Val replied with a grin when he offered to let her stay and distract the contractors. “Hey, they all saw Magic Mike. They know where it’s at,” she teased. “You could totally do it too. I bet there’s a rockin’ bod underneath all that grump.”
Jim raised his eyebrows and grimaced at her assertion he had a rockin bod, but there was a teeny, tiny hint of being flattered in there, too. “From eating all those hamburgers, you know it.” He attempted to be silly, but it was obviously something he wasn’t well practiced at. But, Jim was good at making people feel better if he wanted to. Diners were all about comfort food and most people, especially Val, just needed proverbial pancakes to get them through tough situations. Talking shit out helped, too, but wasn’t easier just to throw some Jim-isms and a couple good looking construction workers her way? From the look on Val’s face, he knew that was the best thing he could have done.