Agent Washington (completelysane) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-01-27 15:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, agent washington, killian jones (captain hook) |
Who: Agent Washington and Killian Jones
What: Both are on a mission to acquire pancake mix
When: Sometime today
Where: Local grocery store
Rating/Warnings Low
Status: Complete!
"I need you to go to the store, Gunney. Here’s a list of things. And since you’re going, take Sophie with you. She needs the practice."
Wash hated grocery stores. There was no spot in which you could stand in which you could see the entire store. The height of the shelves that made up the aisles made it impossible. Not to mention that each aisle could be considered a choking point – or, in the reverse, a brilliant place for an ambush as one came around the corner. The way most stores were set up, in order to look at any product, even the produce and deli counter, you had to turn your back on all your fellow customers. Wash hated turning his back on anyone, especially a place full of strangers. Someone could stalk you or shoot you and you wouldn’t even know it. Yes, the former marine loathed grocery stores. Call him paranoid.
The development of the Cart app had been a stroke of genius in Wash’s opinion. He could order his groceries from his phone, leave instructions for the person who delivered them to leave them outside his door and knock. He didn’t have to go out and he didn’t have to deal with the stores, so normally that’s how he got most of his food. The introduction of Sophie, the German Shepherd, into their lives had changed a lot of that. It was obvious during the week up at the cabin in Yosemite, where they’d found the dog, that she’d had some kind of service training and Carolina wanted to see if she could continue that training. And that required exercises like this, although Wash suspected this was as much for his own benefit as it was Sophie’s.
And, honestly, that wasn’t really a bad thing. Wash’s food shopping had improved since Sophie had started to join him. It was less in-and-out and more Get-What-We-Actually-Want. Plus Sophie’s harness and leash, both clearly marked Service Dog In Training, made it so people gave him a fairly wide berth.
One of the items on the list Carolina had given him for the trip was pancake mix, but she hadn’t said what kind of pancake mix she wanted. Did she want the stuff you poured water into a bottle and shook it? Did she want the kind you mixed in a bowl? Did she want the kind that already had blueberries in it? Why were there so many different kinds of goddamn pancake mix??
As Wash was comparing the choices, Sophie was seated on the floor next to his leg keeping an ever diligent eye on the aisle around them.
Honestly, Killian knew that Regina would turn her nose up at most pancake mixes to be found in any grocery store aisle - but not only were they fast and cheap (there were instances, with a hungry baby that demanded first priority in everything, that he had to make do with stuffing whatever he could get into his mouth quickly) there were a variety of other uses too. For instance, fried dough was always acceptable with pancake mix - fritters, or whatever - and also pizza crust. Come on, it was basically flour, baking soda, and salt. Who damn well cared.
With Meara being carried safely strapped to his chest, because she was still a bit too young to ride in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, Killian forced himself to complete the mundane task that was picking up things with which to feed himself and the other ladies in the house. Also cat food, he supposed, since that mangy pussy Tigra needed to eat too. Besides the mice she killed out in the wild and deposited on the back doorstep, how utterly sweet.
“Carbless pancake mix,” he read out loud, unable to disguise the shock and disdain in his voice. Now he remembered why he really hated grocery shopping. “What’s the bloody point? Oh, wait - “ Those bright blue eyes alight with recognition, or at least, he hoped he was correct. Or else this might be awkward. “I know you, don’t I?”
Sophie had alerted the moment someone had come up next to her partner. She leaned a little harder on Wash’s leg and her attention was focused on the pirate captain. Wash glanced down at her and then in the direction she was looking. He looked at the other dark haired man for a moment. A brief light of recognition came over his face, followed shortly after with furrow-browed confusion. What was it with people he thought he recognized suddenly having kids with him that weren’t there before?
“I…’m not sure,” Wash admitted. “Maybe?” He honestly hoped that this man wasn’t a bounty he’d dragged in. That’d be an unpleasant encounter. Then again, the baby strapped to the guy’s chest didn’t exactly scream bail jumper. “Who are you?”
Well, if they had never encountered each other in person, then the addition of Meara shouldn’t be much of a surprise at all. The wee lass gurgled and cooed, the dummy attached to a ribbon falling onto her bib; her attention was on all of the wondrous things the grocery store had to offer - she couldn’t quite reach the aisle (thank fuck - he didn’t need any embarrassing calamities right now) but that didn’t stop her from wiggling, little legs kicking enthusiastically, and especially when she caught sight of what looked to be a furry companion in her midst.
The Captain chuckled, cradling the back of her fuzzy head. “Killian Jones,” he introduced himself. He’d never been to prison in this life, much too slippery and conniving - but even if he had, there weren’t many sorts of shackles that could hold him. Pirate. “This is Meara. And I just ask because the mechanics of this place often like to toss a certain type of people together, despite how thousands technically live here.”
Their good old hellhole. How Killian adored Orange County.
Ooh. Recognition returned to Wash’s face instantly. In doing so, the hand not currently holding the bottle of blueberry Bisquick dropped down to the top of Sophie’s head. Silent command that they were under no potential threat. The dog stopped leaning against him and returned her attention to the rest of the aisle, content to let Wash socialize while she did her job.
Hand still on the dog’s head, Wash set the bottle of pancake mix aside and reached out in offered greeting. “Wash,” he introduced himself. “We’ve chatted on the network once or twice” Or several times? Wash couldn’t quite remember. “Nice to finally meet you, Captain. Is this Maera?” Wash’s posts to the network were sparse these days. Occasional updates as if to remind the world he was still alive. But he still lurked, checking it often enough for any kind of heads up on bullshit or shenanigans. He thought he had read something about the pirate and a baby fairly recently.
“Indeed we have, a few times.” Chatted, that is. “Some of the better conversations I’ve had,” Killian grinned crookedly; he could remember a discussion about pie awhile back, and even the military - funny how you just started talking to people on that network and it snowballed. They were all such odd ducks, himself included. “And, aye, she’s our wee princess - she’s about five months old,” he said about his daughter, the pride evident in his voice. He never thought he’d have something like this - wearing a baby, no, didn’t seem like that was in the cards after he’d been honourably discharged from the Royal Navy, and had to resort to drug trafficking to survive.
But he was pleased with his lot. For all the pain trying to sort through remembering his other life brought, it also brought happiness too. A real sense of not taking anything for granted now. “You’ve been alright, then? Got yourself a pup in the meantime?” A pup the baby was certainly curious about, because she didn’t seem to want her pacifier was a distraction. No? Oh, alright.
Wash glanced down at the dog at his side, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. Well, actually, she belongs to my sister. We spent a week up in Yosemite this past September at this cabin in the woods. We found her there and she...kind of adopted us.” Which was something of an understatement. The dog had appointed herself as Carolina’s second pair of eyes while she watched over her brother’s detox. And, when everything was said and done, it had been a good thing she’d been there. “We think she may have had some kind of service training and Carolina wanted to see if she could complete it. I’m, uh...I’m helping.”
“I’ve been...well, last year was tough.” Wash shrugged. “I mean I was reunited with two of my squadmates, and that was good. Great. I missed them. One of them even turned out to be family I didn’t know I had. And my best friend got married. Finally. The rest of the year…” another shrug. “How about you? How’s life as a family man?”
“Ah, that’s wonderful,” Killian praised as he glanced down at the dog. Service dogs were important, they did good work, and canines were such smart creatures too. Man’s best friend. “I sometimes wish I found a dog or something after I was discharged from the Royal Navy - might have been healthier for me,” he chuckled.
As far as life as a family man, it should be strange to a pirate, who craved adventure and freedom. But he was getting that with his new life too - certainly no shortage of adventure here, and the bonus was that he didn’t experience that keen sense of loneliness sailors felt. Regina was his partner in everything. He supposed he’d been searching for that, if unconsciously, all along. “I love it though, having a family is something I never thought I’d have after my brother died but it’s grand. Now I’ve got my sister, my fiancee, my daughter.”
Meara made a gurgling sound at that, another one. Her little fists opening and closing, legs still kicking. “And here I thought she’d give me a break and sleep the whole trip.”
Wash smiled faintly. Family was an amazing thing. “Even when you think you’ve lost it, it has a way of finding you again,” he agreed. He had lost his squad, the only family he’d really ever had, but they - two of them at least - had come back into his life and really Wash couldn’t have been happier to have them, especially in a place like this. “I’m glad you’ve got yours.”
His attention moved to little Meara again and his smile grew. It was hard not to. She was adorable and the sight of Killian with a baby attachment was funny, not to mention heart warming. “Well, someone has to find trips to the grocery store exciting,” he said. Just because he loathed them didn’t mean they weren’t full of wonders for a small child. Wash’s smile grew a little. “She can at least make the daunting task of choosing pancakes a little easier. Whatever she grabs at is the winner.”
“Suppose she does have good taste,” Killian said fondly about his little starfish. She really was bloody adorable - he may be biased, certainly, but it was still true. “I’m not really one for the grocery store myself. But that’s alright.”
Sometimes you ran into interesting people, like now. He wouldn’t take up an eon of Wash’s time, however. If they were to have a lengthy conversation, he’d rather it be in a place that didn’t feature tinny 80s music piped out of the speakers and florescent lighting. “If you haven’t seen my ship yet, I like to take people aboard the Roger,” he offered. “Give them the whole pirate experience, and it’s usually nice to just spend time up on the deck.” Even if your sea legs weren’t particularly great, that was fine too - not like they were sailing off. The Roger was docked in a private marina space, and cleaned and maintained regularly.
Just in case he did find himself with a fleshed out pirate crew in the future.
“I hate the grocery store,” Wash admitted. He cast a weary look up the aisle and then down. “Too many places to hide. Which is exactly why I’m here with Sophie. So I can actually shop for a change.”
A trip to see Killian’s skip sounded like it’d be fun, though. A place to talk that wasn’t in the middle of a crowded store. “Yeah, I think I’d like to come see the Roger some time,” he said. “The only boats I’ve been on have been military.” Exciting, but not nearly as novel. “First though, I gotta figure out what pancake mix to get Carolina.” He turned a glare towards the wall-o-mixes next to him. “All she put on the list was ‘pancake mix’. I think she did that on purpose.” He looked towards the baby with something of a grin. “What do you think, Maera? Blueberries or not?”
Meara made a noise, completely nonsensical, but it was just her accompaniment to drooling. Still, Killian would take that as some kind of response. The right response. “She says without, because who likes those fake blueberries that are all chemical shite anyway?” her helpful papa asked rhetorically. “Go with the cleanest pancake mix you can find.”
It made for much tastier pancakes, yes? That was his rationale, at least. And for his end, Killian selected a seven-grain mix, since it was relatively healthy and Regina wouldn’t roll her eyes too much at him. “Anyway, here’s my card, mate - “ He procured one of the helpful business tools, the design of which could be attributed to his sister, and handed it over. Had all his contact info on it, no problem. “I’m a PI, Inquiry Agent, whatever you’d like to call it. I run my business out of what used to be my houseboat, but it’s more an office space now. Give me a ring whenever you’d like to see the Roger, and prepare to be impressed.”
“Mm,” Wash looked thoughtfully at the wall. “She’s right. Those little blueberries are gross.” He looked back at the cutie patootie and smiled. “Thank you, Meara. That was very helpful.” Wash selected a box of plain old ordinary pancake mix and put it in his basket.
He accepted the business card Killian handed him. “A P.I., huh?” He had been unaware of Killian’s business up until this moment and it amused him. “Hm. I’m a bounty hunter. I, uh, don’t have any cards, but yeah, I’ll give you a call soon so I can check out your ship.” Wash grinned at him. “And I promise. I’ll be impressed.”