THREAD: hitting things = best part of the job Who: Jessica Drew NPCs: n/a When: 28.05.13 -- early afternoon Where: Gym → Retreat What: Jessica works off some pent up frustration. No, not that kind. (Shut up.) Rating: PGish
Jessica punched the bag-- hard. And, no, she wasn't picturing anyone's (Clint's) face; she'd just been feeling antsy these past few... weeks was all. Ever since her birthday if she was going to be perfectly honest but that would require her to stop avoiding the issue, so. Hadn't happened. But there was something cathartic in hitting things and it let her mind wander even if she didn't particularly want to think.
It was just... she'd turned twenty-nine this year. Twenty-nine. Which was just one off of thirty. And thirty was kind of a big deal. (Jessica wasn't actually entirely sure why that was but felt it weigh on her all the same.)
Honestly, it made her feel like she should have a husband-- or at least a steady boyfriend-- by now. And the closest Jessica had come was Jared and then Dane (who just had to have his birthday the day after hers, didn't he? Jerk) and that'd been over for a while. Which was fine with her, really, except now she was almost thirty and it just felt... different.
Or maybe it was all the wedding talk. That shit was starting to drive Jess a bit insane... and not because she'd be attending solo, either. No. She punched the bag hard enough to make it strain against the bands holding it in place and took a deep breath. No sense in breaking Tony's fancy equipment over something as trivial as aging.
Because it wasn't a big deal. Really! Nor was it a big deal that she hadn't been laid in a while. (Like, longer than Jessica was willing to admit even in her own head.) She knew she could get some if she wanted it. But she was almost thirty now and it just felt... wrong to shag indiscriminately.
Whatever. Jessica kicked the bag and circled to jab it with her elbow. That was enough time in her own damn head. She was going to focus on her training and then do some work and everything else would sort itself. Or something. (Hey, she could hope, right?)