a fox is the iron maiden. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ferrokinetic) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} playout,@ 2020-04-25 23:57:00 |
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| Entry tags: | ! log/narrative, captain regulator, the iron maiden |
CHARACTERS: Avalon Fox (ferrokinetic) and John Drew (irregulator)
DATE & TIME: Late afternoon.
LOCATION: Prestige, Avalon's office.
RATING: Feelings from two hardasses be in here.
SUMMARY: Prestige's first and second have a Talk about John's future, and the future of those in his immediate life.
He went to her office late in the day, a heavy air surrounding him like a raincloud. John had been thinking a lot lately, and it suited him less than action might have. He and Ava had broached the topic of retirement before, but they hadn't gotten far. Now, it was as though John had felt something subtly shift beneath his skin. There were things he needed to face. For his own sake, for his son's, for the Agency's. So he found himself hesitating at her door, which made him feel a little silly. There was little he couldn't discuss with Ava. They were friends and colleagues who respected one another. He exhaled and gathered himself.
Before he entered, he knocked, waited a polite moment, and then cracked the door open. "Boss, do you have a minute?" he asked, peeking in to see she was alone.
Avalon, who was indeed alone, glanced up where she was lost in thought at the window. They were common reveries these days, little breaks from the present to ruminate on all that had been in a twenty plus years career, more common than they had been in the last year. She knew now where they came from, and had no animosity for them.
"Yeah, come in," she welcomed him, angling away from the view that had held her attention. "Whose wrist am I slapping today?"
"Oh that's not the only reason I come to your office," John said with a little grin on his face. "Sometimes I like to bitch for bitching's sake." He didn't wait for permission to sit, getting comfortable across from her. There were few with whom John could let his hair down, but Ava came closer than most. "You doing alright?" he asked, because it was polite and also, perhaps, he might have had the ghost of a sense of her mood.
She made a little shrugging motion; a sign of her own that she was comfortable enough to do so. "As alright as one can." Not that it was much of an answer. She shook her head, rolling her chair back around. "It's not what you think. I was realizing the ages my children turned this year and wondering when they grew up."
John considered this for a moment, thought of his own child briefly. Their situations were night and day in terms of difference. Ava seemed to get on well enough with her kids, had a strong family unit. John and Davis and Nancy, meanwhile were their own planetary systems that rarely, if ever, revolved around one another. He leaned back thoughtfully, and asked, "It creeps up on you, doesn't it?" Here, he smiled, "It's not so bad a thing, is it? To see them be their own people?"
"One day you're holding them in your arms," Avalon lamented with no real distress, "and the next they're holding sex birthday parties." She set her elbows on the desk. "How's Davis? How are you?"
"Well," John said, a small smile on his face, "Artie's a special case." The less he knew of said parties, the better, really. He sobered ever so slightly as the topic shifted over to him. "Davis is Davis," he said, "Which is to say, he's probably doing a little better than I suspect, but I have no idea because his life is none of my business." It stung to say, but John smiled through it. This pain wasn't exactly new, just back into focus because they were back in close proximity to each other. "And me? I'm great." He grinned there, playful. It'd been a rough year on all of them. There'd been some sweet but more sour than anyone could have imagined.
She watched his face and the shifts in his expression. They had known each other for much too long for that to pass as acceptable. John, like many people, disliked second-guessing himself, asking for help. It might not have been exactly why he'd stepped into her office, but they had a bond that allowed for that sort of vulnerability. He didn't need to ask.
Avalon touched her nails to her lips. "Are you?"
"I'm," John hesitated, choosing his next word carefully, "managing." He offered her a little smile. There was no real hiding when it was the two of them, so he sensed that she could see through him easily enough. It didn't bother him as badly as it might have in the past. "I actually needed to talk to you about something. My retirement."
The word didn't make her freeze, but it was incredibly effective at cutting through pleasantries. They had had a conversation like this weeks ago, and yet this time, it sounded more certain. "Eventually, or…" She twisted her mouth. "Upcoming?"
"I had this idea that I'm playing around with. Announce soon. Let people marinate on the idea, so that when I do go, I don't have to deal quite as much with an explosion of public reaction. We can drum up some excitement for whoever joins rank in the interim, play around with that. Leave by the end of the year. Maybe a little sooner than that, but it gives everyone time to be ready for it and hopefully helps me avoid everybody throwing their emotions in my direction all at once." It gave him time to prepare and adjust to a new way of living, but also meant that he wouldn't have the secret of it weighing him down. "Wanted to see what you think."
Avalon had much to think about that. The topic of retirement didn't come easy for either of them, in particular because they were at the top of the totem pole. Accepting it and wanting it was one thing, and preparing for the reactions of others was another. It would change things, primarily, for Gwen, young and budding as a hero, and for Madison. Davis would find someone to put him on the right path, but it wasn't the same guidance someone fresh out of the Academy required. And Maddi — she was bright and ambitious, though still Maddi.
"I support whatever you decide," she found herself saying. "But I'd recommend before you announce anything publicly, you should pull Gwen, Davis, and Maddi aside. After you, they need the most mental prep."
"Yeah, that was part of the plan," John nodded. "Gwen'll be fine. She's a good kid. I'm not worried about her, really. After the initial shock, I'll prep her for moving forward. Figure she might even get some good press out of it. Can't say what Davis'll do. Half suspect he'll throw a party or make a scene. Maddi…" he hesitated. "She might not accept it until she doesn't have a choice." He shifted in his seat. Talking about it made it feel real, but John had been struggling with the spectre of his retirement for some time. "I shouldn't have waited so long to go, should I?" he asked quietly.
He wouldn't have come here if he'd known he'd be coddled by her. There was comfort in being honest in a friendship of two decades. "No, you shouldn't have," Avalon confirmed his sentiments, with some gentleness. "But if that's what you want now, then you should do it without regrets." She reached out for him with a palm turned up on the desk. "You do this for you."
He took her hand, head bent. "I don't want it at all," he admitted. "But it's not a choice at this point. I'm lucky I haven't gotten hurt. That people have been loyal." He squeezed her fingers before letting go, appreciative of her honesty. "You know," he added quietly, "I would not be able to do this without you."
The smile Avalon offered back was small. "I doubt that a lot, John. You can handle more than you think. And it is a choice, at least now, without the amendment looming over us. Better for you to pick the way out on your own terms than to be forced out, isn't it? We like our control too much." The smile widened. "Control freaks, the pair of us."
At that, he couldn't help but grin. They were very similar in the way they related to work, demanding perfection of themselves and of those around them to a lesser extent. "Yeah, I'm glad I have the opportunity to control the narrative, at least." There was more to say, but this didn't feel the place to throw it all out at her. Instead, as was their habit, he focused on the business side of it all. "Thank you, boss. I'll give you a heads up before I make the announcement, but I think it's coming soon. On a Friday. I need to get it done."
It felt wrong, in her heart, to wish him off, however far away the end of the year was. Although accepting John wasn't going to up and leave her life completely, that was a void she couldn't imagine being there. She fancied the two of them going right until the end, taking on the world together like begrudging parents, but that had been a dream. The mentor retiring before the mentee; it made sense. Except John wasn't just that to her: he'd been a confidante, a good second as he'd been a good first to her, a helping shoulder willing to bear the brunt of the weight, a friend. Was still.
She curled her hands in front of her, eyes falling to the desk. "John…"
He could feel what was coming, and his natural instinct was to stop her somehow. It was a mark of how much he'd grown that he didn't, instead looking at her with his head high. "Yeah, boss?"
Had this been anyone else, the desire wouldn't have been so strong. But John wasn't anyone else. "If we could all change something in our lives, I wouldn't have changed you," Avalon confessed. "I would have picked you all over again. Thank you, for everything."
Even prepared, John hadn't expected something so succinct and that rang so true to their relationship. He looked away for a moment, gathering himself before his emotion got the better of him. It wouldn't do to get too soft at the end of everything. And anyway, she already knew how he felt, that he trusted her, that their professional relationship didn't end with work. Words often failed him when it came to emotions. So instead, he cleared his throat and met her eye. "Jesus Christ, I'm not dead yet," he joked, emotion still quietly present in his voice, "Let's save that for the eulogy, yes?"
Her heart sang with melancholy, but she wasn't going to voice it. She did recline back in her chair and say, not without a tinge of amusement: "Get out of my office or I'll start it right now."
John laughed, grateful that they could move away from tense emotion so quickly. If anyone at the job could give him the swift kick in the ass that reminded him to not take himself so seriously, it was Ava. "You got it," he said, rising to his feet. He couldn't say he felt better, but he did feel a bit lighter, having gotten this all off of his chest. "Thank you, Ava," he said at her door. It wasn't time for goodbyes. Not yet.
There was no real smile on her lips, but her gaze was gentle. "Anything for you, John."
Before he entered, he knocked, waited a polite moment, and then cracked the door open. "Boss, do you have a minute?" he asked, peeking in to see she was alone.
Avalon, who was indeed alone, glanced up where she was lost in thought at the window. They were common reveries these days, little breaks from the present to ruminate on all that had been in a twenty plus years career, more common than they had been in the last year. She knew now where they came from, and had no animosity for them.
"Yeah, come in," she welcomed him, angling away from the view that had held her attention. "Whose wrist am I slapping today?"
"Oh that's not the only reason I come to your office," John said with a little grin on his face. "Sometimes I like to bitch for bitching's sake." He didn't wait for permission to sit, getting comfortable across from her. There were few with whom John could let his hair down, but Ava came closer than most. "You doing alright?" he asked, because it was polite and also, perhaps, he might have had the ghost of a sense of her mood.
She made a little shrugging motion; a sign of her own that she was comfortable enough to do so. "As alright as one can." Not that it was much of an answer. She shook her head, rolling her chair back around. "It's not what you think. I was realizing the ages my children turned this year and wondering when they grew up."
John considered this for a moment, thought of his own child briefly. Their situations were night and day in terms of difference. Ava seemed to get on well enough with her kids, had a strong family unit. John and Davis and Nancy, meanwhile were their own planetary systems that rarely, if ever, revolved around one another. He leaned back thoughtfully, and asked, "It creeps up on you, doesn't it?" Here, he smiled, "It's not so bad a thing, is it? To see them be their own people?"
"One day you're holding them in your arms," Avalon lamented with no real distress, "and the next they're holding sex birthday parties." She set her elbows on the desk. "How's Davis? How are you?"
"Well," John said, a small smile on his face, "Artie's a special case." The less he knew of said parties, the better, really. He sobered ever so slightly as the topic shifted over to him. "Davis is Davis," he said, "Which is to say, he's probably doing a little better than I suspect, but I have no idea because his life is none of my business." It stung to say, but John smiled through it. This pain wasn't exactly new, just back into focus because they were back in close proximity to each other. "And me? I'm great." He grinned there, playful. It'd been a rough year on all of them. There'd been some sweet but more sour than anyone could have imagined.
She watched his face and the shifts in his expression. They had known each other for much too long for that to pass as acceptable. John, like many people, disliked second-guessing himself, asking for help. It might not have been exactly why he'd stepped into her office, but they had a bond that allowed for that sort of vulnerability. He didn't need to ask.
Avalon touched her nails to her lips. "Are you?"
"I'm," John hesitated, choosing his next word carefully, "managing." He offered her a little smile. There was no real hiding when it was the two of them, so he sensed that she could see through him easily enough. It didn't bother him as badly as it might have in the past. "I actually needed to talk to you about something. My retirement."
The word didn't make her freeze, but it was incredibly effective at cutting through pleasantries. They had had a conversation like this weeks ago, and yet this time, it sounded more certain. "Eventually, or…" She twisted her mouth. "Upcoming?"
"I had this idea that I'm playing around with. Announce soon. Let people marinate on the idea, so that when I do go, I don't have to deal quite as much with an explosion of public reaction. We can drum up some excitement for whoever joins rank in the interim, play around with that. Leave by the end of the year. Maybe a little sooner than that, but it gives everyone time to be ready for it and hopefully helps me avoid everybody throwing their emotions in my direction all at once." It gave him time to prepare and adjust to a new way of living, but also meant that he wouldn't have the secret of it weighing him down. "Wanted to see what you think."
Avalon had much to think about that. The topic of retirement didn't come easy for either of them, in particular because they were at the top of the totem pole. Accepting it and wanting it was one thing, and preparing for the reactions of others was another. It would change things, primarily, for Gwen, young and budding as a hero, and for Madison. Davis would find someone to put him on the right path, but it wasn't the same guidance someone fresh out of the Academy required. And Maddi — she was bright and ambitious, though still Maddi.
"I support whatever you decide," she found herself saying. "But I'd recommend before you announce anything publicly, you should pull Gwen, Davis, and Maddi aside. After you, they need the most mental prep."
"Yeah, that was part of the plan," John nodded. "Gwen'll be fine. She's a good kid. I'm not worried about her, really. After the initial shock, I'll prep her for moving forward. Figure she might even get some good press out of it. Can't say what Davis'll do. Half suspect he'll throw a party or make a scene. Maddi…" he hesitated. "She might not accept it until she doesn't have a choice." He shifted in his seat. Talking about it made it feel real, but John had been struggling with the spectre of his retirement for some time. "I shouldn't have waited so long to go, should I?" he asked quietly.
He wouldn't have come here if he'd known he'd be coddled by her. There was comfort in being honest in a friendship of two decades. "No, you shouldn't have," Avalon confirmed his sentiments, with some gentleness. "But if that's what you want now, then you should do it without regrets." She reached out for him with a palm turned up on the desk. "You do this for you."
He took her hand, head bent. "I don't want it at all," he admitted. "But it's not a choice at this point. I'm lucky I haven't gotten hurt. That people have been loyal." He squeezed her fingers before letting go, appreciative of her honesty. "You know," he added quietly, "I would not be able to do this without you."
The smile Avalon offered back was small. "I doubt that a lot, John. You can handle more than you think. And it is a choice, at least now, without the amendment looming over us. Better for you to pick the way out on your own terms than to be forced out, isn't it? We like our control too much." The smile widened. "Control freaks, the pair of us."
At that, he couldn't help but grin. They were very similar in the way they related to work, demanding perfection of themselves and of those around them to a lesser extent. "Yeah, I'm glad I have the opportunity to control the narrative, at least." There was more to say, but this didn't feel the place to throw it all out at her. Instead, as was their habit, he focused on the business side of it all. "Thank you, boss. I'll give you a heads up before I make the announcement, but I think it's coming soon. On a Friday. I need to get it done."
It felt wrong, in her heart, to wish him off, however far away the end of the year was. Although accepting John wasn't going to up and leave her life completely, that was a void she couldn't imagine being there. She fancied the two of them going right until the end, taking on the world together like begrudging parents, but that had been a dream. The mentor retiring before the mentee; it made sense. Except John wasn't just that to her: he'd been a confidante, a good second as he'd been a good first to her, a helping shoulder willing to bear the brunt of the weight, a friend. Was still.
She curled her hands in front of her, eyes falling to the desk. "John…"
He could feel what was coming, and his natural instinct was to stop her somehow. It was a mark of how much he'd grown that he didn't, instead looking at her with his head high. "Yeah, boss?"
Had this been anyone else, the desire wouldn't have been so strong. But John wasn't anyone else. "If we could all change something in our lives, I wouldn't have changed you," Avalon confessed. "I would have picked you all over again. Thank you, for everything."
Even prepared, John hadn't expected something so succinct and that rang so true to their relationship. He looked away for a moment, gathering himself before his emotion got the better of him. It wouldn't do to get too soft at the end of everything. And anyway, she already knew how he felt, that he trusted her, that their professional relationship didn't end with work. Words often failed him when it came to emotions. So instead, he cleared his throat and met her eye. "Jesus Christ, I'm not dead yet," he joked, emotion still quietly present in his voice, "Let's save that for the eulogy, yes?"
Her heart sang with melancholy, but she wasn't going to voice it. She did recline back in her chair and say, not without a tinge of amusement: "Get out of my office or I'll start it right now."
John laughed, grateful that they could move away from tense emotion so quickly. If anyone at the job could give him the swift kick in the ass that reminded him to not take himself so seriously, it was Ava. "You got it," he said, rising to his feet. He couldn't say he felt better, but he did feel a bit lighter, having gotten this all off of his chest. "Thank you, Ava," he said at her door. It wasn't time for goodbyes. Not yet.
There was no real smile on her lips, but her gaze was gentle. "Anything for you, John."