InsaneJournal

It'd been the day before the parades started in Louisiana and as a thank you for putting up with him over the past couple of years, James had headed out early back down in Queens to get a King Cake. He'd promised the month before at New Years that he'd sit around with him and watch one of the parades (James couldn't remember which one) and FaceTime with him, Sarah and the kids. That was how the day was supposed to go and would round into a late, lazy night with the two of them assuring his sister that they'd be there for Easter.

With all those thoughts long in his head the night before, James was up and out of his place by 4am, ready to line up around the block for the cake in question. There were about four places that had good King Cake in New York and the place he'd found out about was an old Southern bakery that was run by the granddaughter of the granddaughter of somebody who was one of the bakers down in Gambino's,.

James hadn't slept much the night before, not that it was a surprise, but if nothing else the day that was laid out for him had a lot of promise and felt like he'd get a good night after the fact. He grabbed up the leather jacket and put on his boots, had five arguments inside of his head about whether or not he should bother with carrying while he was out. On the one hand, he could be stopped and searched at any given point and there was nothing he could do about it, but on the other hand, he could be stopped and searched at any given point and there was nothing he could do about it.

While correcting his paranoia and PTSD was going to take something of several lifetimes to unpack, James was taking some strides to not be the guy in the hoodie with the knife in his sleeve - now he had a jacket and was mostly comfortable leaving the STI 10 in favor of an old ghost that got the job done in the Gerber Mark II strapped to the inside of his boot. So today was a day that the gun stayed at his apartment and the knife went on a walk with him. His phone in the left inner breast pocket of his jacket and remembering his wallet and keys, the morning wasn't so bad. The outside was brisk and bitter and still dark when he made it to Queens, only maybe five people ahead of him, and by the time the bakery had opened, the line was as expected around the block..

By the time he got inside, there was still a considerable stack of cakes left - some still being pulled fresh from the oven to be iced and set out with gaudy edible sugar and foils. He'd put the order in the week before, so he didn't have to spend much time, on the inside. Tipping the staff before making his way back to the big, glass swinging door where a small sea of humanity was still waiting in the cold, James was telling them to have a nice day and that he'd appreciated it, his head turned away from the door. This was a mistake. The air smelled like metal, gunpowder and the thick, sweet scent of sugar burning on the pan. When his right foot had started to step through the door, he was caught in a swirling, deep blue and sparking vortex that would grab and pull him through, cake and all.

The scant seconds where he was no where at all felt like time was being drawn out over a table, stretched thin and then bunched back up again when he felt ground under his feet again. The passing clouds over a kind of subdued midday sun that was grey around the edges in a cooler, damper climate when he was all but spat out. The cake box tied up and pristine in it's bag, held on tightly by his left hand. James was then keenly aware that the gun would have been better than the knife. Seeing the giddy science types first, his jaw and his right hand holding the bag with the cake box clenching and holding tight while he tried to parse together where he'd landed. It was always another fucking thing.

Then, the double take - he wasn't there alone with the science types, there were kids (weren't there always?) and off toward the side middle, the gleam of the barely there sun sparkled off tellingly gold armor. The take held, his eyes widening a little with some surprise. Who the hell got that out of storage?