Jessica Jones (thehword) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-02-01 09:21:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, jessica jones, peter quill (star-lord) |
Who: Peter and Jessica
What: Jessica's stuck babysitting Peter and takes him shopping for new clothes
When: End of December, shortly after Peter shows up on Yondu's doorstop
Where: Out and about
Rating/Warning: Low/none
Status: Complete
Jessica wasn't exactly sure what she had expected when Yondu asked if she could take Peter shopping. She didn't know much about Peter, except Yondu had kidnapped him in his dreams as a child, and that his father was homicidal planet named Ego (which, well, Jessica tried to not think about too much because what. the. fuck).
She didn't know much about the Peter in this world, but she tried to figure out what to expect as she walked from the bus stop to Yondu’s place. Since Yondu had talked about the kid in his dreams, and since Yondu had asked her to take him shopping, she imagined he was pretty young. Maybe a little rough around the edges in the same way Yondu was.
She knocked on the door, placed her hands in the pockets of the leather jacket she'd received from her dreams, and waited.
When Yondu had told Peter that some Jesica was coming to take him shopping, Peter protested heavily. He was a full grown adult, damnit -- he didn't need no fucking babysitter, but the older man was insistent. Since Peter literally owed everything he had at the moment to Yondu's chairty (ew gag), there was nothing he could do.
Unless he wanted to continue freeballin' in Yondu's sweats.
Wearing said pants, he threw on a t-shirt, his prison-issue hoodie (and thank god it had no label on it), and was about to put his boots on when he heard a knock on the door. "Fucking Yondu needs an answering service," he muttered to himself before answering the door. There stood the complete opposite of a Jessica: dark, broody, and sexy.
"Well hello there," he crooned, going instantly into flirt mode. "Please tell me you're Jessica, and I'll have to thank the old man later."
Jessica couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though she didn’t try particularly hard. Or at all, really. She had expected Peter to be younger, and she’d expected him to be, well, more like Yondu and less like… whatever this was, but she tried not to let things surprise her too much.
“I’d hold off on thanking him; you might not be so grateful by the time we’re done.” It was a rare kind of person who enjoyed Jessica’s company for very long. “You’re Peter,” she stated. It wasn’t necessarily a question, since it seemed pretty obvious to her.
"Yup," he answered cheerfully, putting his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. "Peter Quill, alive and kicking. And you're my babysitter for the day, which I hope includes bedtime as well. You look like you read good stories." Reaching behind him, he closed the door and stepped forward. "For the record, my favourite book is Where the Wild Things Are. I can act out all the parts, especially the growls."
“You’re not a very good judge of character, are you?” Jessica asked, raising an eyebrow. She was seriously beginning to wonder why she’d agreed to take Peter shopping in the first place. She could be doing something more productive, like working on one of her cases, or getting drunk. “The only bedtime story I read is Go the Fuck to Sleep.” Not that she’d ever read it before, but she’d seen it online and it had given her a bit of a laugh.
She turned off the doorstep and started walking, assuming that Peter would follow. “So, what kind of stuff are we supposed to be picking up?”
And follow, Peter did. Her brash attitude didn't faze him one bit -- after all, Yondu was the closest thing he had left to a parent. "Clothes. In case you hadn't noticed, Yondu and I aren't exactly the same size, nor do we really have the same taste in style." That was putting it lightly. He really was missing a lot of things, underwear notwithstanding, but the shoes thing ...that was bugging him the most. Wearing flipflops was great when it warm but at this rate, his toes were going to be permanently wrinkled. “And since Yondu trusts me as much as a leaky toilet, I don’t even know what the budget is. I’m guessing Goodwill though, which is fine since I rock everything.” And another grin.
“You didn’t have anything waiting for when you got out?” Jessica asked. That was… pretty unfortunate, really. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought of, but she guessed that if she ever managed to get herself thrown behind bars, she’d lose most of her stuff too. Unless Trish decided to put it in storage for her, but she wasn’t certain if Trish would be willing to fly all the way across the country just to keep Jessica’s meager possessions safe.
She placed her fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle, and moments later a cab pulled up in front of them. “How long were you in for?” she asked, walking to the other side of the car to get in.
“Five years, give or take a few days,” he said, impressed by her whistle. He used to be able to do that but hey, you don’t use a skill, you lose it. Getting in, he buckled up and waited for the cab to move before continuing. “And to answer your earlier question, I had storage set up but when the money runs out …. Well, let’s just say that someone on Storage Wars got some kick-ass action figures.” Peter gave a wry grin. He wasn’t upset or anything, that was just how things went. Hell, if Yondu hadn’t topped up his commissary occasionally, he would have never had anything different in the joint. Just another reason to be indebted to the old man, he thought to himself.
“Starting new, it’s not a big deal. It’s just shit anyways, right? And that’s one thing life always has -- shit.”
That was rough. Jessica had never held any special attachment to anything she owned from her old life, though she was very attached to the leather jacket she’d received from her dreams. Even still, she couldn’t imagine starting life all over again, with nothing to her name. She’d moved around a lot over the last decade, but at least she always had cash to get her where she needed to go, and her own clothes.
“You’ve got that right,” she said, allowing herself a bit of a smile. Life was full of shit; sometimes good, but mostly bad. “At least you’ve got Yondu watching your back.”
“Yeah.” Peter had to agree. He always had Yondu. Even when he didn’t want him...actually, especially then. When he was younger, it’d bothered him that this weird southern guy, with no blood relation, was so interested in everything he did, and it honestly caused him to act out more. Typical stupid Peter behaviour. “We go way back,” he finally said, tapping his knee with his palm. “And when I have no one, I tend to always have Yondu, so. Guess you could say that guy is kind of obsessed with me.” And just like that, he was back to his charming self, giving a wink and a smile. He wasn’t going to dwell on his past right now, no thanks. “It’s a little embarrassing, you know.”
“From the way he tells it, you’re obsessed with him. Wasn’t it you who showed up on his door-stop practically unannounced?” she asked, teasing a little. Despite her best intentions, this Peter kid seemed not entirely bad. Maybe part of it was because she knew how Yondu felt about him. She’d been there when Yondu had died in his dreams, and it hadn’t necessarily been the death itself that had bothered Yondu at that time, but the fact that it had been right in front of Peter. That had to count for something.
Peter made a face. “He was collecting my mail,” he mumbled, looking out the window. “I had some really good magazine subscriptions. Can’t just give those up.” Why did he keep coming back to Yondu? Meredith’s request was really only one way: Yondu was supposed to take care of Peter, not Peter worm his way into Yondu’s life. And yet, here he was.
“Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for being called ‘asshole’.”
“Must be a hell of a subscription,” Jessica said, with a hint of a knowing smile. She was hardly in touch with her own feelings, or, for that matter, very good at interpersonal relationships, but it would have been obvious to anyone that that wasn’t the whole truth. Still, she wasn’t going to push it. No matter how much Peter and Yondu might have cared about one another, it was obvious their relationship wasn’t all hugs and warm fuzzies.
It didn’t take long for the cab to pull up in front of the Goodwill, and Jessica slipped the driver a twenty and got out of the vehicle. “Well then, let’s see this Peter Quill style of yours,” she said.
“Don’t get mad when you fall in love with me,” Peter quipped as he followed her into Goodwill. He loved thrift stores. What was junk to most people was fixable treasure for him. Growing up in relative poverty, there was no extra money to buy things like a toaster or a kettle if theirs broke. The stupid farm took all their extra cash, and Peter never understood why he had to suffer for a field that wouldn’t produce corn. So off to the thrift store he’d go, find something, fix it and then he wouldn’t have to deal with boring bread.
But first, clothes. Did Peter really have a style? He wasn’t sure. He was prone to tighter fitting T-shirts, jeans or cargos, and boots, but he wasn’t picky either. Prison really had humbled him.
A few hours later, he was satisfied with his haul. Several jeans, a few pairs of shorts, T-shirts and hoodies galore...even some clothes that he could use for work, if he ever got that far. “Gotta say, I’m glad Yondu gave us some extra to splurge on actual underwear. I mean, I gotta draw the line somewhere. Used underwear is creepy if you’re not a Japanese businessman.
“It’s creepy even then,” Jessica said, trying very hard not to picture Peter wearing Yondu’s used underwear and not quite succeeding, despite knowing that Peter wasn’t being completely serious. Gross.
“Alright,” Jessica said, after they’d paid. She hadn’t promised Yondu that she was going to take Peter out for anything other than the necessities, but as of yet she hadn’t wanted to strangle Peter for more than a couple of seconds at a time, which was an impressive accomplishment on his end, “what do you want to do now?”
Peter looked at her with a surprised look. “Wait, you mean our babysitting date isn’t over yet? Seriously? Sweet!” He’d changed into one of his newer outfits, thrilled at the fact that his clothes actually fit him properly. Yondu’s cast-offs were in the bag with the other items, and upon return, Peter was sure Yondu would burn them or something, just to be a dink. “I mean, I don’t know. I lived more in L.A., when I was here, only came out to the OC for like ...Disneyland. Or Universal. I’m not really sure what there is out here. “ He thought for a moment. “There’s always Slurpees and walking.” They weren’t that far from Yondu’s (or so he thought), and Peter wasn’t actually sure how much money Jessica had left from Yondu. He didn’t want to spend any of her own money.
“We are not going to Disneyland or Universal,” Jessica said emphatically. Not because of any monetary reasons, just that Jessica wouldn’t be caught dead in a set of Mickey Mouse ears.
Jessica couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d had a Slurpee. Was it before the accident? She couldn’t be sure, but she was positive that Dorothy would never have taken her and Trish unless there was a photo op involved, and she was pretty sure she’d never gone in her adult life. “But we can do Slurpees,” she said, and set off at a walk. She was pretty certain that there was a 7-11 just around the corner.
“I’m happy with that!” And he was. “You know, I had a list of things I promised myself I’d do when I got out. Having a Slurpee was like...up here,” he said, putting his hand out by his forehead. It was one of the few things his grandfather liked to do with Peter, go to the local gas station and get a no-name slush. As a little kid, Peter hadn’t realized that Slurpee was a 7-11 thing, so all slushes? Slurpees. “We used to mix them all up, when I was a kid. Called it Swamp Water. Don’t know why that made it so much more appealing, but yeah.” He gave a small smile.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. I tend to do that. My brain and my mouth don’t communicate too well, and each kinda does what they want.”
“We did that too,” Jessica said. “Except with pop from the self-serve stations in fast food restaurants.” It was hers and her little brother’s favourite thing to drink whenever her parents had taken them out to eat greasy burgers. The memory was bittersweet, and she couldn’t quite help the sad smile when she thought about it.
“I’m only listening to half the things you say anyway,” she teased him.
Peter laughed hard at that. “You and the rest of the world!” He knew he had a mouth on him, and it was usually what got him into trouble. It was just so hard for him to stay quiet when there was something going on. He knew that he could keep his mouth shut but whyyyyy?
Sometimes, he thought it was amazing Yondu hadn’t killed him yet.
“I like your jacket, by the way. I meant to mention that before. I’ve always wanted a leather jacket, but I don’t know that I could pull off black. Red, maybe. SIenna, even. But black?? Pffft. Nah. I’d look like some sort of Mafia reject...but you look cool.”
Jessica opened her mouth to say it was just about the only good thing her dreams had ever given her, but then she thought better about it. Yondu had been pretty clear in that he didn’t want Peter to know about the dreams just yet. Jessica wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, given that her first experience with the Orange County strangeness had involved man-eating rabbits, but that wasn’t really her place to say.
“I’ll let you in on a secret. Black leather jackets look good on everyone,” Jessica said. “You just have to have the attitude to go with it.” She paused. “On second thought, maybe you should avoid it.”
“Just for that? I’m getting the biggest Slurpee they have. And maybe a hot dog.” Yup, Peter definitely liked Jessica. Anyone that could dish it - and take it - was top notch in his book. “Do you even know what a hot dog is? You look like you havent eaten in your entire life.”
“Ha ha,” Jessica said, rolling her eyes. “If you don’t watch it, you won’t get either of them.” She, of course, didn’t mean it. Anyone who spent the last five years in prison probably deserved at the very least a Slurpee and a hot dog, but there was no harm in making him worry about it for the next few moments.