The disappearance of Illya and Gaby had been… Difficult. Napoleon had long since taught himself not to need anyone, that wasn’t the problem, he didn’t need them, but he’d gotten comfortable with having them, being a partnership, not just in the field.
Maybe it’d been a little awkward at times, Gaby and Illya, him. But it’d been something he’d been willing to deal with, the awkwardness, to get to have teammates he actually trusted.
And then, just like that, they were gone and he was dealing with … all this, alone. Or, not entirely. He had to admit Kore was a very good friend to have, and although it surprised him somewhat that Illya was the one she befriended first, he was rather grateful that the friendship had been extended. She’d sent more than enough food to the now far too large suite for him, the care package probably more needed than he’d have thought -he was more than capable of taking care of himself.
But missing from that package was coffee, or at least enough of the decent stuff, that Napoleon had ventured out into Night Vale, on his own. Coffee in hand he’d opted to wander, try and get a proper understanding of the place, reassess things now that he was a lone agent rather than part of a group again. It happened to include some people watching, while he sipped on his coffee and his gaze followed a redhead as she, presumably, did the same thing as he did.
Jesse had been too afraid to really try the coffee at The Oldest House for days and when she finally had, well… it wasn’t all that great. More like dirty water than actual coffee, she had quickly decided that the coffee maker while not an altered object might as well be classified as some kind of abomination anyway. It was charming how everything in the place had to be old fashioned and analog, but the coffee was trash.
Here in Night Vale, while everything was weird and Jesse was still not convinced it wasn’t all poisonous, she had actually tried the coffee and found it pretty damn good. The kind that cost her way too much and left her a little broke for a week. Ever since she had gotten here it had become a ritual, because apparently people needed those wherever they went. She admonished herself for even thinking of repeating some psychology theory she’d heard in one of her interviews, but it was true to a point.
What she wasn’t used to and didn’t welcome was being watched. Hell, being seen was already a big undertaking. Having been on the run most of her life, Jesse not only hated to be watched but she excelled at noticing she was. And so, big ass coffee in hand, she turned around to give the would-be watcher a look-see of her own. After a moment she gave him an awkward chin nod for good measure.
“How’s it going?” She asked, in a slightly more overtly confrontational tone than she would have liked.
Given the very early hours of his association with Gaby Teller, a confrontational woman wasn’t exactly new to him -frankly most agents were confrontational at first, but he rarely took it personally. “Abysmally. You?” Nothing like being honest.
He might’ve left the three piece suit behind for now, slumming it in slacks and a simple shirt, but it did nothing to affect his near impeccable manners. After all, you couldn’t soothe someone’s attitude by meeting it with a similar attitude.
“Trying to remember if I saw you at the soiree the other night, sadly my wits were most definitely not about me towards the end of the night.” Which was putting it mildly. He’d been fantastically distracted, as he was sure Kore wanted. “But I did see you there, right?”
Jesse wasn’t used to brutal honesty from other people, so when the man in front of her confessed to be having an abysmal day Jesse’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She blinked a couple of times, nodding. “Had worse.”
His interest in whether she had been at the party the other night or not, however, made Jesse frown. Why would he care, she asked herself - or, more likely, the entity within herself to whom she spoke when other people would ordinarily be speaking to themselves.
“I mean, I was there. For a while. So maybe?” Jesse took a sip of her coffee. “Why?”
He supposed he’d had worse days -several through the war, probably his afternoon with Rudy, possibly some of his childhood- but they were all distinctly in the past, and he was dealing with this now. He should’ve stayed in bed longer.
“No particular reason,” Napoleon was nosy by nature, he liked to know things, place people. It was a habit really. The more he knew the less likely he’d get caught off guard by things. “One of those age old ‘getting to know people’ things, I suppose. Especially if we’re all stuck here for however long.”
Maybe more especially if his usual allies were going to be removed from his grasp without warning. “But I would hate to interrupt if you were busy.”
Jesse frowned. She wasn’t used to people - especially not handsome, well maintained people - wanting to get to know her. Emily didn’t count, because Jesse was pretty sure Emily had only been so excited to meet her because of what she was, and had been blinded into casual acceptance by it. But she had rolled with worse, she could roll with this.
“Uh, okay. Well, hi. I’m Jesse. I’m not from around here.” She shuffled awkwardly over to the man and took a seat nearby. All so very awkward. Or maybe she was projecting and it was just all very normal. Jesse looked at her drink and sighed, then drank some more of it. “And… what about you?”
Before his training with the CIA, as minimal as that had been, Napoleon had always been able to make himself comfortable in any role. It served him decidedly well as a thief, and then in the field as a spy. “Napoleon,” it was honestly rare that he gave out his first name, preferring to use his last name, but it wasn’t like this place was going to have the same effects. “A pleasure to meet you Jesse.”
Using his coffee, Napoleon gave a slight salute with the cup, smirking just a little at the comment about not being from around here.
“No, definitely not from around here. Well,” technically he was from near Nevada, but there definitely wasn’t a place like this in his world, “Not this version of here, at least. I was born in California at least.” Not that they’d stayed there long. “Can’t say it’s terribly familiar though,” leaps and bounds new, at least, since he’d been flung decades into the future. “I skipped about sixty years.”
Jesse tried - and failed - not to snicker at the name. It was just odd to meet someone with the name of a prominent historical figure, and an unusual one at that. She managed to give him a sheepish smile. “Uh, yeah, you too.”
Jesse listened to Napoleon explain his situation, raising her brow when he said he had skipped sixty years. Math wasn’t her strong suit by far but it was easy to count back and know what year that meant he was from. “Whoa. That’s a long time. That’s a lot of change. How are you holding up?”
For all she knew, this could be the same as her world, and her times matched, but she doubted it. The Bureau would have swooped in on this whole thing by now for sure if they existed here.
“I’m from around the same time as here, just not… I mean I don’t know, for all I know this is the same universe as my New York, where I was before. But I don’t think so.”
A significant change to be sure -beyond just technological advances, the fact that nuclear weapons were just something that many nations had now, that the Cold War was something of an anti-climax, that facism wasn’t as dead as it should be… All those interesting developments that weren’t easily explained but somewhat important. “It’s a process.” Napoleon wasn’t a great learner, not unless he had to. But figuring all this out was something of a necessity, especially since his teammates were gone now.
It did seem like most people were pulled from some version of their world into this one -otherwise why not just leave? But it wasn’t like there was a manual that came with things.
“It does seem unlikely, doesn’t it? It’d be far too convenient if you could just hop a train and be back home.” Although it’d be interesting to see if that was possible. “But do let me know if you decide to try it.”
“Yeah, I bet it is. Lots of people with rights and everything too. Hey, I’m no expert on the current times but if you need help navigating it, I mean, I was born in the nineties so I can probably help out.” Jesse smiled.
He hadn’t even been around for the birth of death metal, amongst other things she held dear. Like huge lattes and faux leather - that last one needed confirmation though. Although, who cared when faux leather became a thing? In the grand scheme of… well, things.
Jesse shot Napoleon a smile. “Why, you wanna hop on a train to New York? I wouldn’t mind trying.” She shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
The rights that people had, the fact that there’d been movements to obtain them, yes. Napoleon was still getting used to those -he’d read up a little on the Civil Rights movement, and then the gay rights liberation, the progression on womens rights, all the small changes that added up to such huge differences and Napoleon was a little shocked at times to read about backlash to those things.
Then again, given what he knew of when he came from, it wasn’t like those bigots would like to be challenged on their beliefs. “I appreciate that.” Understanding the finer details wasn’t exactly something you could get from a book or the internet -which was interesting all on it’s own.
But the question of ‘what’s the worst that could happen’ made him grin, because he asked that all the time and the worst was usually getting shot -sometimes worse still- but it never actually stopped a repeat in the actions. “Well, we could blink out of existence, but I’m not sure we’d notice that anyway.”
Jesse smiled and nodded at Napoleon’s appreciation. She knew the value of having a little help navigating the (often frightening) unknown. And although she probably couldn’t hold a candle to an eldritch being who had taken up residence inside her, she should pay it forward anyway.
“Are we sure that’s the worst, though?” Jesse asked, a little bit of humour in her voice even though she was completely serious. At least oblivion didn’t feel like anything; the worst fates were those where you had no choice but to be around for it all. “Yeah, see, if we noticed the void - that’d be the worst that could happen.”
Jesse took a few more sips of her coffee. “Cheerful conversation, huh? Probably regretting striking up a conversation with me to see if the day got a little better. I would be.”
It would be less of a drama to not notice, and after his fun time with Rudy, well, Napoleon was fairly certain that noticing you were being sucked into a black hole likely would top that experience. There was a hard to suppress shudder at the thought.
“My usual conversation partner is a testy Russian who speaks in stilted irritation,” ah, Illya and his disapproval. Hard not to miss the idiot sometimes. “So this is about as bleak as those conversations get anyway.” Gaby was usually a bit more upbeat, but she did have her moments too.
Draining the last of his coffee, Napoleon settled the cup at the centre of the table with disinterest. “At the very least we’ll have a theory to test if and when this place gets too much of a mind-fuck.”
“I’ve heard of the bleakness that comes naturally to a Russian.” Jesse commented with a smirk. She shrugged and sat back, a little more relaxed. “Guess I can’t compete. Is your Russian friend also from the sixties? That’s gotta be interesting.”
Jesse also finished her coffee then, probably having slurped it with a lot more gusto than Napoleon even though she was still unsure whether she actually liked the stuff or was only used to it by now. After all, she hadn’t started drinking it out of any sort of wish to but rather because that was what adults did and she had been, trying hard to fit in and disguise how young she’d been.
“Yeah, well, give me a call when that happens. If that happens. I’m kind of curious.” She glanced around. “Guess until then I better try to “settle down”, huh? Nowhere to go.”
“We’re basically the start up for a joke. A CIA agent and a KGB agent working together.” Hard to say how long for, but they had, at the very least, built some respect and trust with each other. “At the least it’ll be an experiment.”
Brushing some lint from his pants, considering if it was worth it to try just now purely because Gaby and Illya had already been sent off, presumably back to their world, onto the mission. The hope was that he’d arrive back the same time as he’d left, even if he stayed here longer. That Gaby and Illya weren’t left without him in the field.
“Only kind of at the moment, eh?” He wasn’t in a rush to accidentally murder himself or Jesse though. “Might as well give it a try, right? Which might mean a job.” And Napoleon rolled his eyes at that.
Jesse couldn’t help a chuckle at the idea of a CIA agent and a KGB one working together and becoming friends, but she liked it. Kind of askew, the way she liked things to be.
“I’m all about the scientific method these days.” she replied, shrugging. She wasn’t, but she was surrounded by scientists who were and they had rubbed off on her. She tapped the cup on the table nearby, smiling at Napoleon’s question. “And a little bit of fear. Everything that makes me curious makes me a little scared.”
In response to Napoleon’s assertion about jobs Jesse rubbed her eyes and sighed. “I’ve worked in the service industry a lot, I’m sure I’ll find something underrated and underpaid to do in no time. What do you think you’ll go for?”
Running his tongue around his teeth, Napoleon thought about qualifications versus interest to work out just what he might look into doing.
He should probably avoid anything like his usual habits, stealing from any of these displaced people, or indeed the locals, probably wasn’t his best idea. Then again it wasn’t like anyone needed a spy around there. “Probably something mind numbing. I’m annoyingly good with numbers.” Usually altering them, or making them work for himself.
“Unless a Cold War breaks out, I doubt my previous employment will be required.” At the least it meant a lower risk of capture, torture or death. It almost meant there was no CIA pulling his chain constantly either. “I dare say something will work out.”
Worst came to worst, he was a decent cook.
Jesse couldn’t think of anything duller than being an accountant, but she also did not doubt that it would be a little more interesting here than anywhere else. She shrugged.
“Well, it’s a living I guess. I’m sure even here they could use accountants. Funnily enough the position I sort of fell into right before coming here was perfect preparation for being here, but I don’t think it can translate either.” People just let this stuff happen here, and as far as Jesse could tell there wasn’t money in studying whatever the hell happened here all day. “So… night shift jobs it is all over again. Probably better that way.”
With a sigh, Jesse pressed her palms to her thighs and got up from her chair. “Tell you what, you hear of any cool jobs give me a call, and I’ll do the same. Oh, same about finally wanting to hop on that train.” Jesse smiled and gave Napoleon a halfhearted wave. “It was nice meeting you, Napoleon. See you around.”