Work Text:
“You got another fine,” Jacques said as soon as his sister entered the cramped apartment they shared.
Kit didn’t even raise her eyes from the page she was reading.
“Put it with the rest of my mail.”
“You are about to lose your driver’s license.”
She mindlessly nodded.
“You’re a taxi driver.” He said, not satisfied with her reaction. “What will you do about it?”
“D can make me a new one. It’s no big deal.” Kit said, placing a bookmark in her book. “And the taxi is temporary. I am a librarian.”
“You will use falsified documents?” Jacques asked, raising half of his eyebrow.
“Everyone does it.” Kit shrugged.
“You are not everyone, Kit.” He said in that tone that always got to her nerves. “Do you even know what the fine was about this time?”
She took the envelope from his hands.
"I went above the speed limit in Alliteration Avenue." She said, opening it. "Two days ago. Then I made a forbidden turn towards the Furniture District." She held out the letter to him, showing that it really matched what she was saying. "They didn't register the fact that I was being pursued, and had to do it to get them lost."
These days he had been staying with her had been awful. He had been fired from his job in the newspaper, and couldn't do much as the firestarters were just waiting for him to show up again to do much worse. He spent most of his time in the apartment, judging every step Kit took. It was tiring.
Jacques took the paper and frowned.
"I know what I am doing, Jacques." She said. "I am not a child."
"You take too many risks." He replied, still sounding unhappy.
"Our occupation has risks!" Kit snapped. "I manage to pay my bills with the taxi, to run errands and to keep up with my research. I do it all my way and I am doing fine. But you can't accept it. You can't accept that for once I am doing better than you, and that all your caution failed you!"
Jacques gave her a shocked look, that he quickly covered with annoyance. But Kit noticed it, and for a second she wondered if she went too far. But she was too mad at how he had been treating her to try and take it back.
He approached her and took the keys from her hand.
"Hey!" She protested.
"I will go for a drive. Don't worry, your car will suffer less than it usually does in your hands." He mumbled, before taking his hat and coat and leaving.
Kit felt like she should stop him, but she didn't really want to. She was still mad. So she let him leave, and took one last look at the fine. In truth, she didn't need to drive so fast that day to lose her pursuers. For a moment she had been really scared, as she almost crashed into a trolley. But it was not like she would ever admit that to Jacques.
She tore the paper and went to her room.