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This is it.
Julia’s big Four-Zero. Why are you the one feeling old? Fuck. Is this what your twenties are actually like? There isn’t much you want to remember from the first time you went through them. Then again, Jack’s under a different kind of pressure these days.
The healing bruise on your jaw makes it a little hard to smile evenly, but you manage. With a good concealer and some ice, even the shittiest of meetings won’t slow your roll. You brush a hand over the velvet of your suit. Dark red turned black in the evening shadow. Definitely not nervously. This might be a bit of a gamble, but you’re feeling lucky.
high rollers
casino lights
laughter. the star of the show
The gathering is a little smaller than expected. Not too different from the gala where she first took Jack out. But oh, the people.
You never had the courage to ask Julia as Miriam, but a little digging shows that she made a lot of enemies after your untimely exit. The same old game: let one friend die, alienate the rest. You never would have guessed that some of them would have said yes. Sentinel, Pyroclast, even Chen’s in there, being undoubtedly very uncomfortable. The band’s back together, for one night only.
Even through the bay windows, Julia is resplendent as ever. Brilliant under the chandelier. Dressed to the nines. A charming hostess, playing the part of older and wiser. Little do they know.
Jack (Workout) 7:30pm
[Long time no see.]
Jack (Workout) 7:31pm
[Hope I haven’t crashed your party.]
Jack (Workout) 7:32pm
[Can we talk? I’ll be out by the fountain.]
J. O. 9:52pm
[This had better be good.]
You’re a little high off of adrenaline. So close to so many heroes. Would it feel this… much, as Miriam? A ghost from the past, come back to haunt everyone? Then again, in that body, you’re even more of a criminal. Saboteur, hero hunter, terror of headlines. Jack is sneakier, risqué not risky. Everything is picture-perfect: a tall, dapper stranger—a mischievous younger man at that—sneaking into an exclusive party to greet the gracious hostess. The paps would eat it up if they knew, but you’re smarter than they are.
Of course, you aren’t who Julia really wants to see. Jack, not Miriam. Isn’t that a first?
You tease anyway. “Not happy to see me? After I dressed up and everything.”
She’s fuming as she approaches. A lioness in a floor-length gown. Her heels make her a couple of inches taller than even you. Sharp, sharp, click-click on the pavement. Stilettos, like the knife. She looks like she would put them between your ribs, if you were slow. If you let her.
Miriam might have, at one point. But Jack will not.
“Jack.” No witty repartee, just wariness clear in the set of her shoulders, the tightness of her grasp on her champagne flute. Huh. You didn’t think she especially liked champagne, but it’s expensive enough for a bash like this. The look, more than anything.
You know what that’s like. You keep your grip on the bottle of whisky and the benign smile pasted to your face. Don’t break character.
“Aren’t you worried some villain’s going to sweep in and ruin your special day?” You wave your hand at the pairs and trios of chattering visitors inside. “There haven’t been this many celebrities in one spot since—”
“Cut it out, Jack. Why are you here?” she interrupts. Crisp, impatient. Nothing like the way she used to speak to you before—well. You don’t have to be a telepath to know that this is not the question she wants to ask.
“To give you your present, obviously.” Ignore it. Easy breezy. “I have something you might like. Granted, it’s not Saboteur tied up with a little bow but—”
“How do you know what I want?” Oh, the bit about Saboteur struck a nerve, huh? Haha. Is she still sore about the gala? Or is there something else? Maybe it’s good that Miriam is out of her reach right now.
You mime a little surprise, raising your eyebrows. You can feel the irritation sizzling off of her. You’re wasting her time. Playing with fire, but who said you didn’t like watching things burn? “I pay attention, Julia. Very close attention. And given your history... I don’t think very many people inside are too keen to gift Charge alcohol these days.”
A muscle in Julia’s jaw twitches. Ooh. Mean, but not Miriam-mean. She was always too soft on Julia, even after everything. Not Jack-mean either, he was a bit of a tease and not much more than that. This is new.
She scoffs incredulously, like she can’t believe what’s going on. “No mames… If you’ve called me all the way out here just to insult me—”
“Not just that. I promise.” You gesture with the bottle, holding it out like a peace offering or a shield, and hope your expression sells it. The way she looks at you says it doesn’t. “I haven’t done anything to it. Or to her.”
“So you know where she is.” Bingo.
Yes and no. The whole… she thing is in question, but you can’t tell her that. Who even is Miriam anyway? Whoever’s piloting her body? Are you?
(You’ve been inside this skull for a very long time.)
“I can tell you that she’s... healing well,” you hedge. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Miriam.” You press down on the laugh that bubbles up. How true that is, and how false. You were trying to protect yourself, sure. But Miriam is the only person you’ve ever been able to hurt—leverage. A puppet on strings. A chip in a game.
A chip in Julia’s game.
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t. And you don’t.” You can feel your smile thin. “But I came all the way out here to tell you what I can. And after everything, you still came out to see me when I asked. So I’d say we both took our chances, wouldn’t you agree?”
Footsteps. You edge closer to Julia, hiding your face a little further from view. Charge is a formidable woman regularly, and today she’s the star of the show. No one would dare disturb a conversation between close friends. Especially not if one’s a Ranger. She steps back, winds up a little on impulse, and you don’t flinch. Is she going to layer the bruise, or give you a matching one on the other side?
it’s fine you’re fine
She doesn’t strike you. But barely.
“I think you understand that I’m the only hope you have at ever finding Miriam again,” you say. This is closer than you’ve been in a bit, and it’s awkward. Neither of you is quite breathing. Strange to think that it wasn’t that long ago that you two were flirting in the park. “And I’d like to help make sure that you get her back.”
“Huh. And what would you have me do?” Oh. Easier than expected, though Julia looks more nervous now than she did earlier. There's a lot you can ask of a Ranger, and she might even actually do it.
“Keep in touch,” you cover. Did you think you’d get this far? “And don’t be a sucker, Charge. This whole city is caving in on itself. We don’t need you in the ground as well.”
Julia’s brow furrows. “That’s it?” Puzzled. Startled. She was probably expecting worse. Honestly, so were you. Being nice to Charge? Who is this even for? You can’t remember. But this is enough for tonight: just make sure she’s hooked in. Give her something to keep you around for.
“My job is to make things happen, so I will. We were friends once, I won’t make things harder for you than I have to.”
“You already have, but fine.” Grim. Frustrated. A little disbelieving. But it’s a truce of some kind. The two of you will see this through. You know it now.
Footsteps again, the sound of scattered laughter. People coming your way this time. You turn to face the noise, feeling a practiced, disarming smile stretch across your face. You don’t have to look at Julia to know that she’s done the same. That’s just what she does. The look, more than anything. It‘ll drop as soon as danger has passed.
“Enjoy the whiskey, Jules,” you murmur, once the visitors have passed. Maybe you’ll find out who they are after this. It won’t be too hard, and you’ve pretty much done all you can here. For tonight, anyway. “Many happy returns. Now get back to knocking ‘em dead.”
Julia finally takes the bottle. She stares at you for a long, long moment before the brilliant smile stretches back across her face. Her eyes—so brown in the half light—stay hard. “Thanks, Jack. Be seeing you.”
And then she leans in and kisses your cheek. Her lips are warm, soft, a little sticky with lip gloss.
Right on the bruise.