Work Text:
The crisp autumn air inside the Sunny Bridges Auditorium smells faintly of ozone and old carpet, mixed with the rich, savory aroma of a roasted ham salvaged from the ruins of Orchid Bay.
Johnny adjusts the collar of his black tight-fitting shirt, his hair swooping up into its signature golden pompadour. He shifts his weight from side to side, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he gazes over the improvised spread. He has recently come to the profound, existential realization that his years of flexing at women never actually got him anywhere. Naturally, his solution was to partner up with Jack—a move that seemed totally logical in his mind, even if Jack is still visibly trying to process how, exactly, they ended up in this domestic arrangement.
Jack stands quietly near the end of the long folding table. Physically, he bears the visage of a twenty-five-year-old warrior, though the centuries spent in Aku’s dystopian future make his biological age closer to thirty-four. His stoic, dark eyes scan the cavernous auditorium, watchful and ever-vigilant despite the holiday atmosphere.
Suddenly, a slender figure glides into their space with unnerving grace. Katz, the red-furred, smooth-talking feline from the Nowhere territory, sidles up right beside Johnny. His voice drips like warm honey as he purrs, leaning in to flirt, trying to draw Johnny's attention away from the feast. Johnny blinks, momentarily off-guard by the sudden, velvety intrusion.
Before Katz can take another flirty step forward, a sharp shhh-tink echoes through the hall. Jack steps into the light, his hand gripping the hilt of his ancient samurai sword, the cold steel unsheathed just enough to catch the flickering overhead light. His posture is rigid, his expression unyielding, projects an unmistakable warning. Katz stops dead in his tracks. Reading the immediate, lethal room dynamic, the cat offers a polite, feline-like bow, turns on his heel, and briskly slips away into the shadows.
Johnny watches the red cat retreat, his face splitting into a broad, thrilled grin. He turns back to the samurai, completely oblivious to the danger that just passed, thrilled by the display. "Do the monkey with me!" Johnny booms, throwing his arms out and instantly breaking into his loud, energetic dance routine, knees pumping and shoulders swinging in full early-2000s energy.
Jack lets out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, the corner of his mouth softening just a fraction. He steps toward the table, fluidly drawing his blade all the way out. With blinding speed and effortless precision, he executes a series of clean, silent strikes through the air. The salvaged Orchid Bay ham glides smoothly into immaculate, perfectly even slices, falling onto the platter in a neat cascade just as Johnny finishes his dance routine with a pose.