17641/A Little Bat Told Me

A Little Bat Told Me
Date of Scene:	14 April 2024
Location:	Luke's Bar
Synopsis:	Jessica comes by Luke's and he gives her the warning from Batgirl.
Cast of Characters:	Luke Cage, Jessica Jones

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Luke Cage has posed:
Luke's Bar isn't usually a rowdy place; people know better. But Saturday nights get a little feisty what with all the Harlem kids wanting to really let loose, and Luke's being the one place where they can do it while knowing that if things get out of control, someone's going to put their foot down.

At the moment, there's at least two birthday parties and one bachelorette party going on, and no booths available. Bailey --a young Afro-Latino guy-- and Kylie --a white girl from upstate who is majoring in drama-- are working the bar and the tables, while Luke is towards the end of the bar, handling customers if they need anything the other two can't handle.

For the most part, it's not that bad. Only about twenty people. It's gotten worse, but it's definitely rowdy compared to a weeknight.

Jessica Jones has posed:
Then trouble shows up.

Trouble in the form of Jessica Jones, who strolls in off the street with her raven black hair a mess atop her head, if only because she tried to pull it into a ponytail so some is coming out to frame her pale face. Which is home to a pair of shades despite the fact that it's a little after sunset.

Most of the locals and regulars know her.

Very few of them are fond of her.

But Luke does, so they give her space as she makes her way through the Saturday night crowd with a plastic smile on for anyone who says hello when she's crotch to ass passing between them on her way towards the far end of the bar where Luke is leaning against the surface. First thing that comes off is her camera: Set down as she's sliding up onto the stool. Then her shades, revealing blood shot eyes and a shiner. "Before you ask, the other guy looks worse." She belays any questions.

"Busy in here." It's been worse.

Luke Cage has posed:
"Even with a shiner, it's not that hard to look worse than you, Jess." Luke seems amused by Jessica's entrance and commentary. He glances over at the crowd and shrugs. "It helps. Saturday's the busy night that makes all the other empty-ass nights worth it. Pays the bills, anyway."

He turns to put the glass away. Then he picks up a tumbler, sets it in front of Jess, and pours her a finger, setting the bottle aside. "How're you doin', Jess?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Ha-fuckin-ha." Is the dark haired P.I.'s retort, but she's smirking when she gives him the sarcastic reply. Greatfully mouthing 'thank you' when he pours her a drink, which she immediately swallows in one jerk of her head. Her hand falls upon the bottle to begin refilling it before she's even finished the first. "Sure." Absently glancing back over her shoulders at the touristy 'gentrified' crowd.

She doesn't say it, of course, it wouldn't be politically correct to say it in 2024.

"I'm fine." The shiner says otherwise, but it's not as if she's never showed up sporting a black eye before. Brow furrows, thumb slides between her lips to suck liqour from them before closing around the glass she filled to the rim. "How about you? Staying out of trouble?"

Luke Cage has posed:
"You know me, I stay out, but it reels me back in." Luke seems amused. "Batgirl paid me a visit the other night. She's _concerned_ about us, cuz we don't do the mask thing and the Russians we helped with a few weeks back are looking to retaliate."

He shrugs a bit, then takes the bottle again and pours her another. "So consider this your official warning: the Russians want us dead."

Jessica Jones has posed:
The mention of 'Batgirl' and Jess is narrowing her eyes. Ready to take a sip from her upheld glass, she pauses long enough to listen to what Luke is relaying from their red headed compatriot, "Uh huh." The whiskey in the glass disappears down the pale woman's throat. Who, for the record, doesn't even hiss as it burns down into her guts.

"Russian's want us dead every other week, though..." That's a gross exageration, of course. A grin curling one corner of her unpainted lips. "Appreciate the concern for our well being, I guess? I don't know."

She pours more into her glass. "I can't figure her out."

Luke Cage has posed:
"Seems this time it's more personal?" Luke shrugs. "But I told her the same thing. It kind of comes with the territory."

Her concern about 'getting' Batgirl gets a smirk from Luke. "She ain't that hard to figure out. She's like you or me or Matt... maybe a little less emotionally damaged than Matt. And she's from Gotham, so the mask and the ninja moves are default over there. They don't have people like you and me on the side of the angels."

He folds his arms over the bar. "She didn't want to go warn you herself cuz she wasn't sure you'd react well to someone having tracked you down. So she came to me first. You might not have her figured but she's got you pegged, baby."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"As if I'm all that mysterious." Jess flicks her hand through the air dismissively at being 'figured out', "I'm pretty sure my pleasant attitude and agreeable disposition has fooled the vast majority of the occupants of Harlem to stay the actual fuck off my lawn." That same hand combs back her black hair from her face, tossling it with the ends of her fingers. "Fucking Gotham."

As for whether she'd have been pleased by being tracked down... well they both know how that would've gone.

So instead of aknowledging exactly how pegged she been gotten, Jess smirks at Luke. "You like her, huh?" Brown eyes flick up and down, leaning back away from the bar with the support of her palms on the edge to keep her from dropping off the stool. "Oh yeah.. you like her."

Luke Cage has posed:
"I'm not sure what that has to do with anything," Luke says, neither confirming nor denying whether he likes Batgirl one way or another. Because he's smart that way.

"Don't get all territorial on me now, Jess. It's not a look you can wear like a pair of tight jeans," he teases.

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jess leans forward onto her arms, crossed over the edge of the bar. The heel of a boot hooks the bottom rung, "Yeah, you like'er." The smirk doesn't subside even a little, which means she's gone from serious to fucking with him. "I'm not being territorial, I'm being 'observant'." Air quotes. "Like a good 'P.I.'" Air qoutes.

Tight jeans. She glances over her shoulder, then back at Luke, one brow perked. "Took me twenty minutes to squeeze my ass into these jeans, I'll have you know."

Luke Cage has posed:
"Yeah? Was it the tightness that kept you or your general hand/eye coordination and balance?" He's firing back, and smiling. It's so easy to fall right into that comfortable, cushy vitriolic back-and-forth with her, and Luke rarely if ever resists the urge.

"Or what you got underneath?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
A derisive snort.

Jess grabs for the glass and drains it, wiggling the empty tumbler at him. One arm lays easily across the edge of the bar to support her weight. While she's a few miles from her usual level of drunk, she's definitely edging on tipsy by the sheer amount she drank in such a short period. "Some of column A. Some of column B."

A smirk curls her lips, glancing back over her shoulder then back up at him.

The ease with which she can fall into the comfort trap of this conversational loop with is one of the few comforts Jessica actually has. "When do you get off? I have to go meet with a client..." Flicking a waved finger at the camera sitting beside her, "We could go steer up some shit somewhere later?"

Luke Cage has posed:
"Well, I am the boss," Luke points out, taking the bottle and turning to place it back on the shelf. He turns back to her and smiles. "So I guess I get off a little while after you get back from meeting with your client."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Good to be the King." Jess chims with a smirk, pushing back off her stool to fish out some bills to toss up on the bar. It's hardly enough to pay for what she drank, but it's probably the sum total of what she has to give.. Nobody can say she doesn't try, at least. "Wont be but an hour or two."

Her hand falls upon the camera and hoists it up, "Try not to get gentrified while I'm gone, huh?" Next are her shades, but she throws him a wink before heading back through the crowd with the same plastic grin spared anyone whom she jostled in her escape.

Luke Cage has posed:
"I'll do my very best," Luke says with a shake of his head and a laugh. Then he turns and points. "Hey! No dancing on the tables, ladies!"