Owner	Pose
Luke Cage	This time, it's before opening. Luke is sweeping the floor of the bar after opening the door to let some light in, though the sign still reads CLOSED outside. He's in a pair of jeans, a yellow t-shirt, and his workboots, making sure that all the glass and other debris gets swept out from under the booths and tables. It's not fun work, but he does it while listening to Wu-Tang, so it's pleasant enough.
Jessica Jones	Ahhh the Wu-Tang Clan.     Ancient Shoalin rappers from the Staten Island monistary. It's early enough that Jess is still neck deep into a hangover by the time she pads her way in through the front door, despite the closed sign. Perks of friendship, probably. That and she's got Chinese food. A pair of containers in a plastic bag, with her hair down over her face, a pair of shades on her eyes, and her usual attire... though it looks like she just rolled off her bed into it about long enough ago that her she went straight from the apartment to the chinese place, to here. "Food."
Luke Cage	Luke stops sweeping and glances over at the door. For a moment he looks like he's about to tell her they're closed, but then he recognizes her and chuckles, going back to sweeping. "Smells good. You sleep in your jeans again, Jess?" He can tell. He can always tell.
Jessica Jones	"No." Jess says this absolutely deadpanned, what a crazy notion, how could she think so lowly of him. "I slept in a different pair." One of the containers it set down on the bar and slide closer to Luke, the other is flipped open so she can pick at the orange chicken inside with one of those white plastic forks. "Got some motrin?" Once she's pulled her shades up onto her forehead, eyes still blood shot from a hard morning.
Luke Cage	"Yeah, in the First Aid kit behind the bar," Luke says, gesturing in that direction. He puts the broom aside and grabs the container she slid over, tipping it a little to peek inside and then grabbing a white plastic fork for himself. He reaches over with his free hand, taking her chin and tipping her head side to side before letting go. "Tough morning?"
Jessica Jones	Squints into Luke's inspection, then jerks her head out of his grip. It's not a hard motion, lord knows that would set off her headache, more pulling herself free before pulling off the stool to head in the direction of the first aid kit. "Yeah." Both hands sweep her hair back behind her ears, kneeling down to grab the kit and seek out the bottle from the container. A few go into her palm, then right into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. "Some fuck housewife paid me to spy on her husband. Wanted pictures of infidelity, blah blah blah, trying to get at his fat wallet in a courtcase." She waves her hand in a circle, old hat. "Anyways, the whole thing reminded me why I hate people." The details, that is. Which she doesn't get into. What she may get into is a little hair of the dog.. grabbing a whiskey bottle as she comes back around to hop up on the stool where her lunch was left. "Romance is dead, you know that?"
Luke Cage	"Is it?" Luke swings a leg over a stool and sits down on it, digging into the container that she passed to him. "I always thought that was chivalry." He rests his elbows on the bar top. "Why do you go looking for romance where romance goes to die, Jess? Marriage, divorce, bitter people doing bitter things. That's not romance. That's jaded. I think the problem is people think romance is forever. But romance is transitional, it comes and it goes. Being romantic without end is as bad as being jaded to the point of no return. All about balance." What Buddhist monk pissed in this coffee this morning? He really needs to stop hanging out with Danny so much.
Jessica Jones	"You sound like a fortune cookie." Leave it to Jess to call him out, though. Even if she does so with a smirk, picking at the chicken in her container while unscrewing the cap of the whiskey bottle with the twist of her thumb and index knuckle. She's multitasking. "I know... I didn't even really care." Stab. The fork prongs plug into the side of a big piece of chicken and she pauses in explanation long enough to halfway chew it before continuing. "It just starts to wear me out. Even if it shouldn't. Not even that their relationship ended, I don't give a crap about that. It's all about the hows. People aren't honest, they have unrealistic expectations, then when they don't get that.. they look for reasons to fuck each other over." Raven head shakes slowly, washing down the rest of the chicken with a throat gurgling swallow of whiskey. "Anyways, it's better than Rich Housewives of Gotham City."
Luke Cage	"Yeah, I know I know, spend less time with Rand." He smirks at her. "It's still true though. The easiest way to get jaded about something is expecting it to exist everywhere and being disappointed when it doesn't. You gotta just be kinda happy it's there when it rolls around." He shrugs. He gives her a _look_ when she goes on about people having wrong expectations and doesn't say anything, just scooping more rice into his mouth.
Jessica Jones	"I'm not talking about us." She doesn't have to see his look to know he's looking at her. She keeps stabbing at her food, now using both hands. One on the container, the other manipulating the fork. Fish in a barrel, that poor chicken. "It's not really about the romance of it all, anyways. It's the absurdity of people..." Fork waves side to side. Then she shrugs, "Whatever, that's yesterday me's problem. Today me has booze, orange chicken, and a nice paycheck."
Luke Cage	"I know." That she's full of shit. "And you're choosing to spend that paycheck with me?" He snorts. "And you say romance is dead."
Jessica Jones	"Who else would I spend it on?" Jess wonders with a snort. "My cat?" She doesn't have one. "Danny? So I can start sounding like you, waxing philosophical." With the fork jutting up between two fingers, she presses her palms together, and bows in his direction. "Fuck that."
Luke Cage	"Spending it on Patsy would probably make her feel like she has to compete, you'd end up at a five star hotel at the gourmet buffet or some shit," Luke admits with a grin. "At least you're getting work."
Jessica Jones	"Where they'd make me put on a dress." As if that would ever happen. Jess smirks and eats some more chicken, nodding absently to the last bit. "Yeah. Taking pictures of husbands fucking in a hotel room... Jessica Jones, this is your life." It's not always like that, of course. The smirk doesn't fade. "Do you /know/ what Foia gras is?" Because she does.
Luke Cage	"I don't know why you're so against wearing dresses. You look great in them." Luke smiles and then shrugs. But he's smiling in a way that she's gonna get suspicious of. "I know what Foia gras is, Jess. Guy in the kitchen back in lock-up, Keith, he did the cooking and was a professional chef, talked about that stuff all the time."
Jessica Jones	"We both know why you like it when I wear dresses, Luke." Jess isn't suspicious, she knows good and well. "Last time I wore one was..." She squints, staring down in the takeaway container.. "Jesus, like a year ago, maybe. That thing for Patsy? You looked sharp with a bowtie." She tugs the chicken off her fork with her teeth, looking over at him, unable to hold back her smirk. "Well it's nasty.. the whole thing. Nasty. And further proof that people are horrible."
Luke Cage	"I do look pretty dapper in a bowtie," Luke confirms, reaching up and pretending to adjust one at his throat. He winks at her. "You have nice legs when they aren't all bruised and jacked up from slamming into things when you run after assholes," he points out. "And even then, still pretty good legs."
Jessica Jones	"Mhm." She can't keep the smirk from becoming a grin at his little pantomime of adjusting a bowtie. After one more stab of chicken, she pushes the container away in favor of draining the glass of whiskey she'd poured. "They're alright." Her legs, she leans back and pats her thigh, then leans forward on her elbows against the edge of the bar. A side glance, brow perked. Her eyes roll upwards, then towards the door. "Hopefully I don't need to chase anyone anytime soon."
Luke Cage	"That's just because you refuse to fly." Luke reaches over and pulls over the container of chicken she just decided she was done with. That's what she decided right? Right. He pokes into it, pops a piece in his mouth. "Maybe if you wore underwear more often it wouldn't be such a big deal."
Jessica Jones	"And have panty lines? I think not..." She manages to sound so much like Patsy, all snooty about her appearance, it's uncanny. A grin on her face. She doesn't stop him sliding over the chicken, but does help herself to another glass of whiskey. "Flying feels like cheating. I like to give them a sporting chance." Sip, low hiss. "Before I beat them half to death with their own shoe."
Luke Cage	"With their own _shoe_," Luke says, tsking his tongue a bit and then shaking his head. "Now that's style. I just throw them through windows, occasionally knock them down by clapping my hands." He takes another piece of chicken.
Jessica Jones	"It's called 'irony', Luke." Jess lays her cheek on her folded arms, "They made me run after them, so I beat them with their shoe. I live my life like I'm trying to get a show on disney plus." Her brow jerks upwards, grin curling on the visible side of her face. "You definitely look hot throwing people through windows, though."
Luke Cage	"I know what irony is. I've listened to Alanis Morissette before," Luke tells Jessica with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure your entire life is too maturely rated for Disney+, even the new, more adult shows." He grins. "I like throwing people, doesn't have to be through windows."
Jessica Jones	"The only thing ironic about that song is that nothing in it was irony." Jess ruins the plot with a clipped laugh, more about his diagnostic of her life than the revelation she presents. Both hands come up and push at the edge of the bar to slide her back off the stool. "I need to pee. Mind if I use the toilet upstairs? I'm not trying to get herpes from one of your degenerate customers bad aim." Proof that she's never getting a show on disney plus.
Luke Cage	"I'm pretty sure that's the point of the song," Luke says with a shrug. He lifts a hand and waves at the door up to his apartment. "Go for it. Though I already cleaned the bathrooms this morning." With bleach. He keeps his place pretty hygienic.