ArchivedLogs:A Favour: Difference between revisions
(Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Eric, Jackson | summary = Jax is probably going to regret sending Shane an Eric on his birthday. NOT ''FOR'' HIS BIRTHDAY OK. | gamedate = 2013-03-20 ...") |
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| cast = [[Eric]], [[Jackson]] | | cast = [[Eric]], [[Jackson]] | ||
| summary = Jax is probably going to regret sending Shane an Eric on his birthday. NOT ''FOR'' HIS BIRTHDAY OK. | | summary = Jax is probably going to regret sending Shane an Eric on his birthday. NOT ''FOR'' HIS BIRTHDAY OK. | ||
| gamedate = 2013-03- | | gamedate = 2013-03-21 | ||
| gamedatename = | | gamedatename = | ||
| subtitle = | | subtitle = | ||
| location = <NYC> 303 {Holland} - [[Village Lofts]] - East Village | | location = <NYC> 303 {Holland} - [[Village Lofts]] - East Village | ||
| categories = Telecommunications, Private Residence, Citizens, Mutants, Village Lofts, | | categories = Telecommunications, Private Residence, Citizens, Mutants, Village Lofts, Jax, Eric | ||
| log = RING RING. Hi Eric's phone. /Jax/ is calling you, this is unusual. He has never done this before. | | log = RING RING. Hi Eric's phone. /Jax/ is calling you, this is unusual. He has never done this before. | ||
Latest revision as of 01:46, 20 May 2014
A Favour | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2013-03-21 Jax is probably going to regret sending Shane an Eric on his birthday. NOT FOR HIS BIRTHDAY OK. |
Location
<NYC> 303 {Holland} - Village Lofts - East Village | |
RING RING. Hi Eric's phone. /Jax/ is calling you, this is unusual. He has never done this before. The phone picks up, Eric's drawl slightly muffled by wind blowing by. "'Ello, this is Eric." "Hi, um, hi. Sorry. Hi," Jackson sounds -- a little apologetic. A little awkward. "Hi, Eric. S'Jax, I -- you busy?" "Jax." Eric sounds quite surprised, and the wind blowing by slows down as there is a soft squeak of bike brakes. "I'm at work, in the park. What's up?" "Oh -- sorry," Jackson says again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to -- sorry." He swallows. "I just -- I needed to talk to you -- sorry. I can call later. Or can you -- when do you get off?" "Later, hopefully." Eric says, brightly enough. "No apologies needed, honey. I can talk now; just on patrol. I get off at six." This is met with silence. It's probably good you can't /hear/ blushing over the phone. "Six," he says, "um, do you think maybe -- six. Um. Could you come -- come over? When you're -- after you get off? I gotta -- I need to -- ask you. A thing." "Come over? I'll be there." Eric says, voice almost a purr. "Six-thirty, ish." This next is not into the phone. "Hey! What are you doing?" "Sorry, I have to go." Click. It is several hours later when Eric shows up in front of Jax's door, dressed in a hip-hugging pair of blue-jeans and a shirt, and sufficiently toussled hair to look good. He knocks on the door in a quick little rhythm, and takes a step back, one thumb tucked into a pocket. Jax is still dressed from work, although you wouldn't be able to tell -- his attire is more high school /student/ than high school teacher. Capri jeans with straps hanging from their D-rings, bright mismatched socks, bright mismatched armwarmers, a green t-shirt that has a picture of a girl hugging a cow. His hair flops down over his forehead in feathery pink-and-green. He looks a liiittle tense-awkward as he opens the door, giving Eric a small smile. "Hi, Eric. I -- um." He blushes here, deep. "M'sorry to -- I -- thank you for --" His hand scrubs through his hair and he gestures Eric inside. Eric's eyes sweep over Jax's clothing - and body - appraisingly. His smile widens and he nods, stepping in. "I haf'ta admit, I'm kinda surprised you called me. I assumed somethin' was terribly wrong, but...." he trails off, shrugging his shoulders with a warmth to his smile. "I guess no'." He pauses, chuckling. "I had to come in through the back. Seems you're a pretty popular guy, if you're goin' by the paparazzi." Jackson shudders, his polite smile briefly fading into a look rather more tired. But the smile returns a moment later. "Yeah, I'm honestly gettin' more'n a little tired of having to sneak in to my own house." His cheeks flush dark under Eric's appraisal, his head bowing as he closes the door. "M'kinda surprised I called you, too," he admits. "But I -- I wanted --" His blush deepens. "I -- Igottaaskyouafavour," he says, quiet and rushed as the words tumble out. Eric takes another step closer to Jax, eyes smouldering, as his grin widens. "You wanted." he says, a faint smirk playing about his lips. "What's your favour, Jax?" he asks, voice hushed with a tinge of dusky tone. He takes another step forward, eyes sweeping up and down Jax again... hungrily. This does not help the blush, and Jax's eye widens, his back against his apartment's front door. He looks over Eric, quickly, then looks away. "No, I -- it's --" His nose wrinkles. He looks back up at Eric, straightening a little bit. "S'the twins' birthday," he says. "They're sixteen today. I can't see 'em. You can." Eric pauses, and from the flicker to confusion on his face, you can almost see the gears in his head grinding. He glances down, and takes a step back, lips pursing. "I can't go there too often, or that woman might mention it in the report to OCFS and find that there is nothing ongoing." He turns his neck from side to side and takes another step back, turning away from Jax as he takes several pacing steps backwards. When he turns around, the smile has been wiped clean off of his face. "Did they transfer schools?" "Please," Jackson looks down at the floor again as he says this. "I just want them to get their birthday presents, I don't -- think they're gonna have a real great birthday." His hand lifts, scuffing through his colourful hair. "I don't know, they wasn't at school today," he says, his default-neutral smile fading into distinct distress. "So I guess they're puttin' 'em somewhere else, I don't know where's gonna treat them good. Please, I -- it's just this once." Eric's lips purse and then he nods. "Let me see what I can do." he says, running a hand through his hair. "Give me a minute." he turns away from the other man, tugging his phone out of his pocket with a dip of his fingertips and staring at the black surface for a moment. "Where are they living now, do you know?" "I -- they was in Staten Island but they had some --" Jax hesitates, winces. "There was problems an' they switched houses again an' now they're in the Bronx. Bastian done give me the address, I just. Just, please," he says again, quiet. "We were supposed t'have a party --" This trails off, and then he smiles; not quite as bright as his usual but still. "We're /gonna/ have a party it'll just be a little late." "Bronx." Eric glances over the surface of his phone, and dials a number quickly. He lifts the phone to his head, voice going quieter as he speaks with someone on the other end. "Richards, it's Sutton. I'm calling in that favor." He glances back at Jax, taking several steps away. "I need you to make a squad car vanish for a few hours, and lose a case if OCFS comes calling." Jackson falls quiet for this. Fidgety, but quiet, rocking restlessly from heel to toe and back, hands wringing together. Mussing with his hair. Fidgeting with the straps on his jeans. His expression is hard to read as he looks at Eric, but his gaze doesn't leave the older man throughout this conversation. "Alright. Thanks." Eric hangs up the phone, putting it in his pocket and then turning to face Jackson. "Give me two hours or so." he says, smile off of his face completely. "Where do you want me to bring them?" "I --" The question seems to startle Jax, his eye opening a little wider. "I just wanted you to get them their presents," he admits, with a slight blush, a slight duck of his head. "Eric --" He hesitates, one hand starting to lift as though towards the other man. It drops back to his side, falling with a quiet thump against the front door. "M'sorry that I -- I don't -- I --" He draws in a slow breath. "I just really -- thanks." "Don't." Eric says, giving the other man a look and raising his hand. "If I think about this too much, then I'm going to realize it's not worth my career and going to jail over trying. You can thank me after. Where?" Jackson winces, drawing in a slow breath. Letting it out again. He is quiet as he takes his phone out, opening his texts to pull up a conversation from Sebastian. It is kind of abysmally written in txtspeak on Sebastian's end. A lot of keeping Jax posted on What Is Up (apparently, their 'trouble' at their last house was that Sebastian /bit/ one of the other foster children there), a lot of Jax keeping Sebastian posted on what is going on on his end. There's an address in there somewhere, a place in the Bronx. Jax hands Eric the phone, quiet, still, as he slips past the other man to head down the hall to his bedroom. Eric looks over the phone for a moment, pulling out his own phone to copy the information down onto it. He sets Jax's down on the counter and then heads through the door, closing it quietly behind him. "Steady on, pal." he murmurs to himself. "Steady on." He heads towards the staircase and out of the building to head for the subway. |