(no subject)
WHO: Mitchell Hundred and Jessica Jones
WHERE: GRACIE MANSION
WHEN: Friday night!
WARNINGS: Many ways to use the word fuck
SUMMARY: Kickin' in the mansion that's more of a museum
FORMAT: words
He'd called Jessica, and left a message for her to come by the mansion, if she had time tonight. It was supposed to sound innocuous, but with Mitch, the wording was almost clandestine, and he'd kicked himself afterward. Always toe the line, and make sure it could be tracked.
He did want to speak with her, though. Had been meaning to. He was starting to feel naked without someone around to watch his back. It was silly, yes. How many Mayors had a bodyguard? Sure, it was listed as head of security detail, but hey. It was really bodyguard. It just felt weird, and he really didn't want to have to admit it to anyone (even himself) but he was missing Bradbury's over protectiveness. Hell, he missed being bitched at when he used his powers to keep himself safe.
So he was nostalgic, but it was better to admit this, and move on from it than dwell. He didn't like dwelling, it just always seemed to happen. No, he couldn't keep on this line of thinking, so in preparation, he poured a healthy amount of whiskey into a glass, and downed it.
WHERE: GRACIE MANSION
WHEN: Friday night!
WARNINGS: Many ways to use the word fuck
SUMMARY: Kickin' in the mansion that's more of a museum
FORMAT: words
He'd called Jessica, and left a message for her to come by the mansion, if she had time tonight. It was supposed to sound innocuous, but with Mitch, the wording was almost clandestine, and he'd kicked himself afterward. Always toe the line, and make sure it could be tracked.
He did want to speak with her, though. Had been meaning to. He was starting to feel naked without someone around to watch his back. It was silly, yes. How many Mayors had a bodyguard? Sure, it was listed as head of security detail, but hey. It was really bodyguard. It just felt weird, and he really didn't want to have to admit it to anyone (even himself) but he was missing Bradbury's over protectiveness. Hell, he missed being bitched at when he used his powers to keep himself safe.
So he was nostalgic, but it was better to admit this, and move on from it than dwell. He didn't like dwelling, it just always seemed to happen. No, he couldn't keep on this line of thinking, so in preparation, he poured a healthy amount of whiskey into a glass, and downed it.