Perfect Gentleman

Who: Jackson and Kess
Where: Outside Rock Bottom
When: Night

The argument had started inside, though kess knew that it was really her own fault. She should know better than to go to an O'Malley haunt on her night off, but some of the girls from Babylon had called for a night out, and the bright idea had been that maybe if they went to the Rock Bottom, given who it was run by, they could get cheap drinks. It had worked as well - they'd been there half the night, drinking largely for free, but then some of the O'Malleys had come seeking their 'payment'. Doing what they did, most of the girls weren't surprised, and had put out - if not happy about it. But Kess wasn't 'most girls' - and she didn't do that sort of thing, not for a living and not for free drinks. She'd offered to pay her bill, hard cash. She'd been turned down. And then when she'd punched Keenan O'Malley in the face for trying to get his hand up her skirt, she'd found herself lifted off the floor between two of his thugs and marched to the door. They weren't gentle about literally tossing her out onto the street and into the gutter, but at least she'd got to see Keenan standing at the door, the white handkerchief he had pressed to his face swiftly turning red as he swore at her and they all headed back inside. Hopefully she'd broken the bastard's nose...

Jackson was drunk. Really, pretty damn drunk. The kind of drunk where he thought hiding behind a dumpster outside a criminal establishment was "looking for clues!" and a hobo had crossed the street to avoid the sway in his step. He had started his evening with "classy" drinks at the Drake, looking to drown his sorrows away from anyone in the force, and then that had turned into some way less classy drinking from his hip flask. He was now stationed outside the Rock Bottom, swaying slightly and grumbling to himself about "stupid fucking Mick's think they own the damn world" when he saw someone being tossed into the street with great gusto. A woman, by the look of it, and that was something that even non-drunk Jackson wouldn't abide.

Drunk Jackson, however dealt with it in a very uncool fashion. He stumbled out from behind the dumpster, brandishing his badge in front of him (although there was no-one to see it now, apart from the woman sprawled on the pavement) and said, "Hey, that's assault! No way to behave, I'll put every last one of you in jail... jerks. Are you gonna be okay ma'am? Lemme help," kneeling beside her and offering a slightly dirty hand and a very lopsided grin. He probably stank of Scotch, and his vision was a little blurry, but he wasn't too drunk to function, not yet. That was maybe 3 more beers away.

Kess pushed herself to her feet, brushing off the help of the guy who'd just appeared out of nowhere. Right now she did not want to have to deal with another creep with wandering fucking hands. She brushed herself down - though they'd managed to throw her right into the gutter, so that mostly meant spreading out the mud and filth that she'd landed in and looked at the guy. "You steal that badge, or is it real?" she asked him. At least if she was flithy, she wasn't as drunk as this one.

"I don't steal," said Jackson, sounding slightly hurt at the suggestion, and he put his hand on the ground to push himself up. There was much wobbling, and he had to grab onto the dumpster to steady himself, but he was on both feet and looking at the woman, so it was a win against gravity. "I'm a detective, lady, so if you wanna press charges against the rat bags in that... place" he spat, glaring at the bar in front of them, "I am your guy." Yeah, he was gonna get the O'Malley's. He was gonna clear them out of Babylon and out of Brett's life and now he was gonna arrest them for hurting this nice woman. He hated those bastards.

Kess raised an eyebrow, looked back towards the bar, then at the guy who claimed to be a cop. "Mister? If you're not a thief, then you're just flat out insane," she declared, stooping to put her shoulder under his arm and help him up - up and away from Rock Bottom. "You really wanna go trying to arrest those guys? You'd need to be a cat with nine damn lives, that's for sure - and you're just not cute and furry enough. And last time I saw a cat? It didn't reek of scotch. And you do - and I think what you need right now is a cup of really strong coffee, and a lay down," she told him, taking charge as she made to march him down the street.

"You sayin' I'm not cute? I object. Who're you, anyway, and how come you got yourself bum-rushed outta that joint? C'mon, lemme help. No-one ever lets me help," said Jackson, sounding...well, drunk, and not sad but kind of stroppy. He would've objected to being strong armed by a woman but he somehow convinced himself that he was helping her home, and flung a possessive arm around her shoulders.

"No, no - you're very cute," Kess told him, humouring the drunk guy. "You're just not all covered in fur and you don't have a tail. Now, where do you live and we can get you home," she suggested to him, since the streets looked completely devoid of cabs right now. Typical. but, she wasn't going to leave him here like this. He'd get himself mugged or worse, the state he was in. "And you can call me Zac," she suggested, giving him her nickname, rather than her first name and completely avoiding the question of what had happened in Rock Bottom, hoping he'd maybe drop the subject.

"Zac? Sweetheart that is a boy's name at best, and probably fake. C'mon, I ain't gonna give you trouble. I'm a cop. I'm one of the good guys. I'm bringing down the O'Malley's, you know that? They ruined my friends life and countless girls in that whorehouse they run, and I got just what I need to ruin 'em, so you don't got to worry about me. Not a damn bit."

He was off on a tangent now, speaking with the loose, good-humoured quality of a drunk. He pulled away from Zac's grasp on him and began to track back with faltering steps, still looking at her and pulling his hands through his hair, making it stick up even more than usual. "I oughtta go in there and tell 'em what I think of them hitting on girls. Dumb Irish inbred fucks oughtta learn to respect the damn law."

"What can I say - my momma wanted a boy," Kess told him. And, hell, it had been what her brothers had called her, growing up. She'd not gone by Kess until he'd hit high school. "And woah there, big boy - I don't think you're in any state to go telling anyone how it stands, so how's about you and me, we go get out of here?" she suggested. She knew just how many of those 'dumb Irish inbred fucks' were in that bar at the moment, and as much as she'd love to see someone take them down, she really didn't think one single drunk guy who could hardly stand was gonna get very far.

"Hey, I am in a damn fine state, I'm full of vigour and fucking... valorousness," he snorted, turning back to face her with one fist is the air - mock triumph. 'Valorous' had been what the paper had said, hadn't it? But those Echo idiots, ha, they didn't know a damn thing about anything. He squinted at Zac, narrowing his eyes with new suspicion If she didn't want him to go beating up and arresting people maybe she was one of them, another mob hussy - they were thick on the ground of late "What's your last name any how, and how comes they were kicking you out. You never did tell me."

They were far enough away from Rock Bottom now for Kess to feel better about things. Like they weren't going to suddenly be set upon. She'd kept him walking while she dodged and he made declarations. "I didn't want to pay for the drinks they gave me," she told him. "At least not the way that they wanted me to pay, so I was asked to leave." It was better than the alternative, though she figured there'd be hell to pay tomorrow at work. No change there then.

Jackson gave her a look that was meant to be knowing but came across more as if he was short sighted. "You suck at answering questions, lady. Either you avoid or you sound like you're lying. You ain't one of them, huh? Criminal element? I bet you are. I bet I found my own dangerous mob girl," he was talking with a light good natured tone (and frankly, a little too loudly) but there was a trail of something darker underneath.

Kess gave him a Look. "Yes, yes - I'm a dangerous mob girl. You caught me red handed, officer," she deadpanned. She didn't consider herself a 'mob girl'. Sure, she worked at Babylon, but that being part of the mob hadn't been the choice of any of theirs, not really. Nobody had asked for their opinion, and she'd much preferred it before. No, she was just a bartender, nothing more, nothing less. Not involved in anything illegal, other than turning a blind eye. And Kess had long since decided that that didn't count. that was just the way of the world. "You were going to tell me your address, so I could make sure you got home okay," she reminded him, treating him much more like a fall down drunk than a police officer.

"I ain't gonna let you walk through the park late at night all on your own. I ain't even that drunk!" Jackson exclaimed, with the typical denial of somebody who was clearly very drunk, "I can watch myself, you on the other hand are a lady and I oughtta see you home - even if you are some mobster and won't answer my questions straight."

"I can catch a cab home - whereas you? I dunno. I could see a cabbie deciding that you were gonna throw up on his back seat and leaving you to walk. Cos, mister? I've seen enough drunk guys in my time to know that you're just plain lying. You're that drunk. But sweet though - wanting to see me safe, even though I'm a mob doll and all," she joked, lightly. "So how's about you tell me where you live, we get you home and maybe I could call a cab from your place? Do you have a phone?" she asked him, wondering if it was a bad idea to really be pushing to take this guy home. But still, cop, and for all he was drunk as a skunk, he seemed like an alright guy, someone she would be safe with. Which was more than could be said for a lot of guys out there.

Jackson laughed and swayed back over to Zac's side, coiling his arm around her shoulders again, "You're mighty keen to take me home, huh? And here I was on a stakeout mission, wasn't expecting to meet a pretty dame," and winked at her in a jovial fashion, "Well, you hafta let me pay for your cab 'cause I'm a gent."

He'd been distracted momentarily by Zac from his O'Malley blood-hunt, but he was still disappointed he hadn't seen anything nefarious (from his vantage point of behind the bar's dumpster...) and he paused for a moment to look over his shoulder the way they'd come. "Although, thinking on it, you ain't really an O'Malley, are you? Because I ain't giving you my address if you are, I'm dragging you to the cop house."

"Honey, if I was one of the family, then Keenan O'Malley wouldn't have thrown me out on my ear for telling him where to stick his dick. They might be scum, but I don't think incest is really their thing," Kess told him, bluntly. "And sure, you can pay for my cab - I promise not to reveal the deep secrets of where you live to anyone."

"You can keep a secret?" said Jackson, still good-natured, "That's good. I'm a man with a lot of secrets. And if I'm as drunk as all that who knows what I might spill?" he nudged her arm and grinned at her, "'Sides, you just earned yourself points by calling the O'Malley's scum. That's a pretty good attitude, honey. What did they do to you? Seems to me they done somethin' to everyone."

Kess eyed him up, sideways, wondering if she should tell him. After all, he was a cop, but... he as a cop. Probably better to keep her mouth shut. But then again, he was drunk as anything, and if he took it badly then he didn't have her name and maybe she could just disappear. Maybe. "I tend bar in one of the joints they run and a couple of them really don't like that that's all I wanna do. The O'Malley boys don't take rejection too well," she told him, keeping the detail to a minimum whilst still telling him what exactly her troubles were caused by.

Jackson nodded, taking in what she was saying in a fuzzy sort of way. "What establishment might that be, where they want you to start doin' stuff beyond the call of duty? 'Cuz if it starts with a B and rhymes with...uh...Mabalon...I might be able to help you out," he performed his usual act of digging through his pockets for a business card (it was going to be time to get more of the fucking things printed) to hand her, "Heck even if it in't that establishment I can help you out anyway. I got my sights set on those Irish assholes. More inside info couldn't hurt a jot."

Usually he wouldn't have been so quick to jump to assumptions, the O'Malleys ran a lot of places, but his judgement was about as bleary-eyed as he was at the moment and Babylon was weighing heavy in his thoughts. Babylon and Brett and Eris and all the crap he was going to have to dig through - hell. He needed people on his side. This chick could be a start for that. He needed Danny back. He wanted to raid Babylon ASAP and Danny could help him with that. Help him pick out the clean uniforms. Ugh.

Again Kess eyed him as they turned down towards the park. "You suck at rhyming, officer... Haas," she said, taking the card and glancing at it before thrusting it into her pocket. "And I would have thought you wouldn't be wanting to help out someone who worked at that place," she added, carefully, not admitting to anything. But still, she was a bartender. She'd not done anything illegal. And that was a justification she used to herself a million times a day, especially when she thought of her daughter. Her daughter whose daddy had probably convinced his daughter that her mommy was a whore.

"I'll help anyone who deserves it, sugar, and you told me you was just a bartender. Ain't nothin' illegal there. Anyhow whores... I don't mind whores. I mind the people that whore 'em. You give a whore a way out and she'll take it and that's what counts, ain't it? Shouldn't be doin' that to yourself and your dignity, ain't moral, and I'll arrest 'em if I catch 'em but not outta spite. Everyone's gotta redeem themselves for somethin' it seems. To me anyway."

Jackson was rambling, but the things he said were true - he became worryingly honest when drunk. And tonight he was slaughtered, "Nearly at my place," he said, squinting through the darkness at a familiar tree, "You gonna come up? Or am I gonna wait on the street with you while we hail a cab? Your call." The offer to come up was not a sleazy one - he'd got his sleazing out of the way earlier, mostly, with Evelyn. He was kind of beyond that stage. He just wanted this woman with the boy's name to be safe, and his tone was one of concern.

"I'll come up," Kess told him - she didn't want him falling and breaking his neck tripping over his own feet on the stairs, and she'd feel better about things if she knew he was safe at home and just a crawl away from the bathroom. "And, okay then - yeah, I work at Babylon. Just as a bartender," she stressed, in case he did a drunk guy 180 and changed his tune.

Jackson fumbled for his keys, dropped them, scooped them out of a puddle and swore loudly. The second try was more successful as he managed to get the stairwell door open while inexplicably standing on one leg (the other was pressed against the door to help him balance - and open it, the thing could be stiff). After that display of physical prowess he turned to Zac and grinned his broad schoolboy grin, gesturing to the open door. "After you, ma'am. My apartment's 3 floors up, green door. And as far as working at Babylon goes.... well. I forgive you, considering bartending's legal an' all. Maybe you'll get your chance to quit sooner'n you think, huh?"

She looked at him as she walked inside, smiling herself at the grin - it was kind of disarming. "Oh goodie - I get to be out of a job!" she quipped, upbeat, though that was actually a concern. She needed to do something to keep the money coming in, and that job had been good to her. She had no idea what she'd do if the police shut the place down, that was for sure.

Jackson rolled his eyes at her as he hauled himself up the stairs - he was trying to appear sober but the way his hands clenched at the banister told a different story. "Hey, sweetheart, you could find another job easy, pretty thing like you. Nice accounting firm or somethin' - heck I'll put in words at the station if you wanna get yourself cozied up in the file room. 'Sept it leaks somethin' rotten down there."

Kess wriggled her fingers at him. "Have to be able to type to do that, sweetie. And I wouldn't even know where to start. Anyhow, I'd make a really shitty secretary," she added, watching him as he made his way up the stairs. "So - you gonna be in trouble for hanging round the O'Malleys after you've been drinking? Wouldn't there be hell to pay if you busted open your big operation or something?" she asked.

"No-one knows about my big operation, too many chances it'll get fucked up, I ain't telling anyone about it until right at the last moment when I need the manpower to raid the place and put all those scumbags away, so, no. No trouble with anyone but myself on that count. Nice of you to worry though," he turned and winked at her as they reached his front door and again began the almighty fumbling quest for keys. He wasn't even really aware of the fact that mentioning the word 'raid' was a terrible idea considering he was talking to a Babylon employee - dumb, drunk Jackson had already put her into the 'good people' camp without much thinking about it.

Kess eyed him. "So you don't trust anyone that you can tell, but you'll go... Okay, sweetie, whatever you say," she decided, sounding amused and dropping the subject. no harm, no foul, after all. And she didn't bat an eyelid at the word 'raid' - she figured that was part of the deal, what with him being a cop and all. It did, however, make her pretty interested in finding out the 'when' of it all. After all, she counted some of those working girls as friends, and she'd quite like to give them a heads up to make sure they were home sick or something that day. "So, when's the big take down gonna be going on?" she asked, ightly, as if she was only vaguely interested and making conversation.

Jackson tapped the side of his nose and grinned at her again. He'd probably have told her - the conversation seemed to be going that way - but he hadn't quite decided yet, so he simply made a joke out of it. Soon. Soon as possible. Arrest everyone in the building and shut the place down for good. Yeah. He finally nudged his front door open with his shoulder and stumbled into the apartment. It was a typical single dude apartment - managing to have nothing much in it but still be kind of messy. It smelt like spaghetti sauce and cologne, and the only really "personal" touch was a framed family portrait of Jackson and Jenny towering above their little Italian mother and grinning like lunatics. "Come inside, phone's by the window - I'll call you a cab though because some of those companies are crooked. You want somethin' to eat?"

Kess headed in an looked round, trying not to be too nosey, but she was, really - she loved other people's places, finding out about what people had and that little insight into their lives. She noticed the picture and looked over at him. "No thanks, I'm good - she's pretty," she said, gesturing to the young girl in the picture.

"Ain't she?" said Jackson, rummaging through the pile of paper by his phone looking for Ralph's number - Ralph was Jackson's favoured cab despatch guy because he spoke Italian and didn't hire sleazebags - to call for Zac, "She's my kid sister. She's a smart cookie, but you know how kids are. Do dumb stuff. You worry about them," he still spoke about Jenny as if she was 12 all though in the picture she was clearly more like 25, "You got siblings?" he asked Zac, tucking the phone under his chin and beginning to scroll in the number.

Kess' smile tightened a little, faded from her eyes somewhat as a range of other emotions flashed across, warring with each other. "I... Four brothers," she told him, avoiding the use of either 'had' or 'have' there. After all, it was not entirely certain which was the right one to use.

Jackson grinned at Zac and looked at her with the good-natured kind of expression that made it clear he wasn't hearing what she was saying. He got an answer on the end of the phone and held a finger to his lips. "Ralph? That you? It's Jackson... My mother's fine, how's your wife? Good! Listen, send a cab to my place would you? You got a pretty girl to pick up. No, I ain't bootin' her out... don't swear at me you putz. Okay, hang on," he glanced up at Zac and winked, covering the mouthpiece, "Man wants to know where you live, sugar? So I can get a price out of him. He don't let the women he picks up from here get in the cab unless I pay the driver beforehand."

"Down on Ivy," Kess told him, wondering about that. About what kind of women usually left from ere that would be a fare-dodging danger. She wouldn't actually do that kind of thing - but he'd promised to pay her fare anyhow, which she was fully intent on letting him do, that was for sure. She was grateful, though, that he didn't ask anything else about her family. That wasn't a particularly pleasant subject for her.

"Ivy, she lives on Ivy. Yeah sure, the driver'll be here in 5, got it. Goodnight, Ralph," Jackson hung up the phone and sighed, smiling at Zac in a relieved fashion, "That guy can talk the ears off a donkey, you know that? He tells the driver not to pick anyone up unless I pay first hand - don't approve of me not lettin' a lady stay the night, so he won't let her pay. Not that I'd let her pay either - and one night, heck, that ain't so bad. It's the nights after I got a problem with. No time, no time and no skill for any of that."

He slumped into his couch, and undid the top two buttons of his shirt - glad he'd already discarded his tie earlier in the night. He was starting to feel tired and bleary eyed. He had work tomorrow. Hell.

Kess raised an eyebrow as she looked down at him. "You cab company would prefer... You know, next time you should tell him that he's got a shitty business model," she advised. "Cos, if girls stayed, they'd probably walk home in the cold light of day. You're giving him custom. you and everyone else in this city who likes to cut and run." Which was a lot of people, she guessed. "You gonna be okay?" she asked him, looking closely at his drunken state.

"Ralph gets plenty business. He's got morals is all. Wouldn't get my business if he didn't. And I'm fine - it'll be tomorrow when I wake up with a hangover Danny McKinnon himself would be in awe of that I'll be cursing," he laughed sharply mentioning Danny's name, and pulled his hair back out of his face, "Anyway. That ain't nothing. How're you doing? You got bumrushed out of a bar and I didn't so much as check you for bruises. Some gentleman I am, huh?"

Kess laughed a little at that. "I'm just fine, sugar - don't you worry about me. I've had worse bruises in my time, these'll be nothing. Anyway, I'm a girl that knows how to land," she told him, though some of that was bravado. Some of it was truth though - Eugene had been a violent bastard, and he'd left his fair share of marks on her in the past. A girl got used to playing down the effects of violence, a way of keeping some semblance of self esteem.

Jackson tsked and patted the couch next to him, "Sit for a while anyway, take some weight off them feet that just hauled my slovenly ass up them stairs, huh? We got a couple minutes before your driver buzzes up for you. Yeesh. A woman shouldn't have to worry about bruises, ain't right. Lots of things a woman shouldn't have to worry about - I'm gonna fix it. All of it," he said this with a sleepy drunken conviction and a goofy smile, obviously content in the knowledge that every single problem in the world was fixable if just you had the right attitude and morals.

Still looking amused, Kess sat - and was actually grateful for it. She'd been drinking as well tonight, but she felt positively sober next to this guy. Then again, she'd always had a good head for the demon drink. "So - you're a hero out to save the world then?" she asked him, shifting sideways on the couch to bring one leg up and tuck it under herself so that she could look at him whilst they talked."

"Hero? Nah," he said chuckling, "Heroes don't make stupid mistakes, or go out and get sloshed 'cause they got too much crap to be thinkin' about that they can't handle... heck. No. I can handle it," he turned to her and rolled his eyes, "Aw, whatever, I talk out my butt sometimes. Wish I could be a hero. Easier that way. How about you? What did you wanna be when you was all small and cute? I'm bettin' bartender weren't on the list? Not that you ain't cute now."

"Me - mostly I wanted to be a boy," Kess told him. "It always seemed so more interesting to be a boy - they had all the fun in life. Plus, they didn't get shouted at when they came home with their clothes ripped and covered in mud," she said, decisively. "And, come on now - no heroes are perfect. i'm sure that most of them think that they're not all that great, it's just that they get through it all and all of a sudden people are throwing roses and shit like that."

"Ha, it'd be a real waste if someone as pretty as you was a boy!" said Jackson sounding incredulous, nudging her arm lightly with his hand, "'Sides, you get to go out and rough and tumble but then what? World's on your shoulders. Gotta look after your whole family, all the time. Not that I would ever want to do anything else, of course," he said smiling, simply stating the fact, "Family's the most important thing out there."

"I'm sure if I was a boy, I wouldn't be considered 'pretty' - but thank you for the compliment, sugar. But - you think the world's not on your shoulders if you're a woman?" she challenged. "is that it? Because, if that's what you think - you are so wrong mister, really you are," she told him.

Jackson shrugged, "It's different for single Moms, like if your husband is dead or run off on you, some real asshole, but if you got a decent man? Ain't nothing he'd let you worry about. Not if he's any kind of real man, and that is why I got my own favourite cab company to take girls home, because I couldn't promise that kind of dedication to any woman, and that ain't fair," he responded in a loose, slightly slurred manner, his eyes drooping into a half-closed state.

"Not everything in life is 'let'," Kess told him, standing up and bristling at him. Anyway, she didn't believe in 'decent men'. Not outside her own family. her daddy, her brothers - they had been the last decent men around. All of the rest of them were just bastards and pigs. She played nice when she had to, but she wasn't some kind of a romantic fool. "You need to give me cab fare before you fall asleep," she told him, knowing she wasn't being as nice now as she had been, but he'd strayed onto the subject of her husband, though he wouldn't know it, and that always got her back up, without fail.

Jackson slowly sat upright and dug through his pants' pocket for his wallet, pulled out a couple crumpled bills and handed them to the woman, grinning with a slightly glazed expression "Sorry sugar, I almost forgot!" he picked up on her frostier mood but his alcohol-filter made it because of him forgetting the money rather than any of his comments, "I'm sorry I dragged you all way back to my apartment so late at night and was such a crappy host, and I hope you don't do nothin' dumb when it comes to that place you work. Don't let 'em push you into anythin' dangerous, and if you need someone... well, you got my card, right?" he said, putting a hand on her arm - half to steady himself and half to be reassuring.

"You didn't drag me anywhere," Kess reassured him. "And yeah - I got your card and, y'know, maybe you could tip a girl the wink before you go rushing in? I wouldn't want to be caught up in the mess now," she added, defrosting a little as soon as they were off the topic of her husband, not making any move to remove his arm, but being aware that if he tried to walk her out, she'd be stopping him with that. "Anyway, darling - you should get to bed, I can wait for the cab downstairs," she told him.

Jackson shook his head vehemently, "No way, this neighbourhood is full of little punks. Well, not full but... y'know how it goes," he shrugged, preparing himself to go look for his coat, and possibly shoes (forgetting he hadn't actually removed his shoes) and walk her out into the street when the bell in his hallway chimed, "Oh..oh! Taxi man! Maybe he's been waiting for us? Well okay, then... Zac, I guess you get off home free and don't hafta spend your leisure time with a dashing cop," he winked at her, placing his free hand on her other shoulder and pulling her into a weird, sloppy sort of hug.

Kess hugged him back, making a decision. "Kess," she admitted to him as she pulled back. "Kessler - Phizackerley. Which was why the Zac. People call me that as well, it's one or the other. But at work, mostly I'm Kess." Mostly she knew it was so that if he did decide to let her know beforehand, he's know who to get a message to - though she was stopping short of giving him her address. but it was also a sign of trust as well.

"Kess. Okay, Kess," said Jackson with a nod, "I like that a darn sight better'n Zac, y'know, and thank-you for givin' a guy some company," he narrowed his eyes momentarily, hoping that whenever he decided to go for Babylon in the next few days she wasn't working - hoping even harder she hadn't been lying about only being a bartender. But she seemed legit. "Hope everything works out for you - I'll see about that job in the file room huh?" he quipped with a wink as he walked her back to the hallway - meaning it.

Kess quirked a smile, keeping him steady as he walked her - though she pretty much was of the opinion that she was walking him right now and she hoped he didn't do himself an injury once she'd left. "Sure, you just do that. Hell, if you succeed with your raid thingy, I'm gonna be out of a job anyhow, and I gotta make rent." Kess pretty much didn't mind what she did - thought she knew she didn't have the education for a lot of things - as long as it was pretty much legit. She knew she'd taken the Babylon job because she'd been very desperate. Desperate enough to turn up looking for a very different type of work. She'd never be able to thank Eris Stockard enough for not letting her go there, though part of her thought that the woman had only been looking out for the place's business interests. 'Unwilling' hadn't gone with the place, not at the time. These days? It was a different story, but then, all the girls had wanted to be there. Still, she could have just shown her the door. The woman didn't need to find her a job. "Look, officer - you... promise me you didn't hear this from me? But... See, before? Before the owner was really careful - that. Look, we both know that what goes on behind those doors isn't strictly legal. Not the back rooms, but before it was above board. Before - all the girls knew what they were getting into and limits were in place and I know it wasn't legal, but. I can't justify that to you - but i can tell you that some of the girls there, now? They don't want to be there. There's at least a couple of girls - new girls. And new like 'they don't speak any English and they're new to the city' new. Brought in at night, never get to leave, kept away mostly from the rest of us. It never used to be like that. Please - don't bring me into it, but, maybe that'll help you."

Jackson furrowed his brow at her change in track, and nodded gravely, "Listen, ain't nothing that's ever gone on in that place sat right with me - but I got sources. I can get in there and stop it. I can fix things, I can... I just... I gotta do it right this time. I gotta do it by the book. You keep my secret and I'll keep yours. We'll get it cleaned out, honey. Won't let that meddling bitch use me as her pawn.... we'll close it down for real, and won't let it open again, I won't have any more abused girls in my city" he rambled, half as much to himself as to her - although his expression was one of genuine concern for the woman, "Not by anyone, so look, maybe you oughtta take a few days off work, huh? You're a good girl, I can tell. I don't want you gettin' hurt."

Kess frowned - nowhere near as drunk as he was and much better able to follow his line of ramble. "What meddling bitch?" she asked, confused by that much. "But - I can't take time off. I haven't got any owing and if I call in sick, they'll just come round and check and I don't want those guys in my place. But... Friday, I'm not working Friday. And I'm only working the evening shift tomorrow," she told him.

Jackson nodded, "Well that's good to know. I'll remember. I'll remember your name and all that, yeah. You're not a meddlin' bitch! Don't worry about it. Go get your taxi," he smiled sleepily at her and ruffled his hands through his hair, making it stand on end even more, "And promise me you'll be safe, hear?"

Kess looked at him for a moment, then laughed a little and smiled. "Take care of yourself, officer," she said, making him no promises - who could make a promise like that in a city like this anyhow? She knew she couldn't. So, she wouldn't as she turned and headed out to get the cab.