Siblings

who: jackson & jenny
where: her place
when: afternoon

Humming to herself as she walked down the hallway to her apartment, Jenny pulled her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door, entering and locking it behind her. Today was nice - did everything she needed to, went out and started working on not being quite so terrified to be around people she didn't know. Cheyenne was a nice girl with great taste in the statues of the city and fun to talk to, too. All in all, productive day.

Setting her things down on the table in the living room, Jenny slipped off her shoes and sat down on the sofa, tucking her legs up beside her as she cracked open the book that had been on the table. J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit was a perfect read for the end of a nice day. She settled back in the throw-pillows and began to read.

Jackson had been having the worst couple of days in the history of, uh, ever. He'd been checking on Jenny a lot of late, but honestly? She made him feel better. She was the one person who seemed to actually need him, and like that he was there to help, rather than throwing it back in his damn face all the time. So he made his way, sleep deprived and still aching from all 2 day old bruises, to her apartment. Making sure she was okay was higher up on the agenda than usual, too, after the doll incident - which he was trying to brush off as a spooky coincidence, but wasn't quite able to yet.

He knocked sleepily on the door, the "secret" knock he had hooked up with her - 3, 2, 1 - so she didn't let strangers in. He leaned his weight against the wooden frame of her door and waited for Jenny to open up. He hoped to heck she had sandwich making ingredients in her apartment because he was hungry.

Jenny looked up from the book at the first knock - stilled, then relaxed when the "secret" knock finished. She had giggled for a full minute when Jackson had come up with that idea, if only because he had delivered the idea with a blank, utterly serious face that had always made her smile despite herself, though she did think his idea was a good one. It had made her feel more comfortable when she got up to answer the door.

Placing a book mark between the pages, she set the book down and stood, crossing the room to stand at the door. She peered into the peep-hole, saw her brother's tired face staring back, and stifled a gasp. He looked terrible! Unlocking the door, Jenny opened it and stared at him. After a second, she blurted out, "Jackson! You look like you're about to drop!"

"Hello beautiful," said Jackson, pleased beyond belief that she didn't seem to be weepy, "I am tired and sore and hungry, and you always make me feel better, so I figure I'd drop by and make sure you was doing okay. Work has been...well, work." he smiled big and flashy, trying not to let how shitty he felt seep through his expression. He never liked to let her see when he was feeling down. So tired? Tired they could work with. But falling apart? Not so much.

Jenny huffed once and took him by the forearm, pulling him into the apartment, absently locking it behind her. "Come in, sit down," she said as she led him towards the couch. "You need to take more time off. I hate it when you get like this. There are other cops to do... whatever you do."

He dutifully allowed himself to be pulled after her, trying not to wince - he still hadn't let her in on the knowledge that underneath his shirt he was black and blue - it wasn't good to make her worry. "Hey, no cop is better'n me at what I do, so don't fuss your pretty head about it. Tell me about your morning instead." He liked to hear about her day if she seemed to be doing well. He knew she'd been going to the Library, which he didn't exactly approve of, but it was good she was getting out. So long as she carried the mace he had given her, all was more-or-less well.

She gave him a look, the patented "little-sister-knows-best-so-shut-up" one, but eventually decided to let it go. He wouldn't take time off, probably even if she begged him to. So instead she said, "I took a walk through the park. I met a girl, a photographer, named Cheyenne. I showed her some of the statues in the park, so she could take pictures of them." She sat down next to him. "What about you?"

"Oh, you know, woke up, got dressed, forgot to shave, stumbled over here to see my favourite gal. Boring same olds," he said laughing at her look and walking into her kitchen to paw through the contents of her cupboards, "Tell me about this girl Cheyenne - talking to strangers in the park ain't high on the list of smart things to do, honey - and have you eaten today?" He spoke with a slightly parental tone as he found bread and mayonnaise and started a search for some kind of meat.

A little defensively, she said, "I know, Jackson. I know, but she's nice. She used to be a model, but is trying to be a photographer now. We just walked around taking pictures." A pause, then she said, "I ate this morning, but I'm a little hungry now. Could you get something for me, Jackson? Please?" She flashed him a smile. Today was a good day.

"Of course I can sweetheart. Best sandwich you ever had comin' up," said Jackson (who was already spreading slices of bread thick with mayo on her behalf before she asked him to) frowning slightly at the word 'model' and looking over his shoulder at Jenny with an eyebrow raised, "And what kind of model? I don't want you gettin' ideas, kiddo, she could be anyone. She could just be tryin' to hook pretty girls like you to come work for peanuts in some dirty back alley studio. Just... be careful."

Jenny rolled her eyes, making her look like a teenager again. "No, Jack, she never told me what kind, but I know, I know." She let her annoyance show in her voice, before she softened it, looking him in the eye. "I'm careful outside. I swear. Besides, I'm not interested in that. Too many people looking at me," she finished a little uncomfortably, crossing her arms. "I'm happy with people just reading things I write. Don't have to deal with people directly."

Jackson frowned with concern as he finished making her sandwich - thick slices of turkey meat and tomato, combined with too much mayonnaise and not enough lettuce, typical hungry boy-cop sandwich - he was glad she didn't have her sights set on being some pinup girl, but her antisocial tendencies worried him. His hypocrisy regarding Jenny was something he was all too aware of - that he wanted her to get out in the world and live her life, but still, wanted to keep her sheltered and safe from the big dark city. He knew how dark it could be, and until he could fix it for her, he'd never feel like she'd really be okay.

"Well as long as you're safe and happy honey, I can't ask for much else I guess. Here's your sandwich. You wanna tell me how your little stories for the paper are going?"

Her face lit up and she grinned. "Great!" She exclaimed, moving her hands animatedly as she spoke. "I got some letters - sent to the Echo, not here - from parents saying how much their children love some of the things I've written. It's..." she trails off with a quiet smile, then finishes, "nice, to have people other than you or mom reading my stuff."

"That's good," said Jackson with a mouth full of sandwich, moseying through into her sitting room and slumping into his usual armchair, "I'm proud of you, and earnin' a little can't hurt... you get a lot of reader mail?" he kept his tone neutral, but he was fishing to find out if she ever got sent anything that would be cause to worry.

She shook her head, accepting her sandwich from him and taking a bite. "Nope. Just a little. A couple a month, I think." Finishing her sandwich, Jenny pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them comfortably. "So, what's up, Jacks? How are you? How's work? Anything interesting going on?" She rested her chin on one of her knee caps, watching him - the perfect picture of attention.

"Interesting as it ever is, don't worry, I'm keeping the bad guys where they belong - in jail. As for how I'm doing, I got myself a sandwich, and my favourite girl is all sunshine, so what could be better?" Mostly these were pretty little lies for her pretty little self - there was no way talk of serial killers and whores would be reaching Jenny's ears. He was pleased, though, very pleased, at how happy and together she seemed considering how she had been last week. It was always fluctuating with Jenny - and of course he worried that she'd get too bold and do something dumb like get a motherfucking tattoo, but while she was like this? He could deal.

He slumped back in the chair slightly, his sandwich finished, and folded his hands across his stomach - sprawling exactly like their Dad used to after a big ass meal. He didn't want to let anything bad play on his mind while he was here with her, but certain thoughts kept creeping - about how he ought to be dealing with Eris' information, and visiting that Ginger chick, and all kinds of things - and especially now with thoughts of his Dad, it made him wanna get drunk.

He looked at Jenny with a lopsided smile and beckoned her over, "C'mere. Come give me a hug. I ain't gonna stay long because I figure I cramp your style, but I'm really proud of how good you're doing, you know that?"

"Keeping bad guys in jail," Jenny repeated, forcing a small, worried smile. "Good. I just - just, Jackson?" She waited until he looked at her. "Be careful," she told him, meeting his eyes. "I don't, I don't know what I'd do if something bad happened to you." She blinked several times, staving off tears. She refused to cry in front of Jackson, he clearly had too many things to worry about and she hated making him sad or angry or worried.

She dropped her arms and legs down and slid down the couch towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. "You should know by now that I don't mind you coming over. I love it when you visit. And yea," she continued, "I know you're proud." Jenny smiled a little. "I'm just trying - I wanna... wanna get better, you know?" She tightened her hold on him for a moment before sitting back.

Jackson ruffled her hair and kissed her roughly on the top of the head while she spoke, "There ain't nothing wrong with you sweetheart," he said smiling gently at her with a slight confused air as she slid away from him, "It's everyone else who is the problem - don't cry, ain't no reason for it, you're fine as you are."

He never quite got why she started off when she did, and it made him awkward and uncertain of what to say. He tipped his head at her and winked casually. If she still needed him to stop by every day, he would - time be damned. Babylon be damned. Jenny came first.

Jenny wrinkled her nose when he mussed her hair before reaching out with both hands and pointedly ruffling his hair beyond recognition. Then, she hugged him again. "You're a good brother, Jackson," she said with a smile. "Even if sometimes you're annoying and overprotective and yea." She ducked her head and muttered something about never trading him for anything. Then, "Love you, Jacks."

"Hey!" exclaimed Jackson jokingly, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to get it to lie down flat, but he was laughing. He wrapped his arms around Jenny and pulled her close, sighing slightly. He wished it could always be simple like this. He longed for simple and safe, for Jenny to be happy, "Well you ain't exactly a hairdresser, you goof, but I wouldn't trade you for anything either."

Then he yawned unexpectedly, his lack of sleep starting to catch up with him. Jenny's apartment was warm, and smelled a hell of a lot better than his. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the sofa, still holding Jenny softly against his chest. "Might need to take a nap, sweetheart. That okay with you? You wanna tell me a story?"

She slipped her arms around him, pressing close and tight, her cheek resting against the fabric of his shirt. No matter how good or bad her day had been, being near Jackson had always, always made it better. Even when he'd leave she'd still feel safe for sometimes days afterward. "You want a story?" She asked, prodding him in his side to let her go.

When he did, she stood up and walked over to the linen closet and removed a large, fuzzy blanket her mother had gotten her. She bypassed her small book case as she returned to the couch, draping the large blanket around both of them. She didn't need the book for this one - she knew it word for word. Jenny settled back against Jackson and started to speak. "On Christmas morning, the boy couldn't wait to go downstairs and see what Santa had brought him. The night before, he could hardly sleep, thinking about all of the wonderful presents he would receive. Normally, the boy's stocking was filled with candy, but this year it held a wonderful surprise: a velveteen rabbit..."