When Superheroes Lose Their Capes (Jackson)

Subject: When Superheroes Lose Their Capes (Jackson) Sun Aug 12, 2018 10:35 pm

It didn't take long for the phone to be picked up, the international dialing tone almost as loud as the thumping of her heart in her chest as she stepped out of the Harrington Home, in to the blazing heat of Carmel and down on to the street. A quick text had already been dispatched, her driver was on his way to pick her up as the familiar sound of Jake's voice broke through the electronic tones of the call.

"Vic! Hey, how are yo-"

"Don't you dare, Jake." The witch replied almost instantly, the whitened anger that had her body tensed in a manner she had not felt... ever... swept through her body, pushing her forward with each step along the side walk as she headed towards the centre of the city she'd come to.

"Victoria..?"

"Don't you dare ask me how I am, or how I am doing, or... anything." Victoria had cut her brother off, not wanting to listen to his lies any more. How many times could he have told her in the last nine months? How many times had he purposefully left out details that would have been easy to give her? Would have let her know what was going on with her family, her friend. But he'd done nothing of the sort, instead keep all the information from her because he thought that this was... acceptable?

"What's wrong, Victoria?" Jake asked softly, but Victoria was not going to be cowed by his efforts to make her calm down in that moment. She didn't want to be calm. She didn't have to be calm!

"What's wrong? You're joking right, Jake?" A laugh escaped her, and Victoria was surprised even with herself as she opened the car door as her driver slowed down at the kerb to allow her to get in. "You've known since the summer that Azalea wasn't dead, and you didn't think I would want to know? How can you pick the phone up each week, text me, call me, email me and not think to mention that one of my friends -- one of my closest friends -- from school was actually alive? What is wrong with you, Jake?"

"I didn't think you'd want to kn-"

"Why? Because you don't want to know? Because you get to decide what I can and cannot do with my life, who I can and cannot see? Jake, I'm not five anymore, I know my own mind, I know what I can and cannot handle. I made a mistake all those years ago, allowing you to tell me not to look out for Azalea, to let her go, leave her be. But you were wrong, Jake, you were very wrong!"

"I planned to tell you when you came home for Christmas."

"Only because you would have had to, Jake. Azalea's been staying with you the last two months. She's been spending time with my niece and nephew. She's been staying in your home!" Victoria replied hotly. "She was my friend, Jake. My friend. She wasn't just your girlfriend, you don't get to control who knows about her being back. You don't get to tell me I can't know. If you're still mad at me for not coming home for Christmas, that's fine, but you knew for months before, and you didn't once mention it, Jake. What did mom say when you said not to tell me?"

"Mom doesn't... Mom doesn't think it's good-"

"Are you serious? Mom is not like that, Jake! Mom loved Azalea! Dad loved Azalea. You loved Azalea. And yet you can't see that you're keeping her from people who cared about her. You're keeping her... Merlin's beard, Jake, what are you even doing? You shouldn't be doing this on your own!" Victoria insisted, shaking her head. The driver's eyes kept lingering upon her, but Victoria's eyes were looking out of the window, seeing without seeing as the driver circled around the block, not knowing where Victoria would like to go, but deciding against sitting parked at the side of the road.

"I'm not, mom is here. The kids love Azalea."

"But you couldn't tell me?"

"You weren't here."

"Oh, yes, that makes it okay, doesn't it, Jake? That makes it all okay. You're unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I thought we shared everything, Jake? I thought our bond meant we could tell each other everything, no matter how hard it might be for the other. But you've shut me in the dark, Jake. You've hurt me, but you've also hurt Azalea in the process. She deserves to have all of her friends around her, and you've deprived her of not just me, but Jackson, too. I hope you're happy, Jake, because this was one of the most foolish things you've done. Foolish, and disappointing."

Victoria had jammed the phone off in that moment, not wanting to hear more from Jake. Not wanting to hear more from his mouth that would sound more and more like lies. He'd done something almost unthinkable in the last nine months. He'd lied about the welfare of her friend. Azalea was alive... If she'd of known that Azalea was with Jake, there was no way she would have stayed in America for the holidays if she'd known Azalea was with Jake. She would have been home to support not only Jake, but her friend.

Because at the end of the day, Azalea had been one of the closest of friends Victoria had had. After Humphrey, the older witch had been like a sister.

And I let her down.

"I suggest you keep your eyes on the road." Victoria snapped at the driver. "Unless you would like a law suit directly from the Milwaukee Senator's Office? Drive me back to the airport, I have a plane to catch." She'd finalised, turning her phone on silent and shoving it in to her bag so that she couldn't see if Jake tried to call her back.

***

Arriving back in Milwaukee had been something Victoria had done on the quiet. She had not returned to the offices of Jackson Blake -- despite only hailing an Uber at seven pm -- nor had she turned up for work the next day. She'd sent a text to Jackson denoting that she was working on something -- she could hardly turn up empty handed, could she? -- and would be back in to the office as soon as possible. For all Jackson might think, the witch was still in Carmel, trying to win over the Harringtons, and it was taking longer than necessary. She hadn't told him otherwise, and the quietness of her apartment gave her more chance to think, rather than having people to-ing and fro-ing from her office every two minutes.

The time alone was spent denoting the possible candidates to try to win over to Jackson's ideas, his policies, but it was difficult to find people who weren't already backing another person in office and one who favoured Jackson's party, his politics, and someone who didn't mind backing a youngster. The options were growing fewer in the time period, and the question of a week was growing shorter.

The time alone was also not helping Victoria's anger, either.

She'd thought venting to Jake would have been enough. It hadn't been. She was still mad at him. Victoria had refused calls from all of her family, not trusting her mom to not ambush her, or her father to pass the phone to Jake. She'd simply replied with a 'work is super busy, can't talk right now, I will call you when I can' text to buy herself time.

What was eating at the witch the most, though, was that she would have to tell Jackson. That she hadn't already told Jackson. Two things. First, that Azalea was still alive. That the funeral he had attended in her name had not been necessary. That Azalea had been found months ago. The second, that she hadn't secured the funding from Mr Harrington because she had completely lost sight of the goal of her travel to Carmel, and had wasted the opportunity she had.

And that the only few people left were people who either ran corporations they didn't wholly agree with, or people who were highly likely to turn them down.

It had, therefore, been with a heavy heart that Victoria had slid in to the backseat of the Uber car that evening. Silence had enveloped the passenger and the driver past pleasantries, and Victoria's eyes had drifted off in to the distance again. She'd been doing so well, for months, Jackson had been able to rely on her, and here she was, about to tell him that they couldn't do very much at all about conceding to the NRA's wishes.

The car had pulled off as Victoria stood looking at the Palace that was Jackson's home, her arms folded across her stomach as she looked up to the building with trepidation. It was nine pm. Much later than she would have liked to call upon the man who employed her. But, he deserved as much time as she could muster to find a solution to the problem at hand.

The light click of her heels filled the drive way as Victoria moved up to the house, not daring to pull her keys from her bag and let herself in. Not today. Instead, Victoria pressed the doorbell, listening to the chime through the house, trying to keep her mind from the point she had failed. The thought that was making her shake very softly, almost as if the February chill had gotten in to her skin. Eyes downcast, Victoria waited for Jackson to come to the door.

Waited...

The door opened, light filled the porch, giving a slight hint of warmth from within. Victoria didn't look up, though.

"I'm sorry, Jackson..." The witch managed only to address the man's feet. He would understand from those three words. He'd understand everything, wouldn't he..?

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When Superheroes Lose Their Capes (Jackson) Sidharth-Malhotra

When the Princess hadn't shown up to work Monday morning, Jackson wasn't overly surprised. She had been planning to make a trip to Carmel and knowing her, she did things sooner rather than later. the kid didn't have a procrastinating bone in her body which made her highly annoying as a competitor and massively efficient when she was on his team. Her absence hadn't been too terribly missed until - out of sheer habit - Jackson had meandered over to the tiny office on the other side fo the open plan desk area only to find Lindsey in Victoria's place, making phone calls. The blonde had looked up surprised when Jackson had entered (without knocking, as usual) and had to be reassured that no, he wasn't looking for something in particular. His wandering eyes had still swept the corner where the mini cool box usually sat containing both his and Victoria's lunch but the corner had sadly remained empty.

The rest of the day had been spent day dreaming about a steak dinner that wouldn't be as nice as the one the Goblin made but would suffice anyway. Prepackaged steak for two was not bad, not really. or so Jackson told himself when he microwaved some that evening, wondering how how legal representation was getting along. Once again, the politician was not really worried. In fact, he was rather sure that Victoria would return from California with a big cheque in her purse. Though the wizard didn't know how, his lawyer always, always managed to get the job done. So their funds were pretty much secured.

Tuesday morning, the Goblin was absent once again which only meant things must be going well. Though he found himself annoyed that Victoria hadn't even bothered to text. She could at last let him know how much Kit Harrington intended on giving and if it would be all at once or conditional. That was just professional, and usually the witch in question was nothing if not professional. The rest of the day as spent snapping a an intern who didn't understand that he took his coffee black. Jesus where was Victoria, she knew how to handle these things. Connie had finalized work for several charities they would be incorporating into their speeches and rounds come May and Maude had shortlisted a few local candidates seeking the senatorial support Jackson had to offer. Two of them looked promising because they came from good money and one looked promising because she actually had good ideas. In the end, Jackson would likely only have time to endorse the two wealthy ones.

It was just as well, the girl with good ideas would lose, and it had nothing to do with her. She was running in just about the reddest redneck district possible. If there weren't already photoshopped campaign posters of her boobs enhanced in her area, there would be by election time.

When the Goblin wasn't t work the third day in a row, Jackson began to grow slightly concerned. He'd seen Victoria work through Christmas and New Year, through weekend and public holidays, hell he'd seen her work through the Superbowl - which had been creepy as fuck and he'd been trying to forget it ever since it had happened. She wouldn't miss three days of work if she had Ebola and the Zeka virus all rolled into one. So after sending a quick email to Sasha, he'd shot a text her way.

Hey kiddo, all okay?

Jackson didn't have time to wait for a reply, hurrying into his meeting with Senator Arcazio-Cortez who was looking to switch sides but didn't have the balls to do it on her own. After an interesting two hours between the two policy makers an their publicists, Jackson finally emerged from the meeting and checked his phone.

No reply.

He figured he'd give her one more day to contact him before he actively started looking into what happened. Still, as he was leaving for work, he dropped by Victoria's office once more. Sure enough, Lindsay was manning that station, and this time she even hung up her phone upon seeing him.

"S-sorry sir, I m-mean, how can I help you?"

"I was just wondering if we got a bill for plane tickets from anywhere in Cali," the politician inquired casually, leaning against the door to try and pretend he wasn't really interests, just checking in. His cool attitude must not have been very successfully portrayed because Lindsay went digging almost immediately.

"Yes Sir, we did indeed!" she confirmed. "Monday morning flight, and a return one for the same day. Invoice just came in yesterday, sir. Is... it okay..."

"Yes, its fine, no big deal," Jackson managed before bidding the blonde a good evening and heading for the elevator. Victoria had been back two days and hadn't contacted anyone. It was both puzzling and a little... annoying. If she didn't ant to talk about work, that was fine. Lord knew she was overdue a few days off. But to break contact completely, as if the only reason to talk to him was work...

Climbing into his car, Jackson pushed the vehicle in gear on autopilot, trying to understand why this was bothering him so much. As he turned into traffic, slowing down to accommodate the horde going back home after a hard day's work, he figured it was because of his anxiety about the whole money thing. They had enough for maybe the end of February, mid March if they stretched, before he had to start paying for everything out of his pocket.

Or cave to the NRA.

A horn blared somewhere, jolting him from his thoughts and the road ahead became suddenly clear. In his worries over the whereabouts of his lawyer and the money she may or may not have gotten, Jackson had started on the way to his earlier home, the apartment that now served as the aforementioned lawyer's humble abode. Cursing softly, the man inched towards the next U turn, maintaining a steady stream of swear words at the time wasted. Once he was out of traffic, Jackson sped up, heading for the nearest portal.

It was probably ill advised and actually would utilize a longer route even if in a shorter time, showing up as wear and tear on the car but at that moment, he didn't care. the nearest portal landed him in Madison, and the next in a town further north. A third portal got him back to Michigan but near the lake from which it was a seven minute drive to his estate though the car fuel gauge was on red. He had effectively made a six hour drive in twenty minutes.

He'd refuel tomorrow, the man decided, pulling into his garage and then leaving the car there to stomp into his house only to emerge ten minutes later dressed in his workout clothes. Over the years, Jackson had learned that the best way to regulate his emotions was to get involved in some distracting physical activity and right now, a four mile jog sounded like a wonderful idea. The man returned an hour later, sweating from head to foot and deliciously exhausted from his run. He'd managed to finally take stock of the lake at the back, he'd now have to look into getting a rowboat or motorboat or soemthing. No point wasting living next to a lake.

It was close to nine perhaps, after he'd showered, had a protein shake for dinner because screw cooking and was sitting in the living room scrolling through his netflix options when the doorbell rang. Wondering who could be calling at this time, Jackson approached the door cautiously, ready to fend off a Jehovah's witness if necessary. and opened the door.

Only to find a very familiar Goblin shaking on his doorstep.

"I'm sorry, Jackson..."

It was clear soemthing was very wrong. Her already short stature seem to shrink as she looked down to the ground, not daring to meet his eyes. And despite the warm jacket wrapped around her tiny frame, the witch shook so badly, she may as well have been wearing a tank top and shorts in February.

When Victoria didn't elaborate, Jackson merely opened the door further, indicating that she should come in. The witch seemed unable to move though, simply stuck where she stood. In the end, Jackson stepped out, putting one hand on her shoulder and steering her into the warmth of the house before closing the door once more.

"Hey kiddo," he tried gently, unsure how to approach this version of the Princess. It didn't take a genius to figure out that things in Carmel hand't gone their way but how badly could they have gone for Victoria to be this shaken up? At worst, Kit Harrington would have said no, which was a big blow to the campaign but it could be dealt with.

Victoria Newbury acting this phased, Jackson wasn't sure about though. The witch was about as solid as they came.

"Wanna talk about it?" he proposed, hovering over her awkwardly, as if his presence could somehow ease her into motion, unfreeze her somehow or at least make her look at him.

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When Superheroes Lose Their Capes (Jackson) Rsz_mi10

When Superheroes Lose Their Capes (Jackson) Rsz_ja12

When Superheroes Lose Their Capes (Jackson) Rsz_rs13

Earlier in the week, Jackson's move to steer her with the gentle arm around her frame might have made her freeze up more in that moment. Earlier in the week, though, Victoria had believed the world to be completely different. A world where people you loved, the people you trusted with all your might, did not keep things that were important to you.

Now, though...

The warmth of the hallway of Jackson's home enveloped her small frame but Victoria's body was still shaking. She wasn't cold, merely scared. Terrified, to be more accurate. Terrified of telling Jackson that for once, she didn't have the answer to make their problems go away. That she couldn't draw up a conclusive route forward with any certainty. They were both highly aware of the stakes that were being held with the Harringtons, and the witch had failed to even ask Mr Harrington, Kit, to help them. The trip would be a wasted one in the eyes of the Milwaukee Senator, and he would have every right to get mad at her for her inability to work through a hiccup in the road.

Jackson's much too familiar smell of mint touched her senses, normally so calming made the witch close her eyes. She'd never realised before...

She shook that thought straight from her mind, trying to get herself to move forwards, both literally, and metaphorically. Come on, this is not the end of the world. It's a hiccup. Jackson will understand. The witch chastised herself as somewhere in the not so far off distance Jackson's voice asked if she wished to talk about it.

"T-Tea." Victoria said, the emotion in her voice almost voided in that moment as she gently broke free from Jackson and moved towards the kitchen. "We need t-tea." She explained, a little more conviction in her voice. When had she become so comfortable with the American politician that she could move past him in his own home, towards the kitchen, straight to the kettle, and set about making them tea without first seeking permission from him? Victoria didn't know, but that was a question for another time as her hands worked to keep themselves busy with the tea pot she'd bought the man -- mostly for her visits because you needed properly brewed teas in moments like these.

It bought the witch time, though, which is what Victoria needed in that moment.

Two cups were set out. One filled with a heaped spoonful of coffee, the other with half a spoon of sugar in the bottom, waiting for the team to be stewed. No words were spoken between the two of them in that moment, and Victoria was grateful for it. Instead, Jackson allowed her to finish making the drinks, a good five minutes passed, before Victoria moved to the island in the kitchen, placing Jackson's coffee before him -- black as he liked it.

But even with that much more time, Victoria didn't know how to tell the man before her what had happened down in California two days ago. How did you break this kind of news to someone? Properly, anyway? Rather than being sat in the living room of the family who had found their daughter, very much alive, and thought you already knew about it.

"I went to see Mr Harrington on Monday." Victoria provided Jackson with that much information, though he already knew that. The invoice would have come through -- an invoice she was no doubt going to end up paying for in lieu of apology for her own incompetence in this whole matter. "Both Mr Harrington and his companion, Ms. Kent were in good spirits." No, Victoria chastised herself, now you're giving him false hope. "Not... I...

"They were in good spirits because... because... Azalea's not dead, Jackson..." Victoria managed, glancing up at the man before her to see how he took the news. "They... they found her, after all this time. She's well. Alive..."

Victoria stopped, taking in the strong colour of her tea for a few moments allowing herself just a moment longer.

"I didn't know, how could I know? I should have known. Jake knew. He's known for nine months. Azalea's been living with him for the past two. I don't know why, I didn't get that much information. But he's known all this time, and he didn't think to tell me. Jake kept the information from me -- thought he was doing me a favour in not telling me. Thought I would be less upset this way. Azalea was home for Christmas, with my family! Jake didn't think I should know this. I should have known!" The story was probably not coherent, in truth, it was just tumbling out of Victoria's mouth in an effort to explain to Jackson what was going on. To put up the complete explanation of why she hadn't been in work the last couple of days.

"Mr Harrington and Ms. Kent thought I'd turned up with bad news about Azalea. Of course, I hadn't turned up for such things. The more I heard, though, the less that made sense. Azalea is alive. It's not supposed... everyone thought... I thought... It was so confusing, I didn't know what to do. They thought I knew, I had to pretend..." Victoria shook her head, her voice had wobbled in that moment, but she refused to cry. Not in front of Jackson. He didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else he had to sort out. "I couldn't ask... I... I didn't know how to ask them in that moment for the money. Their daughter was back, they were so happy, they thought I knew, thought I'd embraced Azalea's return with open arms, but I didn't even know... I-I left. I couldn't...

"I'm so sorry, Jackson, I really, really am..."

The witch's hands scrambled to her jacket pocket, pulling out a very tattered piece of paper. Unfolding it, Victoria tried to flatten it out a little bit. This, in itself, was a screaming realisation that the last two days had not been good for the witch. Never, in all the time Victoria had been Stateside with Jackson Blake had she ever presented him with any kind of work that looked this scrappy. Normally it came in a small folder, neatly hole punched or bound for his perusal. This scrap of paper -- so worn despite only being two days old -- showed how much the witch had been worrying over it.

"I've made a list of potential people we could try to get the money from instead, but I have no guarantee that any of them will work. Some might be dubious to our- to your ideals, but if we don't try, we'll never know..." Victoria explained with one more futile attempt to straighten the paper out, before she turned it to Jackson for him to read.

She might not have sealed Mr Harrington's money for them, but Victoria had not been sat idle for the last few days. She had vowed to herself that she would not come back empty handed. Victoria had to give him something, in and amongst this bad news, and this was the best she could do.

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When the midget had first returned to the U.S last year, Jackson could barely tell she was from here. She had a distinct English accent and she certainly didn't act like your average American. In fact, with all her please and thank yous and politeness, she probably couldn't have been picked out from a line of British Thespians. And yet the kid had been making a great effort since joining his team. Her accent was slowly fading, she was now just about an expert on American legal precedent and catching up on the political side as well. Some days, it was easier to imagine her as an American than someone who'd been polluted by the rain soaked oppressors America had won its freedom from over two hundred years ago.

And then there were days like these, when she needed tea.

But at least she was speaking words, with her mouth. So Jackson hung back, allowing the witch to move to the kitchen at her own pace. Even in ehr current state, Victoria had not forgotten his own dislike of tea as demonstrated when she poured a generous amount of coffee grounds in his mug. When both their drinks were done, the young woman carefully carried them over to the kitchen island and set them down.

Even before the conversation began, Jackson had a guess as to what the news regarding their finances would be. The very fact that Victoria was shaking and unable to speak testified to the fact that there was no good news. So the an listened as she explained going to the Harrington. He nodded as she said Kit and his girlfriend were in good spirits.

And then was completely floored by the next bit of information.

"They... they found her, after all this time. She's well. Alive...

If it had been anyone else delivering the news, Jackson would have been immediately suspicious. As it was, his lawyer was probably criminally honest and almost as criminally thorough. She would not pass along a second hand story unless she knew for sure that it was true. the male barely had time to process what Miss Azalea's return meant to him though, before Victoria was speaking once more, revealing the source of her current state.

Her brother, Saint Jake, was the source of ehr current dilemma, a name he had only ever heard Victoria defend until now. There was almost no time to lament on the fact that Miss Azalea had gone once again to the loser who'd left her because right now, the little witch nearing a breakdown in his kitchen was more important. Jackson didn't know why the information was kept from her and right now was not a time to take a dig at her brother, but he could see how much it was upsetting her.

And then it came out. Victoria had walked into a situation she was completely unaware of, and her brothers woeful actions had made her pretend, or lie. In addition to the hurt caused by her family, she was suffering additional guilt from lining to the Harrington, not getting the money she was supposed to and... probably letting a friend down if their conversation from last November had any truth in it.

"Shh, its okay," Jackson cautioned as she began t steer the conversation towards work once more. "All that can wait." Moving to her side, he reached to take one of her still shaking hands, holding it up for her to see. Despite having made the tea, the witch hand't touched her cup, her hands too jittery for holding anything. Carefully, the male began to rub a soothing finger across her knuckles.

"I can't imagine the shock you must have had," he admitted, gently massaging her cold fingers as he spoke, still trying to wrap his mind around Miss Azalea's return. "I mean, its worse than seeing a ghost, ghosts at least you expect." He'd have to get in touch with Kit, try to ask how it had happened, where his daughter had suddenly emerged from.

"I don't know why your brother didn't tell you, but that's a pretty shitty move," he added, unable to resist. At least her hand was getting better under his steady touch. Laying it down, Jackson reached for her other hand, applying the same treatment. "But you should definitely talk to him more about it," he added grudgingly. She was miserable enough without him gas lighting ehr right now.

"And you should reach out to Miss Azalea too, if you two were finds before... Well, i never knew her to turn down a friend. She'll probably be happy to hear from you." Yes, Victoria could reach out, unlike him. She had actually cared about the returned dead girl, unlike him who had just used the connection for money.

"Tell you what, how about we order the biggest bouquet of flowers for the Harrington and have it sent over to their place as a congratulatory gesture? And we give ourselves one day to celebrate the fact that a good person isn't dead. We can worry about everything else after."

Yes, their money problems wouldn't go away so easily, but they could afford one day of not worrying. And having Victoria back to her annoyingly cheery self was much better for everyone in the long run.

"How do you feel about a sleepover, kid? I'll even make breakfast, my waffle game is on point now."

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As Jackson's hands moved to hers, holding them ever so carefully and drawing soothing circles in to her knuckles, Victoria had to marvel at the man's reaction as he told her to hush on the matter of the money they so badly needed. Watching his thumbs move across her knuckles, Victoria couldn't help but notice she couldn't feel his touch, a numbness had elapsed in to her system. How could Jackson be so calm when she was terrified in that moment?

Why wasn't he growing mad with her for failing?

"I don't want to talk to him." Victoria replied automatically, defiantly. She had told Jake exactly what she thought in the moment she'd found out. She didn't want him to try to explain why he thought that it was an acceptable decision to have made for both of them. She was an adult, and she'd been treated like a small child.

When Jackson suggested she reach out to Azalea, though, Victoria gently removed her hands from the man before her. Fear sat in her eyes at the thought. "Azalea... I let her down, how could I... I wouldn't even know where to start... I didn't- I let her down." Victoria told him, firm in this thought. Why would Azalea want her around when she'd not tried to contact her after she'd left all those years ago?

"What if she hates me?" She asked quietly, because that would be the logical point now, wouldn't it?

The idea of sending flowers was one that brought a nod from the witch, though. "Not azaleas, though." She managed, because she knew that Azalea had never liked those flowers, and it would be much too damning of their position if they didn't try to show they had known Azalea well enough to know that.

The final offer from Jackson brought a small, hesitant smile to the witch's lips. The man before her wasn't mad. He wasn't getting angry over the money. For a moment, Victoria considered apologising once more, but instead stood from her seat and wrapped her arms around Jackson's waist and hugged him close.

"I'll fix it, I promise I will fix it. But waffles sound amazing." The witch finalised, feeling a flood of relief filling her system.

Everything was going to be alright.

She would make sure of it.

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A small spark of Victory flashed inside Jackson as the witch stubbornly admitted she didn't want to talk to Jake, but that was just an emotional response he knew. Despite how he felt about the the man, it would probably be better all around if the Newbury siblings resolved whatever it was they were going through. And hen Jackson could go back to loathing the former Quidditch player in peace.

Not tonight though, tonight he could let the Goblin have her way. She would see sense soon enough.

"Don't give yourself too much credit, since when have you known Miss Azalea to hate anyone?" he tried to joke, insinuating that the little witch was nowhere near important enough to make a person change her way of life. The message was clear in his tone though. "Besides, if she's with your brother, it means she's forgiven him, you've a pretty good shot at forgiveness too."

No, the only one beyond redemption in this room was himself, but that was something to reflect upon on another day.

The man laughed when she affirmed that the flowers couldn't be Azaleas. And they would just have to send the bouquet with a generic note since Victoria had already left the Harrington with an impression that she knew. Perhaps just a polite thank you card for all the photographer had done for their campaign?

When he was almost sure he had handled the situation - and not shabbily either - the next surprise came in the form of the small Goblin attacking him. For someone so tiny, she sure moved fast, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shirt. Jackson was treated to a perfect view of the top of ehr head as she rested somewhere against his navel, promising to fix everything.

"Hey, we're not talking about that tonight, or tomorrow," he managed, awkwardly patting her head like he would a child's. Her eight was perfectly on par with a twelve year old. "Tonight we play a classic. Have you ever heard of Fortnite?"

The rest of the evening was dedicated first to video games and then Netflix. In a bout of generosity and grudging contentment at now knowing she was okay, the politician let Victoria pick what they were watching and zoned out about ten minutes in at whatever romantic comedy she'd chosen. They went to bed about an hour later, Victoria making herself home in the guest bedroom as Jackson headed to his own bed, exhausted from the workday as well as the exercise routine.

Leaving his phone unattended in the living room where, tomorrow morning, there would be six missed calls from his girlfriend halfway across the world.

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» Little bit of down time ( Jackson)
» A way of saying thank you (Jackson)
» I'm Sorry (Jackson, Aza NPC)
» Jackson, Cora
» Why is this happening to me ( Jackson)