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 Fill My Little World Right Up (Jackson)

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Victoria Newbury
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PostSubject: Fill My Little World Right Up (Jackson)   Fri Sep 21, 2018 10:32 am

March 2024


After relaxing in Jackson's arms after admitting to her short comings -- even if it was only a brief moment -- Victoria knew that the man was not going to get mad at her. This was good for her, it meant she had a little bit longer to fix the problem she had been supposed to resolve when she went to the Harrington home. They hadn't spoken about the funding for the next day, as Jackson had said, and instead played some retro game that was so repetitive, and... well, Victoria didn't completely understand how Jackson found something so childish to be as stimulating as he did, but it stopped them from thinking about things. Not to mention it was one of the few 'violent' games in the world that didn't actually look violent when you played. Some of the outfits you could unlock were really, really cute!

Much to Jackson's dismay, Victoria had changed the character to the girl with green bunches and pink attire every time it was her turn.

They had sent the flowers, as Jackson had insisted, and though the note was neutral -- because Victoria was supposed to know already -- it denoted that they should all meet up some time and the Harringtons knew where they were should they ever need something. It had helped to alleviate Victoria's stress of having misled Kit and Clara of her knowledge of Azalea, but it hadn't stopped the worry of not having reached out to the witch in question.

After leaving Jackson's house the next evening, Victoria had pulled out a piece of Jackson's headed paper -- a stash she was keeping to write back to Dominique -- and written a lengthy letter to Azalea Harrington. It started with an apology for not having contacted Azalea sooner, though gave no hint that her brother had been the cause of that situation, instead denoting how hectic her work had been in America. From there, the witch had written the most sincere apology for not having been there in 2013 for the older witch when she had needed someone. That had ended with Azalea asking for forgiveness from the older witch, with the hope that now, now she knew better, she could help, in anyway possible. In true Victoria form, though, the witch had not left the letter as a grovelling apology, she had continued on after writing 'If you choose to forgive me, I have a lot of things to share with you...'

The letter had grown in size to explain what had happened to her since 2013, not scrimping on details except for the actual manner in which she'd met Jackson again. The letter had been lengthy, and then finalised with a list of questions about Azalea, a list that was almost as long as her own explanation of what she'd been up to. By the time the letter was finished, five full pages of neat script, the weight in Victoria's shoulders had dispersed. There was still the worry that Azalea might not have forgiven her, but Victoria clung to Jackson's words. If Azalea could forgive Jake, she could forgive her. The younger witch had finished the letter off with her email addresses -- work and personal -- and her phone number, insisting Azalea get in touch as soon as she could.

From there, as they say, the rest was history. Azalea had responded to say she was forgiven, and that she would love to be friends with her again. Victoria had felt relieved when that message had come through and had gone to Jackson almost immediately to him know. He'd had the look that said 'I told you so', but Victoria hadn't cared in that moment. She had her friend back, and they had so, so much to talk about!

But, that had not resolved the cash flow issues within the office.

And as happy as Victoria was to have Azalea back in her life, the older witch was not going to bring in money. Not yet, anyway -- but that was Jackson's manner of thinking, Victoria couldn't fathom trying to ask for money from that family now. So other avenues had to be explored whilst they pinched every penny they could without making it obvious to people on the outside that they were having a momentary slump.

Finding the right candidate to give you that kind of cash, though, was proving difficult for the Jackson Blake team, they'd had a couple of nos, a few dubious maybes but no yeses. Victoria was not deterred, though, and kept powering through. It had been her incompetence that had broken their source of funding, so she would have to find a solution.

Just because they had to find funding, though, it didn't mean that they could slack off in the other areas of their work. Jackson Blake and his team had to have a presence within the community, they had to have a cause, or a number of causes if they could juggle them. Victoria had been making the usual rounds on such things when she'd happened upon the local community centre. A check in with Janene in the centre had proved fruitful, some of the funding that had been raised via a charity collection at the end of the previous month had been helping leaps and bounds in their projects, and the older woman was more than happy to show her how. After going through the rooms in the centre which now boasted new equipment, games, coffee machines, etc, for the children, adult groups and elderly resident get togethers looked amazing in the hall, and Victoria was proud to see that they had made a difference.

Even if it was only small.

It was as Janene was collecting her things that Victoria noticed the meeting going on in the hall. The voice of the speaker coming through the door was almost talking directly to her.

"You have to remember in all of this, the one key point, it is not your fault that these things have happened to you. You're not to blame, not now, not ever."

Victoria had excused herself from Janene in that moment and moved closer to the door, listening to the woman inside the hall talking with such confidence on the topic that had been chewing inside Victoria's mind for some time now. The night she had become reacquainted by Jackson was still there in the back of her mind, the tiny, tiny snippets of consciousness revealed very little, and Jackson hadn't offered anything more. The marks, she remembered the marks upon her body well, but not the ordeal...

"Would you like to join us, Miss..?"

"Oh... um... I..."

"It's okay, nothing in here gets shared to third parties without your permission. This is a safe place."

Victoria hesitated for a moment, but the warm smile upon the woman's lips, the knowing look that said it was okay to be scared, but that nobody would judge her made Victoria step forwards and take a seat within the circle.

For over a month now, Victoria had been attending the meetings with the other members of the support group. The people around her had been warm and welcoming, and talking about the situation had alleviated a lot of the stress from Victoria's mind. When she'd admitted to feeling... less of victim because she hadn't remembered any of it, the others had been quick to soothe her worries of being here. It didn't matter how much you remembered, the fact that you had been put through something you hadn't consented to made you just as much of a victim as the others. Victoria couldn't say she felt comfortable even knowing this. Other people in the group had much, much worse experiences than here, but Amanda, the group leader, had pulled her aside to reiterate that there was no sense in shying away from the group.

The group had helped, and Victoria had made a number of friends from it, friends she now met up with regularly for coffee after work, or dinner. They had a group chat on WhatsApp and all manner of conversations took place. The group, and the community centre had been noted as Victoria's key charity at work, and everything she could do to help, she would.

It had been in these meetings that Victoria had met Zoe. Zoe was a sweet girl, a few years older than Victoria. Her family had moved from Jamaica when she was very young and settled in Milwaukee -- a fact they both admitted was silly to give up the beautiful island to come to this mundane city. Zoe had been at university when she'd been assaulted, almost eight years ago now, but it haunted her like it was yesterday. Not that anyone would know if they didn't go to their group, Zoe was a happy woman otherwise. She functioned in society. Had a respectable job within the fire service of the city which meant she managed a small team of fire men. She was beautiful, in so many ways. But occassionally she slipped up, she felt anxious in crowds, or doing the weekly shop became too overwhelming.

Victoria had skipped out of work twice to go to help Zoe from such situations, taking her lunch break early, or simply promising to work later than she normally did to make up for it.

They had become very close friends in a short period of time, and Victoria couldn't help but feel like she'd made a friend for life in Zoe. Zoe had often played that down, telling Victoria that they were only friends so that Zoe could help her get things down off the top shelves in places. It always made the two of them laugh, of course, it wasn't meant at all. Zoe had always pulled her in to a cuddle after saying such things, showing Victoria that despite her words, she hadn't meant it at all. It was a nice friendship. Easy going. Natural.

More frequently the two would be found spending evenings together, watching films, cooking together, going dancing -- that had been Zoe's idea, because Victoria needed to get back on the horse. Zoe had been right. They had complemented one another perfectly over the last month or so, and Victoria couldn't be more grateful. Friends were always needed, and Victoria hadn't quite realised how lonely she'd been before now, having only Jackson to turn to in America.

Of course, with each moment that Zoe made Victoria feel more relaxed in the outside world, work became increasingly more stressful.

The funding.

Victoria was not getting anywhere with any of the people they had selected, most of them wouldn't even take her calls. Jackson's campaign purse was all but dry, and the only option they had left. The only place they could turn to now...

Victoria refused to take money from the NRA.

But their choices were running out.

They needed funds.

Now.

Victoria had been in early that morning -- as per usual -- late in March when the phone had rung on her desk. A direct call. Frowning slightly at who might be calling straight to her at this hour, Victoria had pulled her notepad to her and lifted the phone.

"Good morning, Senator Blake's offices. Victoria speaking, how may I help you?" The witch answered, her voice clear, confident and ready to deal with whatever might come her way.

"Miss Newbury, may I call you Victoria?"

"You may." Victoria replied brightly, trying to place the voice on the other end of the phone but coming up short.

"Wyatt Jameson, I'm calling to discuss a matter of importance. For both of us." The man explained, and from there he jumped in to a full explanation of what he wanted. Victoria had made precise notes of everything the man had said, being very careful not to agree or deny anything that was being said before she had a chance to discuss it with Jackson. After all, it was his campaign. The phone call extended well past the half an hour mark, pushing on towards the hour, by which time the offices were starting to fill up. Victoria's friendly manner didn't fade throughout the conversation, her bubbly persona shining throughout because she had to keep this man on side.

"I hope you give this careful consideration, Victoria, it will be great working with you."

"Of course we'll consider it, Mr Jameson, your offer is more than generous, I'm sure Jackson will be glad to hear from you. I'll get him to return your call today with his answer."

"I'd prefer to hear from you..."

"Truthfully, Mr Jameson, you probably will!" Victoria replied with a soft laugh, completely oblivious to the man's flirting because she was not, in any shape or form, interested in the man. A small smile touched her lips as she thought of the person who did before she called off with another reminder to call the man 'Wyatt'. With a small sigh once the receiver was placed back in its nest, Victoria looked down at her notes. The money and the terms with which the money would come sat before her.

At that moment the raven hair wizard Victoria needed had entered the office, heading straight to his office overlooking the city. Raising from her seat and straightening out her dress, Victoria picked up her notebook and hurried across the office, almost following Jackson in to the office.

"Good morning, Jackson!" Victoria said happily, closing the door behind her even as Jackson was still getting himself sorted. The tone was much, much chirpier today than it had been for weeks, the smile upon the witch's lips much more radiant. "I have, what I believe to be, great news! We have an offer for funding, just came through. There are some conditions upon the money, but nothing we can't negotiate or live with, I think. It's more than we were looking for, so I think that's even better, and we don't have to get in to bed -- as you like to put it -- with the NRA." Victoria explained, moving across to Jackson's desk and putting the notebook down before him to read himself.

The terms that Mr Jameson had denoted, the amount, pretty much everything he'd offered sat on the piece of paper, and Victoria looked to Jackson hopefully. "Mr Jameson would like me to call him back with our answer as soon as possible, but I don't want to rush and look too desperate, even if we are, and I want to get a contract written up for this one, seeing as he wishes to put conditions on the money, unlike Mr Harrington did.

"Is there anything there you want me to go in to more detail on?" The witch asked, trying not to look too happy with herself.

But she couldn't help it.

They might just have solved the funding problem!

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PostSubject: Re: Fill My Little World Right Up (Jackson)   Sun Sep 30, 2018 3:04 pm

As magnanimous as Jackson had been in declaring that they not think about the current financial crisis looming upon his camp for a few days, he was slowly realizing how much was exactly at stake. As February turned into March and March into April, only one of two thoughts dominated the politician's mind, and the more urgent one was about their fiscal conditions. Once the salaries had gone out for March, Jackson knew they would have little choice in meeting the same goal next month unless a miracle happened. And miracles didn't happen in the political landscape of carefully calculated opportunity. For a brief moment, the man considered abandoning his own home, or taking out a loan against the property but decided against it. Not only would that be giving up but if the knowledge became public, it would do more damage in the long run.

No, they needed a big, fat donor, and they needed one soon.

The only one who understood how badly they needed money was the kid, who also grew more frantic as the weeks passed. The only other people to whom Jackson had confided were Merida (who listened and understood but suggested he simply be truthful with the staff and hold off their salaries for a bit) and Sasha (who's ready reply was the same as always, that she didn't understand anything abut politics). In their own way, both his mother and his fiance could not comprehend the situation he was in and had it not been for Victoria, he would be shouldering the burden all on his own.

But he wasn't alone, as daily reports found their way to his desks detailing his legal adviser's unrelenting efforts to pursue donors of the non lobbyist variety. Jackson had been scheduled to appear on FOX News thrice in two weeks in hopes of more public exposure resulting in financial support. They had to use all their tools to their advantage and as his staff kept repeatedly pointing out, he was the second best looking politician in the country. Had Jackson been female, using his looks to further his agenda would have been demanded so why should he not do it as a man? Those democrats were the ones who always touted equality, well now Jackson Blake was close to stripping down, oiling up and going to town on a pole on live television if it meant another donation like Kit Harrington's.

His flowers to the Harrington Household had been reciprocated with a polite thank you by Kit's girlfriend and nothing else. Whether Kit had simply ignored him or not even seen the gesture was anyone's guess but the message was clear, Jackson couldn't expect anything from California anymore. As a last resort, the young politician had even put out feelers towards his friend and supporter Damien Greene but Damien had been unreachable - flown off to fuck knows where. It seemed one by one, all options were drying up.

The stress from work was having adverse effects on his personal life, first manifested through the urge to drink and then in the vigorous amounts of workouts he bagged in after seven in the evening. Jackson had even managed to invest in a row boat which only served one purpose. to take him out a few miles into the lake and then stay there as Jackson swam back. Any attempts to retrieve the boat would require another three mile swim in the steadily warming waters of Lake Michigan, keeping him busy and distracted enough to not want to contemplate how easy it would be to get his hands on some form of alcohol... How a tiny relapse couldn't hurt... It would only be one drink...

All the physical exertion usually concluded in a deep but restless sleep, making Jackson wake up still tired. His muscles ached from the constant strain of heavy exercise punctuated by hours of idly sitting in his office as his brain once again pondered over the current problem. That particular morning, after his alarm had gone off, Jackson had been so exhausted he'd hit "off" instead of "snooze" and slept in a whole hour extra. Waking up at eight, the man had jolted out of bed in a panic, trying to find the first ironed shirt and pants his sleepy mind could manage to locate. Gulping down a large cup of steaming black coffee in lieu of breakfast, Jackson had hurried to his car with his top two buttons undone, shirt sleeves rolled up and tie in his hands.

To his credit, he was only twenty minutes late, but something must have happened because the moment he entered his office, Victoria followed in, her tone more chirpy than he could stand just this second. "Yes, I know I'm late-" he began only to stop as the princess started talking too. Two minutes in, the reason for her chirpiness became evident.

"What?" the man asked, tie still in hand and collar button all but forgotten. "Someone wants to give us money?" His tone of disbelief reverberated off the walls of his thankfully sound proof office. When the witch confirmed that that indeed it was the case, Jackson's expressed turned to one of pure joy. Acting on instinct, he ignored the notebook she had carefully set on the table and moved to the witch, picking her effortlessly up off the ground and spinning her around for a brief few seconds before putting her down again.

"Someone wants to give us more money than we asked for?" The magical words poured like honey to his ears, the man savoring each syllable as it reverberated off the walls. Conditions hardly mattered, hell at this point the donor hardly mattered. He would accept money from a Clinton at this point if it meant keeping his offices running and free of the NRA's influence.

"Who did you say the guy was again? Because we need to go shake his hand big time."

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PostSubject: Re: Fill My Little World Right Up (Jackson)   Sun Sep 30, 2018 3:26 pm

Professionalism had been on the forefront of the agenda in this meeting, Victoria was holding the files with everything they need to go over whilst suppressing her wish to just spontaneously blow up in a ball of excitement and bounce around the whole office explaining how they had done it to anyone and everyone who would listen.

Unfortunately for the witch, Jackson had not received such a memo.

As Jackson's arms enveloped her, and picked her up with such ease it brought a soft gasp from her lips at the unexpected reaction, the smaller witch's hands held on to Jackson's shirt in the brief moment of his personal joy. The smile on her lips grew seeing her boss in such good spirits that morning, but she refused to get too heady with this whole process. That would be dangerous, and it would rest upon her shoulders to keep Jackson from forgetting that they had to check everything over before they simply agreed to it all as if it didn't matter.

And she most certainly, certainly, definitely would not take note of how muscular the man's body had felt against her own in that brief moment.

Righting herself in the moment Jackson put her down, Victoria shook her head with a small laugh. "Please don't do that ever again, Mr Blake!" The witch admonished, though the whole effect was quite lost because she didn't really mean it. After so many months of seeing Jackson worrying over the whole funding of their campaign -- his campaign -- it was good to see the light back in his eyes, the happiness pushing the tightness of his shoulders away once more.

"Someone wants to give us money." Victoria reiterated so that Jackson could, once more, feel the flood of relief wash through his body like it had hers not ten minutes ago when she'd heard the words from Mr Jameson's mouth. "And, more than we would have been asking for had we gone to him directly with a proposal, so yes. We're going to be secure for longer than we anticipated, but we really do need to go over the specifics and I need you to sign off on it as soon as possible so that I can go back to him to agree the terms."

Of course, Jackson already knew this, Victoria was thorough, and the paperwork would have to be in place. This was always the case, and it would always be the case if she was working here. Tedious as Jackson might find it, Victoria was making sure they weren't going to be bitten in the rear several months down the line.

"Wyatt Jameson," Victoria supplied once more for Jackson's knowledge. "I need to research him a little more, in truth, I was just too excited to bring the news to you, so I didn't wait. He mentioned you knew one another, though? I'm sure I've seen him at functions before, but I can't place his face..." The witch admitted. The name was familiar, but it was eluding her in that moment as to where it belonged. Jackson would probably know, though, it sounded like the two men had something in common from the way Mr Jameson had been talking on the phone.

"But, we've done it, Jackson! We have the money we need!" The witch finalised once more, because it was going to take some time for that to sink in.

They were safe. And they would be safe for some time.

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PostSubject: Re: Fill My Little World Right Up (Jackson)   Sun Sep 30, 2018 4:05 pm

Her admonishment of professional courtesy was lost on Jackson as he moved towards his desk where the details of their benefactors demands rested. She might be too professional sometimes but Victoria was right, they had to go through the deal and wait to celebrate. But if everything really did go through as planned, the whole office would be treated to cake from the best bakery in town.

"Jameson, sounds familiar," the wizard murmured, not moving to his own chair but leaning over the notebook and fells where they lay on the wooden surface. "Maybe someone who worked with Michael." His old mentor had been absent from the headlines lately which only meant Congressmen Bloomberg was planning something big, Jackson was almost certain of it. This could be Michael's way of helping the Blake camp without being obvious about it.

"Let's see, initial five million given in two parts over three months, that sounds decent," Jackson read of the lawyer's neat script, not stopping to note how accurately the information had been taken down, even the original wording of their donor had been preserved. "That ought to last us what... five months at least, six if we go careful. And the potential for another five million if we meet all the conditions." Turning a page, Jackson went over the conditions listed.

The endorsements seemed standard, the clause about attending mandatory fundraising and personal events was also not out of the blue. Jackson would basically be this man's dancing monkey for a little while but that was a small price to pay. Flicking through the rest of the pages, the politician frowned slightly. "He doesn't want support in the senate?" Usually, that was the firs thing donations came with, a vote on the senate floor for whatever bill the donor was championing. "Could you please check if he's one of ours. I'm pretty sure Michael doesn't make contacts outside the GOP but it can't hrut to confirm," Jackson continued, issuing instructions to Victoria absently because he knew she would be listening no mater what tone of voice he used.

"He also wants us to support an independent for a small race in a swing state, seems okay..." The more Jackson rad, the more it became obvious that this money was coming with the easiest set of conditions ever. Perhaps he'd been wrong, perhaps miracle still had a place in the world of politics today.

"Other than the few things I mentioned, I see no reason we should wait to sign off on this. Maybe you can rush this and do your research today and we call him first thing tomorrow?" It wouldn't do to seem too desperate now, especially when they had a willing donor. "What do you think, Victoria?"

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PostSubject: Re: Fill My Little World Right Up (Jackson)   Sun Sep 30, 2018 4:21 pm

The comment referring to Michael Bloomberg -- a man Victoria knew mostly through Jackson's tales -- made the witch nod to show she was listening. "I'll double check for our records so that we know when we speak to him next." Victoria replied, though Jackson would know already that the next time they would be talking of Mr Jameson it would be with a fountain of knowledge that time had not yet afforded Victoria. It was a good way of keeping in control of their situation, knowing who they were jumping in to bed with.

As Jackson read through, Victoria chipped in only with agreements to what he was saying out loud, making sure that the details he read were going in correctly and not being misinterpreted from the notes before him. Not that he was, of course, but excitement had the power to make the facts get blurred if you weren't careful.

"There was no mention of the Senate whilst we were talking, no." Victoria confirmed. "Nothing at all. Which is why I found the offer a little odd. It's..." But Victoria let the thought die away, instead watching the man before her as he combed through the rest of the conditions. The small mention of checking the side Mr Jameson played for was a given, but Victoria simply agreed to Jackson's words once more, her eyes still watching him carefully. The list made Jackson something of toy for the man, going to events, publicity at fundraisers, and whilst it was nothing untoward, it all seemed a little too easy for them to pick up ten million.

There was a small amount of suspicion rising in the witch, but the money was needed.

And fundraisers were much easier to swallow than going in to business with the NRA for her.

"So long as the research comes back with nothing untoward, I don't see as there will be a problem with all of this." Victoria replied. "So long as you're happy, I can draw up the papers for you, and we can call Mr Jameson in the morning. It'll be a good thing, actually." Victoria explained, moving forward to pick up her papers so that she could take them back to her office to type up properly for their files. "Sasha will be able to go with you to these events, the world can see how beautiful a couple you are, you'll be able to get some donations from that, I suspect, too!

"Leave it with me, we'll be back in full swing by the end of the week, and... you can relax a little now. Leave the treadmill alone." The witch teased lightly before leaving Jackson's office, feeling giddy with anticipation as she moved off to get the papers in order.

Order was finally being restored in their office, for that, Victoria would be eternally grateful!

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