Question Everything

PRECISION AND CAUTION ENSNARE HER attention; her current task requires the utmost care and she cannot let distraction affect her ongoing rhythm. Fingers firmly grip the handle of the chef’s knife as she expertly dices bell peppers and onions. Their scent wafts upwards and as soon as she inhales, her mouth waters in response. Humming to herself, she lifts the cutting board and shifts the colorful medley into the pan with simmering butter. 

Tending to her sauce, Helena sashays about the kitchen and reaches for her nearly forgotten glass of wine. She sips at the cabernet, eyeing the pasta on the other burner. As she sets down her glass, a knock sounds from her front door and interrupts her cooking.

Hel walks over to the door and unlocks it, revealing her guest. A smirk lifts a corner of her red lips; placing her right hand along the door frame, its twin settles on her hip. ❝ You’re a little late, aren’t you? ❞ She steps aside and invites @hubcityquestion​​ in. 

After a hearty dinner of homemade ziti and another bottle of wine, the pair occupy the loveseat in Hel’s living room. Their thighs touch. The warmth radiating from him feels delicious—or was that the wine? Hel gives herself an internal shake. Tonight was simply dinner with a friend… Fingers skim along her forearms as she struggles against the alcohol blurring the edges of her vision. We are ancient history…

His arm settles on the back of the couch, behind her neck; within the span of the next few seconds, the pads of his pointer and middle finger glide along her shoulder. Helena jolts at the contact, but doesn’t move away. That pleasant heat from before surges forward, filling her nearly to the brim.

Sapphire gaze shifts from her lap to the man at her side. Her lower lip disappears between her teeth—mildly bruising beneath her teeth as she worries the tender flesh. A split-second decision is made. Grabbing for the collar of his shirt, Helena drags herself into his lap and crushes her lips against his. She straddles him, cradling his cheeks as she attempts to deepen the kiss; her tongue glides along the seam of his lips.

They part for breath. Foreheads touch and she strokes his face. A small, almost shy, smile graces her lips. ❝ You know, Vic… I know the last time we were together, things didn’t end on the best note… ❞ Licking at her lips, the normally forthright and confident Sicilian is hesitant and bashful. ❝ I…I was hurt by what you said, but I think… ❞  

As if unable to stop himself, his next words interrupt her buzz and rid herself of any warmth, and end any budding thoughts of broaching the subject of them.

You should have hit me.

This was a mistake. Desire flees her as if doused by a bucket of ice water. Extricating herself from him, Helena brushes at her clothes and attempts to straighten her shirt. 

Sensing him rising behind her, she retreats from his reaching hands. He appears apologetic…regretful. However, she can’t help but think she glimpses pity in his gaze. Bitterness swirls about her, prompting her to lift her hands and push him away. ❝ This was a mistake. ❞

A HORN HONKS AND TIRES SCREECH...as he runs a red light on his way to her. One hand on the wheel, the other dusting off dirt and dust. Chasing one lead to another led to him trapped in a run down basement in a house forgotten by time on the far outskirts of the city. He had planned it out perfectly at first, a little field work and then be ready for dinner just in the nick of time to be four minutes late at least. But he just couldn’t fight the urge to dig deeper once he picked up the trail, and all he had to show for it was some old papers and a pair of gloves ruined when he broke his way out of that basement.

He starts applying the brakes and pulls in nice and calmly when he arrives at her place. He grabs his aerosol can from his pocket and sprays his face to take off the mask, stowing it away as he gets out the car and removes his overcoat, figuring his dark blue suit was in better shape than the coat was. Another once over and grabbing what looked like a nice flower from a neighbor’s garden, he knocks on her door and when she answers and he sees that smirk, he can’t help but smile just a bit himself.

“Fought tooth and nail to get out of the office, high tailed it once I was free from those shackles of theirs.”

After the most filling dinner he’s had in weeks, even treating himself to some wine, and being with Helena again like this, he himself--has flashes back to what they had, thinking all the way back to even their honeymoon phase, as people like to say about those early moments of a passionate relationship. As things play out the way they do, all he can think is how deep down he missed her, how even a man as shut off and focused as he can be, will always find himself yearning for the one person who he ever truly connected with, showed who he was for, the only person who saw him at his lowest, even if it was all just ancient history now...

And when their lips meet again for the first time in years, he finds himself flashing back to the night they shared in Quebec. His hands rest against her waist as the kiss deepens, and when they part he remembers this isn’t Quebec and things aren’t like they were then, but he likes this feeling of their foreheads together, like they are becoming one. “No, no they didn’t. Still remember clearly some of what was said, it’s good for reflection when the feeling arises.” Like during a stakeout on a cold night and wondering what could’ve been if he hadn’t said what he said. “Helena, I...” She gets up before he can continue, he stands up himself and tries to approach before being pushed away by her. He stands still for a moment, glancing around the living room and pointing over to the coffee maker.

@hubcityquestion​ <3′d for a small thing!

“What are you doing in Gotham?” Damian asks the man, cornering him. Or well, sort of. It was hard to successfully corner someone at Damian’s height, but that didn’t stop the child from trying.

“Because if you have no business here I’d prefer you leave.”

Here I was hoping he kept the kid confined to the cave at these hours.

“Work. Important work. Something big. More than you can fathom.” He stares at him from behind his featureless mask and rolls his eyes at his attempt to corner him. Sure, he shouldn’t necessarily underestimate a kid with training that might could measure up to Lady Shiva of all people, but still, he had to keep moving.

@hubcityquestion

Dani was sitting on the couch in her parents’ living room and spending some quality time with The Challenge on MTV. She had often wanted to appear on a show like that, but Luke and Jessica would have none of it. “You’re not meant for that kind of life,” her father had told her not that long ago. “You’re meant to help people. Not kill yourself.” 

The contestants were just about to start their votes for elimination when Dani heard a loud insistent knock on her door.

“All right. All right,” she said as she turned the TV off, rose from the couch, and walked towards it. “I’m coming.” 

She peeped through the peephole and noticed a man wearing an old fashioned suit and hat. “Hate to disappoint you,” she said once she opened the door. “But my mom and dad aren’t here.” 

As Question scoped out the residence of Jessica Jones, he found himself personally feeling a pang of nostalgia for this neighborhood, he recalled as a young orphan he dreamt of one day being adopted and moving into a place like this, really become a part of a community. Shaking his head, he pushed all of that off into the deepest part of his vault of his memories, ashamed of himself for even recalling such ancient dreams now. 

Work to be done. 

Normally he’d come in quiet through a window, but given this was the home of an ally, Question did the courtesy of a safety knock, just to make sure no one was home, and the last thing he expected was to be greeted by a...teenager? He hesitated upon seeing her, before quickly moving his hands to adjust the collar of his coat, trying his best to hide his lack of face from her, to the point he was even reaching to pull the brim of his hat down. 

Jessica had never met the stranger before, but there was something that was oddly familiar. She didn’t know whether it was the trench coat or the old fashioned hat, but she remembered someone John had mentioned to her a long time ago. “They call him The Question,” he had said. “He’s an interesting bloke and one of your kind of person.”

She smiled at the stranger now, assuming this is who he was, hung up her jacket on the coat rack, and sat down at her desk. “Assuming that you’re a private detective, I don’t see why I can’t help you out,” she said confidentiality clause be damned.

She pointed to the seat was the near her desk. “So, tell me, what is this intelligence that you are seeking from me?”

“Willing to argue we’re both a bit more than what classifies as a usual PI.”

He continues staring at his finger. He had done some homework into Jessica. He will never admit it but he’s got a workload he was up to his neck in, he couldn’t make the time to do his usual deep dive, needed to move fast to get a handle on a monster looming over Hub City,  and he was able to figure out she had considerable deep rooted connections to New York that he himself could never dig up the handful of times he stopped by to visit. Rubbing his thumb against his finger before moving the hand to his coat pocket, turning to face her. Behind his featureless mask he looked over her, in his mind starting his own little game of assembling the puzzle of Jessica Jones. “Advanced Idea Mechanics. Found rather dangerous arms that seem to belong to them while checking out a nice little hidey hole the Yevgeny Gang made for themselves in my city. At least, one would assume they belonged to Advanced Idea after checking over the broken up crates they left out back.”

@hubcityquestion​ said: “I think something followed you home.” 

     “Tell me somethin’ new, old son. Better question is if I personally caused their death or if it thinks I can help it find peace.”