;boss babe.

Mecca Bar & Lounge, OPEN TO ALL, @vancitystarters​

She’d agreed to take a break–at least one day off for the holiday. Kennedy had resisted popping back into Mecca for at least 4 hours. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her employees…Mecca was her second home. “Hi there! Are you enjoying yourself?” She couldn’t help but ask, the giddiness having never subsided in five years since opening, her customers were her top priority. 

—

“Your staff is weird here, Ken.” Jordan says as she sits up and puts her phone down when she recognizes the female she was waiting for. “I told them that I know someone here and I’m going to have a drink on the house and they began to argue with me.” Her head shook as she looked around for the server in particular who snorted like she was making up the whole thing. “Red head with green shorts. Don’t like her.”

status: open for (0/4) @vancitystarters​​ location: anywhere really

She’d just completed a rather long shift and was on her way home when she’d run into someone. Emma had just been about to tell them to watch out for others and at least apologize when she realized the other person had stuck a note in her hand. That was weird. Not to mention Emma thought note passing only happened in high school and junior high. But here she stood, unraveling a random piece of paper. “’You were right. I was wrong. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow.’ Well that’s not weird at all.” 

She couldn’t help but say the words aloud, honestly still surprised that this had even happened just now. The only people who would give notes as adults–were probably bank robbers as well and given the subject of this note–luckily that wasn’t the case. “Well whoever they’re going to buy lunch for are definitely going to be surprised…hopefully in a good way,” she said to whomever was nearby as she crumbled up the paper once more and tossed it in the garbage bin.

—

Jordan looks over to the other when she spoke, her brow furrowed momentarily. “Were you talking to me?” She asked because she’d heard something about buying lunch but she didn’t recognize the woman right off the bat so if she was talking to her then she didn’t know what it was she was saying. “I’m not going to say no to a free lunch if you’re buying.” She said with a laugh while she turned towards her expectedly. “But I’m going to tell you now that I’m not a cheap date.”

Jordan was on his couch eating his crackers when he came back home. It was the beauty of having taken his house key and gone to the store to duplicate it a few months back. His place was practically her own or it felt like it so she deemed it as such. “Took you long enough,” she tells him as if he was meant to know she was waiting for him. “Gotta talk to you about some things so you may want to grab a chicken leg I brought. It tastes better than it looks. Put your feet up, grab me a beer.”

“How about I navigate and you keep your eyes on anything that looks out of the ordinary?” Elijah wasn’t a stranger to relying on his instincts himself, but in the dark he was glad to take whatever help was thrown his way. “Candy apples are a good start, if they can’t cut it though we’ll have to act like those people who share milkshakes and bite on our chosen half of the apple.” He teased, shaking his head before looking over at other food signs. “There should be something fried, that’s something we can always count on. You think they’ll have pizza?”

—

open starter / location: holy chow (@vancitystarters​) 

“i’m just gonna say sorry now, you’re gonna be waiting for a while ‘cause of me” mattie was picking up lunch for the office she worked at. “my bosses have no idea how doordash works, even though i’ve showed ‘em like fifty times” she carries on, “so they still order food the old fashioned way and then of course, i’ve got to go get it”. 

—

❝ at sully’s tavern, capped ¾ — @vancitystarters​

“I know​ I might be biased—” he absolutely was— “but there’s nothing else around like Matt’s brew.” Say what you wanted about a man like Rafferty Sullivan, but he was nothing if not one hundred percent supportive of his little brother’s endeavors. “You try it yet?”

—

“I know, I wasn’t expecting it either.” Elijah said playfully before offering her a smile. “Am I not supposed to trust you? Come on, give yourself more credit.” He walked with her over to the entrance, wondering just how much he’d have to maneuver to get them out in one piece. “Thirty days? You think we should grab some snacks before heading in?”

—

Dean: Why do you have so many of these slogans ready to go? Are you moonlighting for Durex?

status: closed ( @jordanmitchell​ ) location: some bar in the city!

“I’ve definitely slept with that one,” Jas says, squinting through the crowd to point at a dude who is literally just another man, with the only distinguishing characteristic being an ugly tribal-looking sun tattoo on his bicep, which is showing, seeing as he’s wearing a muscle shirt despite it being mid-November. “He was so mid. Might have slept with that one,” he points to another, this one even less distinguishable, “can’t remember for sure, though. If it is him, he kept trying to cuddle afterwards and I was so not having it.” He throws back his shot and says, “Your turn.”

—

Her eyes follow through the crowd towards the man, nodding her head in understanding because she would have slept with him too. “I can see why. Not for the face but his arms could wrap me up any day.” She looks around and then points towards one of the guys in the corner. “Did not sleep with him but he did pay for my drinks and then had the nerve to slide two hundred dollars on the table to go home with him. I took the cash and walked off.” She looked back around, pointing to another tall male in the corner. “I went home with his friend and then ended up in his bed.” She sighs, shaking her head. “And then, in his other roommate’s bed the next morning.”

…

Jace arches a brow at her words. “Really?” Maybe, it’s his group of people but he feels like he could name off about five people who smoke but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he lets the lighter leave his fingers and into her hands. “You can keep that one, I have an extra one on me.” He confesses. He always has two lighters on him just in case. He reaches into the other pocket, plucking another lighter out. “You can never be too prepared.” He teases. He extends his hand and takes the joint from her, placing it between his lips and inhaling deeply, letting the smoke fill him. He holds onto it for a few seconds before letting it blow out of his nose. “Fuck, that’s a good one.”

—

Jordan guesses that it’s because of her work. Nicotine sticks to clothes and it isn’t pleasant for someone working in the fashion industry but they drink enough that it’s unlikely they can spare enough organs to also be addicted to smoking. “A gift? I’ll remember that.” She probably wouldn’t but she pockets it any way. It’s a matter of time before she loses the one he’s given her but as long as it lasts for this joint that’s all that matters to her. “I know, right? My ex left some in my apartment and it tastes even better knowing he might be losing a bit of cash because of it.” She says without emotion attached even though her heart squeezes at the thought. 

“It’s the fucking kids. They’d all got some nice, processed sugar in their system and it’s turned into a bad installment in the Gremlins franchise,” Rose answers, a full bag of marshmellows in her hands that she’s stolen from one of the tables. If the miniatures wanted to play dirty, she could play dirty too. No stick for her, no smore for them. 

“I’d totally offer to trip one for you but with them running around with sharp objects and all, one of them could probably put and eye out and that’s a level of Disney villain that I’m not quite ready to reach for yet.”

—

“I have only understood the notion of having a kid on a leash when I turned into an adult without a child.” Her kid wouldn’t be on a leash but she felt like everyone else needed to have theirs attached to their wrist so Jordan doesn’t accidentally run them over while they’re standing between her and her next drink. Then a thought comes to mind, she decides that Dean’s kid probably would need a leash but not with her because they’ll probably end up being two peas in a pod. 

“Probably best you keep those feet in. An overworked and stress out mother isn’t someone you want to be on the wrong side of. Then the screams of the kid and the blood. Let’s not make this horror scene any more insane.” She looks around. “But we can celebrate the fact that our loins are empty with a shot or two.”

~

“Wow–that is definitely a reason to celebrate,” she told the other when she confessed to becoming a first time aunt as well. She didn’t really know much about Dean’s extended family–only knowing the people who lived next door to her while growing up. But the idea of the other also being a first time aunt definitely made her feel a sort of kinship with the other woman. “Oh wow…” she mused as she heard the words the other was saying. Wasn’t that pretty much the same as Dean and Kiraz? At least as far as Sanem knew–they were planning on co-parenting, especially since Dean knew that the Sayar sisters would definitely have a few things to say if he left Kira stranded on her own. “Messy…situations all around I guess,” she chuckled before clearing her throat and continuing, “my sister got pregnant by a guy we knew since we were all kids..and it’s a bit of a situation as well for many reasons.” All of which Sanem had to keep to herself for now but the curiosity was killing her. “If you don’t mind my asking–what’s your cousin’s name?”

—

Jordan nods her head. “Not that I’m trying to make it all about me but I mean, it isn’t really something you celebrate because I can’t imagine how frightening it might be. Not only does your life change in an instant but you’re forever bound to this person you weren’t even in a relationship with.” Her head shakes at the idea of Dean going through that and it makes it all bittersweet. She’s happy because it’s going to be a gorgeous baby but it also means a lot of loses for him with the addition of a child. “I know, messy messy. And he comments on my life choices.” Her head shakes before she smiles and nods her head. “Does no one know what condoms and birth control is these days? Here I am always making sure there isn’t an hole in the condom after any hook up.” At the question, Jordan doesn’t even think twice of the question. “Dean Jackson. He’s a local fireman. Blond, this tall, has that dirty look to him but he’s a sweet heart.”

Dean: You are the worst, as always.

Dean: The hell you mean safe? 😂

Jordan: love you too.

Jordan: Be ultra-cool, protect your tool. If you can't shield your rocket, leave it in your pocket. Don't be a joker, wrap your poker.

His mind was still on the vacancies she mentioned in her building and her dumb smile and how it stings a little to be around her but he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else as as they stray away from the fray of people who had gathered at the first. His prized s’more creation was abandoned after another couple of bites from him, though he took the title she bestowed to him to heart, ridiculous as it was. 

The mention of Marley gives him pause, which extended with her next question. In some way, he understands why it might have seemed odd to have stayed in touch when Silas had been gone and Marley had long gone, but he had always enjoyed her presence and she reminded him of simpler times back when it was Silas and Jordan and Dean and Marley. 

( Another life entirely. )

“A few people,” He answers, despite her letting him off the hook for it. Even with the out, he feels the need to clarify, “Not like that. Or like anything. Friendly shit, y’know. Anyone who knew me well enough to write me knew me well enough to know I only cared about one thing.” 

Her, like always. Yet, unlike always, he finds a thought creeping into his mind then that had never been there before – was that a bad thing? Maybe making a place of worship out of a person brought with it an unfair set of expectations that no one could truly live up to. 

He lets that thought be and then he lets it go, wishing it were only as easy to do the same with her. 

The next wasn’t quite so simple. 

“That’s real fucking easy for you to ask, but then tomorrow’s tomorrow and I’m gonna be gutted again because shit’s still the same and nothing’s changed except for a night we acted like it was.” 

Silas wasn’t mad then, not like he had been that night on the roof and in her apartment shortly thereafter, but he was frustrated. He’s no longer leaning with a shoulder against the side of the cabin they were conferring at, he was standing in front of her then, his hands raised so they could frame each side of her face with his thumbs gently resting on her earlobes. 

“I don’t think you got any idea how hard it is to be around you and have to keep making myself remember I can’t be in love with you.” 

( Still, even then, even at that, it wasn’t a no. )

—

Jordan is a mix of contradictions. One moment she wants him to move on and be happy without her because she knows he deserves better, the next moment is her almost going feral at the idea of him being with someone else. A few days ago she was telling him that she understood his need to think and now she was self-inserting herself into his life and night.

It isn’t fair. She knows it isn’t, but she doesn’t expect anyone to understand it outside of him. Nothing makes sense when it comes to the two of them and the pull they feel towards one another. He’s the love of her life and she’ll be damned if she’s gonna make it easy for him to forget that. 

Her eyes roll when he mentions a few people. She hates it. At least until she realizes that he doesn’t mean it like that. Then the pang of guilt comes and she meets his gaze. Rather than admit to the times she sat in front of the prison but never went in, the letters she wrote but never sent, the times she looked at the jail number but never picked up — she takes a sip of her drink. 

He’s heard it.  She’s tired of saying it. 

“The shit is the same because you want it to be that way.” Easier said than done, sure-- but if she knows something about them its that there isn’t a world where they can be away from each other unless a jail cell is keeping them apart. It’ll be easier if he just comes to terms with it. “And I know the pain of the next morning when I wake up and you’re gone. You know it, too.” 

She doesn’t care. It was worth it to her. 

If his steps in her direction isn’t a revelation of that, she doesn’t know what they are. Even when he tries to deny, there seems to be a pull that defies everything. 

Her drink is left forgotten on the edge of the nearby cabin as she steps forward when he reaches for her face. Her hands grasp at his jacket while her gaze softens. The words don’t hurt because they’re bullshit. She knows it with the same confidence that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. 

“Shut the fuck up, Silas.”

Her left hand moves to settle to the side of his neck.

“There isn’t a chance or day that we will ever not be in love with one another. The only thing you have to decide is whether or not you want to keep fighting that and for how long.” 

Her hand lowers to her lips upon his collar bone, dragging her thumb over it. 

No games. No half-truths. “People might be distractions for a little while but then you start to compare. Their hands never feel right on your skin, their mouth doesn’t taste the same, and it’s useless. I’ve tried to wipe myself clean of you but it never worked.” 

“Not permanently, just for the time being.” That was what he intended, at least. Sure, he was shameless when it came to invading her home but he felt a little bad about doing the same to Jasper. Truth be told, he needed his own place, but he hadn’t even started thinking about going about that. “I’m figuring it out.”

( Eventually. ) 

“Penny Lane. I knew that.” They most likely both knew he didn’t, but he would stick to his guns on the matter if he was pressed on it. That’s just who he was, defiant even when there was nothing to rally against. 

Naturally, a booted box hits his shin two seconds later and he can’t help but feel like that’s a summary of what it was like being ever ensnared in her orbit. Words one second, a request the next. He has half a mind to say no just for the sake of saying no to her, but he’s bending down anyway to pick the box up, surveying the sleeves in question when he stood back up. 

They did look a little flammable, that was how he allowed himself to go with it – he couldn’t let her Wicker Man herself, after all – eating a marshmallow before he had even done anything. 

“What we got to talk about that needs privacy?” He asks, eyebrow raised as he walks away from her for a moment to carefully rest his axe against the side of cabin number six, giving it a gentle reminder to not go anywhere as if could gain some sentience and understand that request. 

“But fine, yeah, if you want.” Silas agrees when he’s back beside her, working his own one man assembly line as he assembled a monstrous s’more that went cracker, chocolate, marshmallow and repeat until it was a two tiered mess before he even placed it near the fire. Fuck it, they would just have to share, he decided. 

He wraps it in foil more carefully than it needed to be and crouches down to place it close enough to the flame to catch some heat without actually catching fire, watching it like an impatient gargoyle. 

When it’s had long enough to melt, he lifts his foil baby away from the fire, cradling it in one palm though the heat that emanated from it got the better of him not long after. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He switches it from his left to his right hand, with zero consideration for the fact the same would occur. “Fuck, that’s hot too.” 

Take three and the bottom of it rests against the plaid shirt covered span of his left forearm, something-degree burn averted as he reaches out to swat her to get her attention with his right hand. 

“Dig in, dickhead.”

—

“There’s always vacant apartments in my building, you know.” Jordan adds despite the urge to ask him to come back bubbling in her chest. He wants his space and he deserves it even if she hates every second of it. The notion that this is all her fault isn’t lost on her. It’s just hard to wrap her head around the idea of him being mad and distant. Especially when he’s standing right there and they’ve been wrapped up together so many times after his release. 

“She’s your type, isn’t she?” She says with a smile as she meets his eyes. “Blonde, spunky, legs for days.” She isn’t really talking about the character anymore but he can probably tell as much from the way she’s looking at him. 

Her eyes flick down to his hands as they made the s'mores, shrugging her shoulder. “I’m gonna tell you when we’re alone. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly scared to go somewhere alone with me? You know I’m harmless, for the most part.” Even if she knows she shouldn’t joke or take it lightly, she can’t help it because there’s something about him that brings out this side of her. She feels more like herself whenever he’s around and she didn’t realize how much she missed it until she got a taste within these few weeks of him being in her apartment and then leaving. 

Their time in that prison visitation room had sucked their connection dry as they were unable to touch or barely even muster the energy to be up-lifting. This was how it had been before everything went to shit. 

And she fucking missed it. 

She watches the dance of the gruesome yet glorious s’mores being passed along from hand to hand, until it’s wrapped up in his shirt. Her fingers move up to her face, mimicking a camera in hand that she’s using to snap an invisible picture of this creation.

A memory to be kept in the back of her head. 

“Don’t mind if I do.” She wraps her hand around his wrist to angle his arm towards her mouth while she holds her hair out of the way to take a bite. There’s no way to avoid the mess of marshmallow and chocolate smearing her face but she fully embraces it. 

“Fuck.” She mumbles between chews, licking her lips before she even tackles the mess on her face. “It’s so fucking good. I dub three ‘s’mores sovereign supreme’.”

“Try it.” Her eyes meet his. “It’s gotta be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.” She tears a pieces off and messily brings it to her mouth for a bite before she extends the half bitten off piece to him.

                                                             —

After wiping her hands together, she walks towards the an area that’s more secluded. “Come on, Jack.” She steps away and then turns to him when she decides that they’re off the path enough no one will just stumble upon them. “I guess the first thing is that Dean found a postcard and flipped his shit. It’s at my apartment if you want it. I think it’s from Marley.” She shrugs. “Who else was writing you?” Her head shakes the seconds its out and she sighs. “Don’t answer that. Listen, can we... --Look, I know you’re still mad at me or whatever and I’m not trying to get you to drop it. But can we just, i don’t know, be ourselves tonight?  I miss you and not just since you left.” 

She inches closer. “I miss laughing and being around you. I know I don’t deserve it but there isn’t any harm in trying and you know I always try to push my luck. But tomorrow, you can go back to ignoring me.” 

Which, no, he couldn’t, but she was just about ready to tell him anything to get him to agree.

.

She was minding her own business, drinking something called ‘mead’ that tasted awful, and secretly wishing she was at work when a sudden and forceful jab to the eye had her doubling over. “Ugh!” She let out an exclamation of pain, hand smacking itself over said eye and keeping pressure like some kind of bleeding wound; it did little good but it brought a level of comfort to her. She wasn’t the type to just launch into a tirade over something that was obviously an accident but her one good eye locked onto Jordan and a whole intensity of fire just slithered down her back. Keeping her jaw tightly locked against the words that so desperately wanted to spew forth, she was positive that Jordan could see it anyway as Zara tended to wear her annoyance on her face; she had little in the way of a poker face. 

“Peachy keen,” she bit out sarcastically instead, hand rubbing some tears away from her eye, now red and irritated from the fabric hitting it just so before letting her hand drop. She probably looked like an idiot, she thought, blinking several times in the sudden light painfully. “And you, Mike Tyson?” She made a jab at the woman having hit her but despite that a part of her genuinely wondered at how the woman was doing. Despite what a handful of others thought, she wasn’t heartless. 

—

Jordan holds onto the jacket and casually folds it in half, one arm wrapped in the itchy material while she keeps her eyes on Zara. It feels like forever but she knows exactly how long its been since she last seen them and it’s been the same amount of time since she last saw Silas. He was probably was what bonded them but Jordan had almost cut everyone out the moment that she watched him get sentenced and walk away. Her days were then spent paying bills and visiting him until she just stopped it all. What she is more curious about is whether Zara knows he came to find Jordan despite her betrayal and if they knows about the latest one. The peachy comment makes her smile because she remembers the quick-witted and sharp personality that the other possesses even after so long. 

“Not that bad. I’ve been okay.” She’d normally flaunt her happiness even if its not the case but with Dean’s news and the fact that Silas had left her apartment, she can’t even muster up the energy to try to fake it. “It’s been a while.” But it isn’t shocking for people to come around now that he was out of prison, now running into people from her past with him because he was here as well. Instinctively, she looks around in the hopes of catching a glimpse of him. “You here alone or are you with someone?”