A Blade of Time


jj_icon.gif monica_icon.gif

Scene Title A Blade of Time
Synopsis JJ's timing is impeccable when he brings her a gift that had a starring role in her dream the night before.
Date August 11, 2011

Skinny Brickfront

Early evening is a little too early for Monica to go out hopping rooftops, given there's still light out and such, but there's at least one roof getting her attention. Since she has such a hard time sitting still ever, she's using the open space for work out purposes. Can never been in too good a shape, right?

Tonight, it appears to be some mix between martial arts and dance, which would be totally useless in an actual fight, unless it was for looking cool in some actiony kung fu flick. But it does look cool! And it is certainly a good work out. And a fairly unique one, too, but what good are these crazy powers if you can't spice up your exercise routine?

JJ was pointed to the roof by one of Monica's housemates, and as usual he comes bearing food as a gift. While he might like to watch his mother's cool dance-fu for a bit, he also knows it's dangerous to sneak up on someone like Monica. He clears his throat to announce his arrival.

"Looking good. Kicking ass and taking names?" he asks with his trademark broad grin, brows rising. He looks less official and less formidable than the last time she saw him in person — baggy jeans, tennis shoes, and a blue t-shirt that makes his eyes look more gold-green in the dimming twilight.

"I made some jambalaya for Adel yesterday so I brought over the leftovers," he says, lifting a bag with tupperware in it. "Not as good as yours, of course." At least the ingredients are easier to come by for him than they were for her in the future she hasn't yet lived in.

The sound gets her attention and she straightens up and looks over his way, grinning when she sees who it is. "Always," she says, playfully prideful as she makes her way over. As he explains the food, she brightens up. "You know how long it's been since I had jambalaya? Too long. I'm sure it's great."

She greets him, though, with a warm hug before she nods him over to sit down. "You keep feeding me. You must think we never eat over here. Come on, have a seat. I had a dream about you last night," she adds as she sits down herself.

The young man responds with a warm hug of his own, then follows her to sit, resting the bag of food with the backpack he's carried over. "Food is love, they say, right? And it's easy enough. And while I know you guys eat and can fend for yourselves, I figure a bit of variety's always welcome. And c'mon. Like any of them know how to make Nana's Jambalaya?"

He looks out over the city's rooftops at the dying sun, then back to her. "I hope it wasn't a bad one," JJ says, smile softer than the joking smirk of a moment before.

"You've got a point there. It isn't exactly the place for great recipes and such. Thanks," Monica says before she takes a peek in the backpack. It could be that she probably is pretty hungry out here, but just won't admit it. Regardless, she doesn't pull anything out just yet, but she does give him a grateful smile.

"No no, it wasn't bad. Actually, I haven't had too many that have been bad… I mean, you know. In comparison. To other people's. But seems to me, we did pretty okay, all things considered." But that's a Dawson trait, not letting it get you down.

In the backpack are other supplies — some fresh apples, toilet paper, soap. What doesn't go with the typical supply run is barely visible in the depths of the bag, shadowed where it rests against the seam.

A scabbard, the hilt of a dagger jutting from its edge.

Just like the one tossed to her in the dream last night.

JJ smiles at her words and nods. "Yeah. You did pretty okay," he agrees. "I go to say goodbye to you — both of you — before coming this way. Not all the others are so lucky." His tone moves from proud of her and happy for himself to one of sympathy for the others.

"You did? I… I hope we were supportive. I mean, who hasn't gone on a time traveling adventure to save the world?" But she can imagine being particularly worried about unmaking their future and all. Monica almost doesn't see that hilt sticking up there. Almost.

There's a bit of a double take before she really looks back at it, and then back up to JJ again. But she doesn't know exactly what to say, so after a false start, she reaches down to pull the scabbard out. "You know… you have some crazy timing."

"You were," he says softly, fondly. "It was the hardest thing I had to do, saying goodbye. I'm glad to catch you on the flip side here, though."

He raises his brow. "Well, if you had a dream, I wouldn't be shocked to know that thing was in it. You pretty much always had it with you. You know they're supposed to maybe have spirits in them? Good or bad, depending. Yours must be a good one, though. I figured you could use some good luck, here."

JJ grins after a beat. "Don't worry, I didn't steal it from your purse. I asked if I could take it with me," he adds.

"Oh, I bet. I mean, I remembering saying goodbye to Nana and Damon and how hard that was, but I wasn't leaving like… forever leaving." Monica reaches over to put a hand on his arm, "I'm glad you found me here, too, though. I know it's not the same and all, but you know. It's good to be around family."

When she looks back to the dagger, there's a little smile on her face, "Peter gave it to me the night the Ferry rescued us from the prison convoy." She lays it across her lap there, her expression odd, but in a good way. "It's weird. This dagger, the crossbow, it's just like my comic. I mean, I knew it was about me, but it's a little weird, having hard evidence in your lap like this. Did… did I ever tell you about 9th Wonders?" Because she might be talking jibberish right now.

JJ nods. "I have a copy of it. I brought it back with me, too but… it's in someone else's keeping right now," he says. "Issue 10 I mean. With you — St. Joan."

He reaches to squeeze her shoulder. "It's not that amazing to me. You've always been a hero in my life, you know? That someone else could see that doesn't surprise me at all."

His eyes suddenly light up. "I bet I can find more copies of it now — in 2040, not so much."

"Well, it's pretty weird to me! Not everyday someone shows you a comic of you hopping around like a ninja. Even weirder when you have been hopping around like a ninja. I knew precogs existed and all, but to be the subject was a little strange. But also awesome." Monica grins there, and her hands moves to cover his on her shoulder. "I've just always felt like… I have these powers for a reason, and just sitting around ignoring things would be such an insult. I can do, so I do." And there's a shrug. She doesn't think it's so special, being a hero.

"Oh, yeah, you probably could. There's a comic shop I like over in the Bronx… we should check it out sometime. I… it didn't occur to me that stuff like that probably wasn't around when you were a kid."

The younger man nods at her words. "I guess it's not a surprise I agree. I mean, you taught me to believe as much. I get the world being afraid, but there's a reason we have the abilities we do."

He shrugs at the rest. "We got by. We had a lot of old stuff, books and records and things like that. Anything that people could get their hands on. And we read them backwards, forwards, inside out until they fell apart. I bet our generation from the Ferry are among the brightest, if you put us up against the 'haves' out in the cities, the ones who aren't in hiding? Like kids today, so many of 'em just want to listen to their iPods and play XBox… only worse."

He grins. "Okay, I really like XBox," JJ admits.

Monica can't help but laugh at that confession, and she leans over to give him another hug. "Can't blame you there. I don't get to play often, except if I'm hanging out with Magnes. But it's always fun," she concedes as she settles back again. "But, you know, when you're forced to read and your your own imagination to entertain yourself… I'm not surprised you kids are bright. At the same time, maybe this time around, the next generation will have a little more frivolity."

He grins at her concession, then nods. "Some of them could use it," he says seriously, and it's clear he doesn't count himself as really part of the "oppressed." He's already said he was lucky. "It'd be interesting to see what they'd be like, if they hadn't had such rough lives."

One shoulder lifts and falls. "I guess we'll never know."

"I guess not," Monica says, drooping a little there. "Hey, what… are you guys gonna do when this is all over? When you've done the mission. Are you sticking around? Can you even… go back?" Would you want to is left unasked, but she does show plenty of concern. "I worry about you." Probably for all of them a little, but him more than most. Obviously.

"I don't know," is quiet, and his green eyes turn to look out over the city. "If we change things, it's not like that's going to be our home anymore. Everything's already different, you know? Dad… he had a kid before me. With Delia Ryans. They were still together at this time, where I come from. That's different. The changes we're making — we don't want you to have to go to prison, we don't want there to be concentration camps, or laws against having kids. We want that to change. It's why we're here."

His gaze returns to her. "But it means sacrifice. I don't know if we can go back for sure or not, and if we do, it's going to be a different world. Hopefully a lot different, but even just a little change here or there makes a big difference in the end."

He snorts a touch at his words. "That sounds like a fundraising campaign."

"It does, a bit," Monica says with a crooked, but not quite mirthful smile. "You guys are all very brave, making the choice to do all this. And I know back then is different… and I know here is different, too, but I hope you know that you could stay. I mean, we're not all the same, but you're still family. Might make introductions a little strange, but…" But she wouldn't mind so much.

The broad smile returns. "You always know how to make a kid feel welcome. You were totally one of the cool moms, just so you know."

He stands, closing the backpack to sling over his shoulder. "Come on. Let's go stow this for later and go run around to burn off some energy. You still have a few tricks to show me, Mon." Mon sounds close enough to Mom that it doesn't feel unnatural to say. And if he slips up, well, people might just think they misheard him, if he's in mixed company.

"Good! I always aim to be cool. Adel said I taught her to play the drums then, I don't know if it gets much cooler than that." Monica stands up, too, bringing the dagger with her. She's going to be reluctant to leave that behind, she can tell already. "Sure! Whatever tricks you want to learn. We're gonna have to find some time to have an X-Box night, too, you know. This way," she says with a grin as she leads the way down to get everything put away right.

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