1963-10-16 - Insurance Talk
Summary: {$summary}
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
steve jack 


The subway ride here is a long one. No job. No money for rent at the Baxter Building. No mission. No rudder. As the green tiles of the subway slide by on a Monday's noontime, Steve is lost in thought. So much so that he almost misses his stop. As he walks, the station seems to be so crowded he can't walk with his arms at his sides without bumping into someone. This is Steve Rogers among the masses. The new reality. And as he walks he does so uncomfortably with hunched shoulders and an odd gait.

"Do you have an appointment?" the lady at the front desk asks.

"No," Steve responds quietly. "If she's not available, I can just leave a message." He almost apologizes for simply being there.

"She should be available, let me check for you."

With his hands clasped behind his back, Steve Rogers looks at still life pictures on the wall that are completely boring. And though he knows he could do a better job than the artist, the boring nature of the artwork brings him a comfort as if it's something to aspire to.

*

Dressed in high heels, a black skirt, and a black blazer, the adjuster steps off the elevator. A few clipped steps see Jack close the distance between her and Steve. Her head cants to the side and she inspects the pictures he studies. "It's kitsch. The kind you'd see in a hotel room."

She shrugs, "Supposed to make things familiar. Peaceful. Friendly, or something." She frowns slightly and allows her shoulders to shrug. "Glad you came by, Captain Rogers. Always good to see a familiar face around here." Her eyebrows lift as she finally turns her head to catch his gaze, "You interested in some insurance then?" She smirks.

*

"Well, uh, that's the reason I came by." Steve's face twists with some uncomfortable qualities, such as a half wince. "With everything happening in the news, I'm not sure that I'm really going to be out and about that much, if you follow me. I'm just wondering what sorts of options you have for someone like me. I'd probably need something cheap. Like, really cheap."

*

Jack nods knowingly and signals for the elevator. "Want to come up?" She shrugs her shoulders. "It's not a great office, in fact," her nose wrinkles, "it's a cubicle. But I have an extra chair," she taps her nose, "And it's passably comfortable too." Her smile softens some. "Yeah, the news isn't always kind to you heroic types. You can blame us in the insurance industry if you like. We're probably at least part to blame."

*

"I've never been big on blaming others. It is only ever partially true, at best, and never really helps anything," Steve says as he looks to the elevator. "Sure, I can come up."

*

Jack leads the way to the elevator and hits the 10th floor. It's not the bottom of the building, but it's also quite far form the top. She leads the way out of the elevator to the end of the hall. The small box that passes as Jack's 'office' is small, but personal. The photos on the 'walls' are family photos with various members playing football.

She motions for the seat on the side of the desk closest to the 'door'. She walks around the desk and takes a seat in her chair. "So. Maybe we need to figure out what you need to have covered." Her smile fails some, tightening as it does so, "I was sorry about what happened to you types. I mean," her eyebrows lift, "it's expensive taking care of the damage, but it's not really fair. You do important work. I've seen it. Firsthand if you recall."

*

"Thanks," Steve says absently as he inspects the pictures of family members. "I'm not sure how much more I'll be doing. Glad I was there on the subway." His eyes peer at the pictures now, inspecting. "Brothers, cousins, boyfriends?" he asks before he takes a seat.

*

"Brothers," Jack points to the back. "I'm the oldest of five," her eyebrows draw together and she cracks an easy smile. "My second youngest brother just joined the police force in Providence. Eighteen," she clucks her tongue. "The youngest is still finishing high school. Although," her eyes narrow, "I think his only interest is football. Nothing academic — much to mom's chagrin."

The comment about boyfriends warrants a chuckle. "I have four younger brothers. I was the first." She points to a photo directly behind Steve, "That is my mom and the four. Ironic I'm the only one that doesn't live at home anymore."

She nods lightly at the thought of not knowing how much heroing he'll be up to, "Well, on one hand, heroing could be MORE of an insurance nightmare for you now. I mean," her eyes turn upwards, "before, theoretically, NATO absorbed some of that. Now? If you want to help, watching the damage is going to be harder, maybe." her nose wrinkles. "Course, I still think most would rather be alive and have property damage than not."

*

"I'm sure the boyfriend will be upset that you only have pictures of the brothers up," Steve says with a chuckle. "Anyways, I haven't gotten a large amount of money, and I'm kind of hoping to get a job in the next few weeks here. How much are the policies? And what do they cover?"

*

Jack rolls her eyes, "No boyfriend, but even if I did… the brothers are constants. Boyfriends," her nose wrinkles, "come and go." Her eyebrows lift. "There are few real constants in life. Family. Friends." Her eyes tick upwards, "Insurance." Her eyes roll. "I can get you a stellar deal, and it'll depend on what you want covered. Policies are cheaper if they cover less. So. A person can get apartment insurance on the cheap if they don't have anything really expensive to replace. You can choose to insure almost anything. In your case, I think it might be worth insuring your apartment, and maybe something basic to cover your heroism…"

*

"Sounds like it makes sense," Steve says with a nod. "I'm going to have to wait until I get a job to purchase the insurance, but I feel like I should probably get a policy on the shield and something small for some keepsakes in the apartment. I just have to, you know, be sure that I have an apartment coming up, here."

*

"Yeah, for sure," Jack nods. "You know," her nose wrinkles, "I have two roommates, but if you were desperate, you could always stay on our couch," even though she's not allowed to invite anyone upstairs thanks to her recent brush with Dracula. "Liv and Max are cool and it's just a small place, but we have a dog! Her name is Christmas." Her cheeks flush. "I — uh — named her. I call her Chrissy for short. We found her in a car when stuff when down in the Park."

*

Whenever Steve is slightly awkward with what he's about to say, he always takes a deep breath, sigh and tilts his head. And this is what he does. Right now. "Well, that could be sort of weird…"

*

"Really?" Jack wrinkles her nose. "How so?" Evidently Jack is immune to the weird. "It's New York. I found the roommates by pulling an ad at the supermarket. I'm pretty sure that it has everything to do with cost and NOTHING else."

*

"Well," he starts, turning his head to the other side. "I'm about to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me. And if you say yes then that'd probably not be appropriate. And if you say no, it would probably be just as inappropriate."

*

"Oh!" Jack's eyes widen with surprise. "Really?" Her nose wrinkles and she leans forward. "You know I just work in insurance, right? I mean… " she motions to her desk, "this is literally the scope of my abilities. Also," her eyes turn upwards, "calculating the odds on a dime. Which is useful. For selling insurance. I was destined." She shoots him a small smile.

Her head tilts to the side. "Actually, too late! I will have dinner with you," she points at him. "No take-backsies, even if I'm SUPER boring and will dull your mind with math all dinner. And no promises that I won't."

*

"I'm not sure what I was destined for. When I was a kid the thought about it used to bother me. With the war things cleared up a bit and I was useful. Now I don't know anymore, so listening to you talk about what you were meant to be is comforting." He tilts and gets a half grin before he adds, "Besides, I basically have an 8th grade education. You could probably teach me something about math."

*

"Excellent! Then it'll be mutually beneficial!" Jack cheers brightly. "Also…" her lips twist to the side, and her voice lowers, "these guys are almost always hiring if you're looking for work. Which," her eyes turn towards her 'door,' as she whispers, "probably says something about their management and work conditions, but the mail room is looking a lot. My friend Ben works down there. You'd like him."

*

"I'll pick up an application on the way downstairs," Steve says with a grin. "Thanks for the tip. If dinner doesn't work out, I guess the mail room will be enough space that you won't run into me much. And the work wouldn't be so encompassing that I won't be able to focus on my art at night. That might work out well."

*

"Art? You do art?" Jack clucks her tongue. "My gosh Captain Rogers, is there anything you don't do?" Her eyebrows lift. "Bring some art along. It's got to be spades better than that kitsch downstairs that is intended to make us all more relaxed and buy more insurance." She grins brightly, "And yeah, definitely pick up an application!"

*

"Sure I can bring some. It might be kind of boring itself, but you can take a look if you like," Steve responds. "Do I need to fill out any paperwork for you to put together the insurance quotes? I don't really know how this thing works."

*

Jack reaches into a file next to her desk and leaves Steve a file. "Well, this is like information release stuff. So. You probably should do that and then I can give you a real quote. To be honest, if you work here, the insurance is incredibly cheap! And a huge perk of being in and around Sensure. I'm pretty sure it's why most employees stay. That and food. I like eating."

*

Steve clears his throat, "Yeah, about that. What kind of food do you like? I eat anything so that's not a problem." He reaches out to grab the file and begins to look it over. It means nothing to him, but he does his best.

*

"Uh… " Jack attempts to remember all of the rules she'd once been told about food she should or shouldn't eat on a dinner date, but somehow has managed to forget it all and so she says, "…pretty much anything. I like diners a lot. Greasy food with french fries is kind of like my bread and butter. Statistically with the number of fries I eat, I'm more likely to choke on a french fry than have a vending machine fall on me. Which," she taps her nose, "is actually a way people die."

*

"Sometimes it's better to just let the machine take your money, I guess," Steve admits. "If you want a greasy spoon, I can do greasy spoon. If you want something fancy, we can do that too. And if you choke on a fry, it should be noted that I am fully trained in First Aid."

*

"Greasy spoon it is!" Jack's eyes widen excitedly. She raises a single finger in the air, "Not sure how I'd do somewhere fancy. I've never really… done that." She issues him a shrug, "But it's reassuring to know that my date knows First Aid. Choking emergencies are real. VERY real."

*

"Maybe if it goes well and if I get a job, we can find somewhere fancy. I'll try and remember my manners," Steve stands and grins. "I have a meeting with a newspaper about a comic strip later this afternoon. Do you mind if I leave you my phone number?"

*

Jack actually straightens at the question and she nods. "Not at all." She reaches for one of her cards that sits on her desk and she writes down a second number on it before passing it to Steve, "And here is mine. Uh… " her smile quirks slightly "… ignore the work numbers. I mean, you can call me here, but the one I wrote? That's my home number. Which. Please feel free to call. If Liv or Max answer, just make sure you tell them you're not a vampire," which will not be suspicious at all. Her nose wrinkles, "It's kind of along story."

*

Steve begins writing on a slip of paper he pulls from his pocket. He stops abruptly and raises an eyebrow. "You know, I had someone talking to me about vampires the other day. She was trying to recruit me to go and fight them. Something about Hell's Kitchen." He scrawls the number and slides it over to Jack.

*

Jack's smile fades some at the thought. "Yeah. It happened in Hell's Kitchen — " the paper is pocketed and she hums quietly. "I'll tell you about it at dinner. It's… a pretty long story. Like days long." She shoots him another smile.

*

"Guess I'd better make it an all night diner. Good to know," Steve says with a smile. "Thanks for meeting with me. Sorry I didn't make an appointment. I'll call you." He smiles and walks towards the elevator, double checking to make sure he has her card.

*

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License