1964-01-05 - Just a Walk
Summary: Trish follows Jessica to see Ramsden and learn more about Vigor. Jessica is doing surprisingly well.
Related: Buy the Ticket; Grim Connection
Theme Song: None
trish jessica 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! "Jessica?" Patricia Walker, AKA Trish, stands outside the door of Jessica Jones' apartment. Not for the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. Only this time she doesn't use her key to get in. Afterall, it's not like the last time she used the key. Jessica's not missing, afterall.

She holds her purse close to her body, as she removes gloves from her hands. "Jessica, are you home?" She knocks once again, waiting for the other woman to answer.


Inside the apartment, Jessica Jones has been getting back to work after a semi-unusual (at least by Jessica's standards) week of mostly staying in — which is likely what drove Trish to visit Jess in the first place. The door opens and there she is. Sober. Showered. Dressed in her black jacket, a white t-shirt, and her black combat boots.

With her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail and her lips curved into an odd smirk, she actually looks like she's on her way out. "Hey," she states as she steps into the hallway and then (VERY UNUSUALLY) locks the door behind her. Her hands tuck into her pockets. "Heading out." Her eyes narrow, "For a walk," which, by Jessica standards, probably counts as an invitation.


"Oh…" Trish is caught off guard for a moment, looking Jess over. What's this? All cleaned up, not smelling of liquor, and the closest thing Jessica Jones gets to an invitation without actually inviting a person along? It's like Miracle on 34th Street, except real! Tugging her gloves back on, she nods. "A walk is good."

She looks Jessica over again. "How…are you feeling?" She almost seems hesitant to ask, considering how she was when she appeared at her apartment.


A vague arch of Jessica's eyes speaks more than any reply she could give, but then after the question settles a bit, her eyes actually roll and her lips edge into a near smile. She shrugs, "Fine." Sometimes talking to Jessica Jones is as engaging as talking to the wall. And then, as a kind of strange afterthought, she asks in turn: "How are you?" her jaw tightens while her lips stretch into a strained sort of smile. It's not concealing, exactly, but it's not wholly honest either.

She leads the way down the hallway and down the stairs to the open street. "Been working the case again," her head turns to Trish. "I think we're close." Because ultimately, evidently, that's what matters. Although, it's unlikely she's going to be able to duck more personal questions about the state of the union.


"Fine? Good. Good. Fine is good." Trish, actress extraordinaire, comes up with 'Fine is good' as a response. "I like fine." She clears her throat. "Me?" She glances to Jessica as they walk down the hallway. "Oh, yeah. Good. Though I ended up having to fire that assistant you uh…you met. I felt horrible, but Charity just was not good at the job." She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Besides, if anyone's going to say that Jessica Jones stinks, it really should be me." A little, somewhat amused smirk crosses her face.

"Oh right, yes. The case. Good. Really, I'm here to help. Just tell me what you need and…" she motions forward with her hand while making a whooshing sound, "I'm there. I'll do whatever it takes to get this case done. Even if it means talking to the president of the United States. I'll do it, too!"


Jessica stops in her tracks at the mention of anyone asserting Jessica Jones stinks. Her expression turns nearly comical, but then with a vague shake of her head she brushes the thought aside, and instead falls on, "She was an idiot," because Jessica says it like it is. With a small shrug she offers, "Assistants are a dime a dozen. Find a new one." She arches a wry eyebrow.

The mention of the President warrants a shake of her head, "Not necessary, Trish. I think we're close. With the new drug Vigor matching the timeline with the whole missing high school kids, I think we have a link. And, thanks to the junkie down the hall," Malcolm proved helpful, "we're going up the supply chain." It might warrant asking who we is, but Jessica uses it so casually she doesn't give it a second thought.


Laughing, Trish grins and shakes her head. "She was definitely an idiot. Had to go. I'll get a new one eventually. For now, I make my own calls, though. No middle person doing the work for me."

It's time for Trish to arch her brow as they walk and she listens. "Going up the supply chain, huh? Well, I definitely want to help with that. Whatever you need with this, I'm here."


"Good," Jessica replies with another arch of her eyebrow. "We'll need to be willing to go all the way up." She shoots Trish a side-smile. Something in her eyes reflects an unusual warmth as the pair move through the cold block. She leads the way towards the electronics store.

"So. You still with that fellow?" She never asks about these things. "The writer?"


"We'll get there. The very top! They won't know what hit 'em!" Trish doesn't know where this side of Jessica is coming from. It's just…so much more positive than normal. She likes it. She's certainly not complaining. It's just so…unusual! She gives Jess a little smile of support.

"John? Oh, yes. I mean, we're both busy, but yes. I uh…huh. How about you and that Remy fellow? Anything going on there?" She gives Jess a little sly grin and a wink.


"Yeah, John. He's… odd." Jessica squints. "But I think he's good." The mention of Remy causes Jessica's lips to purse rather secretively as the two fall into step. She swallows hard. "Look, I don't want you to make a big deal of it because it's not a big deal," her tone flattens. "He spent most of the week at my apartment." She shrugs. See? No big deal. "We're… spending a lot of time together." Whatever that means.

She rounds the corner and opens the door to the electronics store, theoretically inviting Trish inside.


"Odd, maybe. But yes, good too. He's a good odd. And I like his writing." Trish nods. She looks as if she's about to say more when she's hit with the news about Remy staying over at Jessica's. "A big deal? Why would I make a big deal out of it?" But she's already speaking in her excited voice. "He only just spent the week at your apartment!!!" Okay, yes. She said 'most of the week'. But still! "Aww, Jess and Remy! That's adorable! You really must like him, don't you?! We should have brunch, the two of you and me and John!" Yes, she's starting to make a big deal out of it.

She takes a deep breath in as she steps into the store. She can totally act normal. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't get so excited." But it's Jess and a boy! "You two really get along, huh?" She asks as she looks around the shop.


Jess stares at Trish. "No. No brunch." Because that has all the ickiness of coupledom that Jessica doesn't want. She treads into the store and just shakes her head at Trish's marvelling. It's then she spies the man behind the counter. "You Ramsden?"

"Who wants to know?"

Jessica glares at him. "Look. Are you Ramsden or not? I'm looking for Ramsden. I need — " she shakes her head. "I'm looking for a Vigor hookup. Heard Ramsden could do it."

He leans forward, "You buying?"

Jessica glances around the room, shoots Trish a semi-apologetic glance, and then reaches for the man's collar. "No. I'm looking for your supplier. Who do you buy from?"

"Geez Lady! You a fucking cop?"

Jessica glances at Trish again, "No. But I'll report you if you don't give me what I want. Or I'll do worse than reporting you."

He looks towards Trish, hoping for some semblance of help.


"Fine. Fine. No brunch. Just regular lunch. No fancy foods that are difficult to pronounce. Just burgers and fries and pizza and food fights." Because what's lunch without a food fight? When Jessica goes about asking for the drug, and then handling the clerk in a way only Jessica could, Trish sighs. Well, so much for the nice walk.

As she approaches the man and Jessica, she starts digging through her purse. "I'd do tell her what she wants. People who get on her badside have a tendency to regret it."

She starts counting something in her purse. Finally, she pulls out a wad of cash. "Three hundred bucks. It's yours if your tell her what she wants to know. Otherwise, here's what happens. She beats you up, I keep the cash, you still tell her what she wants to know, and you live regretting the fact that you could have had money instead of a broken body."


The fellow stares at Trish and then Jessica and his shoulders slump with a sigh. As they slump, Jessica let's go — the resignation is palpable. She casts a glance towards Trish, not giving any mention or thought to lunch, and instead, merely nods.

She crosses her arms over her chest, and lifts her eyebrows as the man straightens himself.

"Fine. I'll write down my supplier, but you can't say anytihng about where you got the name from," the man insists as he nabs a piece of paper.

Jessica casts a glance towards Trish again and then nods. Good. And then she adds, "You'll get as a dose as well." She shakes her head at Trish, no she's not going to take it. "We need it," as evidence.

The fellow stares at the pair and mutters to himself as he takes the money and reaches into his pocket extracting a small vial of fluid which is handed to Jessica.

The piece of paper is retrieved from the man, and Jessica motions her head towards the door; her and Trish are done here. Both the paper and vial are pocketed and they're outside once again. "Remy and I… it's complicated," she offers. "But." She swallows hard around a growing lump in her throat, "I care about him. A lot."

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