1964-09-27 - Late Night at Luke's
Summary: Sharon comes to check in on Luke after the news articles and finds a surprise. Jess. Complicated feelings ensue.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jessica-jones sharon luke-cage 

While he'd almost talked her into quitting the job she hates, Sharon never seems to quite get there. SHe gets another mission, something more important than pride, and she disappears for days or weeks. This time was almost two weeks, not a word or note, but when she got back she realized she'd missed a lot. Not just that, but she might actually care for the guy — especially as she read the newspaper and what happened. She took a day to try and push it down, figured he didn't need complications in his life, but eventually late night hours, worry, and the sliver of her heart that is still left is enough to get her off her ass and to that bar.

So, nearly 1 am, that's where she is. In her jeans, tank top, leather jacket, a nice blossom of a bruise on her right temple and down the right side of her face, her lip split, but otherwise it's Sharon and she's trying not to look as worried as she feels. She ducks her head into the bar where a girl white as her has no right to belong, worried eyes tracking across the place for her friend. "…Luke?"

Sure enough Luke is there at the bar as usual, however he isn't found behind the counter. He is currently shirtless over in the back corner using a spackling knife to fill in one of many bullet holes that litter the walls of the establishment. Other walls sport more holes, some having been already filled while others remain splintered and raw.

"Over here…" he says as he starts to look over his shoulder, a smile forming as he sees Sharon. The smiles stops as he sees her bruises and split lip. "Rough job?" He sighs, setting the sapckle down and wiping his hands on his jeans, moving over towards the bar. "What can I get you? Bourbon?"

A deeper smirk comes as he asks her about the job and she waves it off, "Nah. Certainly had worse. Hell…seems like you had a worse time than I have lately." Sharon's eyes flicker across the bar and, for as careless as she tries to look, he will probably catch the heavy brush of worry across her face as she inspects some of the lingering bullet holes. Still, she breathes a bit easier for seeing him in one piece. "Bourbon is fine, long as you're having one too. YOu bothered to even stop and relax since all this shit happened?"

Luke Cage smirks. "Whose got time to relax?" He reaches over the counter and grabs a bottle of bourbon, and not the cheap stuff either, he grabs the top shelf shit. Collecting a pair of glasses he slides one in front of Sharon and pours her a glass, then himself. "Gotta patch this place up in between customers. Not that I've gotten all that many since the attack. Just a few of the regulars."

It's like she knows him too well, or is just really good at reading people, that Sharon just KNEW he'd been working through since the moment it all happened. SHe sighs and shakes her head, "Work-a-holic. Not good for you, you know. Or so they tell me." She deadpans huskily, sauntering up to the bar after him and shifting her hip up onto a barstool. She's definitely moving a bit slow, sore in places that aren't her face, but she's mostly hiding it well. Part of the job. "Finish these drinks and say I help you? Until closing time, at least." She offers an inch more gently than her normal flat, cool words.

Jessica Jones makes her way into the bar, sticking her head in. She's got sunglasses on and her usual leather jacket, looking back over her shoulder at someone unseen.

"Same to you, pal, only with both hands!" she shouts, slamming the door behind her and shaking her head as she heads towards the bar, "Whiskey til it burns, Luke," she says, plopping down and then glancing over to see Sharon there, "Oh. Hey there," she says.

Luke Cage shrugs a shoulder, as he lifts his glass of bourbon to his lips. "Yeah, well, what else do I got to do, Sharon? All I got is work. Besides, takes one to know one." He smirks at the blonde, downing the glass of liquor in his hand before refilling it without a second thought. "If you want to lend a hand, I won't turn down the help. I'm not a carpenter nor a contractor so I am just kinda winging it."

He looks to the door as Jessica comes in, a slight chuckle escaping his throat. "Another admirer, Jess? Keep that up and you are going to be drowning in phone numbers. You'll have to start keeping a little black book." He turns, grabbing a bottle of whiskey off the shelf and sets it down in front of the PI. No glass.

Sharon is sporting a mighty fine shiner over her right temple and cheek and the leather jacket to match — like she got in a fight with some bikers twice her size and half her IQ. She looks over as the vaguely familiar woman comes in and gives a small nod on Jessica's direction, "Evenin'… Heard the shit went down here. Thought I'd come check up on him." Sharon murmurs flatly, still half worried, but most of it has calmed down by now.

Then she's looking back over to Luke and she gives a curt nod in agreement, "I…have had to cover up a few bullet holes in my time. It's not that hard and looks like you got the hang of it. But we can get that wall clean before the end of the night, at least."

Jessica Jones snorts, "Afraid of a little competition, Luke? Don't worry, you give me booze, I still like you best," she says, taking her bottle and unscrewing the top.

She looks Sharon up and down, "Looks like you just barely dodged a few bullets recently yourself, sister. I'm glad someone's willing to help Luke with the manual labor around here. Cause god knows I ain't gonna," she says, shrugging off her jacket to reveal a grey wifebeater as she pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

"Sharon, Jessica. Jessica, Sharon." Luke says as a means of introduction, waving a hand between the two women.

"Shoving spackle into a hole isn't that hard to do, no. I don't think I am going to get it back to the pristine shape it was in before, but at least once I get the holes filled and painted, it shouldn't look to bad." he says to Sharon, "Not that it matters much. As I said, aside from the regulars like Jess here, business has been down since the incident."

He smirks over at Jessica, "I am not afraid of competition, I'll be sure to let you know if I see any around." He flicks a peanut over towards the PI, "I give you a stool with your name on it, and I still don't get any help? Where is the love? Man, you wound me." He snorts, sipping at his glass of bourbon.

A wave off about dodging the bullets, Sharon's smirk deepening again around that split lip, "I felt like getting the blood moving, so went a few rounds with a gorilla. Certainly had worse fights. Looks worse than it is. Much like the bar here… You're both lucky you don't have lead in you permanently." Sharon states quietly, though she doesn't quite meet Luke's eyes as she says that, not wanting to give away that she might know anything about the fact she should be more worried about the wall than him.

"And I guess that just means me and the lady here need to come here twice as often to get sauced, just so we can keep you in business." Sharon winks at Luke in a way that is as close to flirting as she knows how to do. The affection on her features for him is strange, but it's certainly there. "And I met Jess before… one of the only women around who can give me a run for my money drinking."

Jessica Jones nods, "Yeah, Sharon and I have crossed shot glasses a few times," she says, amused as she remembers the last time with that group of women. Sharon's remarks about Luke at the time had been rather saucy indeed, as she recalled.

"I been shot at plenty, no doubt about that," she says. "An' you don't want me helpin' anyway. Maybe ain't hard to do, but I find a way to fuck up even perfectly simple tasks. Just ask my…well, anybody," she snorts. "An' I earned that stool, dammit."

"Ah…right. Batteries." says Luke as he looks between Sharon and Jessica. He gives each of the women a wink, before taking another sip from his bourbon.

Looking to Sharon, he nods. "I'm just glad none of the flying lead made its way into anything that couldn't take a hit. I think I took the brunt of it, if the shreds of my clothes were any indication. You don't stand up to 9 guys with automatic rifles and 30 round clips and leave with intact clothing. The other guys that were here, well, they had their own tricks up their sleeves." I guess the question about whom might know about his abilities is no longer in question.

He looks to Jess, "Yeah, i've noticed that about you. You can't even pay a bill right." He grins, obvious humor in his voice as he looks to Jessica. "But you know what they say, practice, practice, practice. Maybe eventually you will get it down."

As Luke comments about what can take a hit, clearly including himself, and then describes the scene? Well, some color quickly drains out of Sharon's face. If she was hiding how worried she was before, it's there now. She shakes her head slowly, "…got fucking lucky. Were you here for it, Jess? How… bad was this mess and how many people now know?" THose words are asked in a lower voice, since it's clear the other woman knows too. Now Sharon's mind is running over a dozen other worries and possibilities — who noticed Luke should be dead and isn't? How much more blow back is going to come on this bar? Sharon has now completely forgotten her bourbon as she reaches for a cigarette.

Jessica Jones nods, "If I knew that was all it took to get your shirt off, I'd probably have brought a shotgun earlier. And I told you, I'm gonna pay you, I just gotta wait for Mrs. Plotkin to get her pension check, only there's a hold-up at the office on account of Dr. Levy not giving her the proper paperwork to account for her sciatica," she snorts to Luke.

She shakes her head to the question from Sharon, "Nah, I was on a case that night," she says. "Wish I'd been, I'd have knocked some teeth down their throat. Although I guess there was a flaming skeleton guy, though, so…I mean…there's that."

Luke Cage shrugs, sipping at his bourbon. "Enough people that it made a mention on the news, but not enough that I have had anyone coming to test that rumor." he says to Sharon. "As for people that can 'confirm' what happened, a couple…but they have their own secrets to hide."

He glances over to Jess and smirks, "You don't need a shotgun, you just need to be here earlier. I was shirtless when Sharon walked in. You're late, you loose."

He looks between the two, "But yeah, there were a couple other people here that 'helped' out. One guy who was blue and bounced around like a rubber ball, and then some other dude who turned into a flaming skeleton. Aside from the gunmen, nobody else got hurt and that is the important thing. I couldn't just let the guys open fire on the crowd…not when I could at least draw the fire and not get hurt."

"…you all live WAY more interesting lives than I do, and I'm hoping over to Asia every other week right now. FLaming skeleton? Damn…" Sharon mutters, shaking her head to herself. SHe doesn't call any of them liars, she's seen more strange things in this world, but it all seems a bit improbable. So, Sharon takes a deep drag of her cigarette and then remembers she has good bourbon, which she knocks back in a longer sip than one should take with the good stuff. But, then, she's never had issues paying her tab here and would probably pay for this one, whether Luke liked it or not.

"…And…I remember a few other ways to get your shirt off, Luke… hell, if there weren't any patrons around tonight…" Sharon gives him a sly, momentarily flirtatious smile before blinking back to Jess, her mind only now catching up with the fact that the woman is also flirting with him. She doesn't look miffed, simply… Curious.

Jessica Jones takes another long drink of her whiskey and snorts, "Bouncing guy's gotta be mad. LIke, the other dude's a flaming skeleton and he just bounces? Kinda sucks," she says. She finishes her cigarette, putting it out int eh ashtray as she stretches out.

"Believe me, my life's plenty boring, this is the exciting part," she says. SHe meets Sharon's eyes for a moment and shrugs, "Don't let me stop you, sugar. I never complain about Luke getting his shirt off, I'm not crazy."

Luke Cage lets out a little chuckle as he glances between Jessica and Sharon, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink, "Well, once I finish this drink I am going back to work, and I take the shirt off when I work so I don't get that spackle crap all over it, so in a moment here you will both win." He checks his watch and shrugs, "Not that I expect to see any patrons in here anytime soon. I'm tempted to just close up early."

He look to Sharon and Jess, "Which one of you is going to let me have a cigarette? I could use one myself." Luke reaches under the bar and slides an ashtray onto the counter. "Hey, Jess. Did you ever call that lawyer chick? Maybe you wouldn't have to wait for Mrs. Plotkin's pension."

"…I gotta do everything, don't I?" Sharon seems to have grokked that money isn't good for Jessica — not that the woman has been quiet about it — so a precious cigarette can mean a lot. If there is anything the bruised blonde has, it's money. So she gets up, pulling out one of her cigarettes and slipping it between her lips so she can light it for Luke before she passes it over, tasting like the bourbon he'd poured her. "Also…for all our drinks. I got it covered tonight. Consider it a celebration of all of us still fucking breathing." Sharon mutters, pulling out a twenty from her back pocket — she really is just walking around with that large a bill or five, and she slips it under the bottle of bourbon that Luke pulled out.

Then she side eyes the fact that Jessica has an ENTIRE bottle of whiskey in front of her. "…you're an expensive date." She flatly mutters, pulling out a ten and putting it alongside of the twenty. "And there's a tip in there for the show we're both about to get. No batteries needed."

Jessica Jones pushes off her stool and goes to the door, kicking out a straggler who's been milking a beer for about an hour, "Go home to your wife, Mort, pretend you love her, you've had enough booze to manage it," she says, shoving him out and turning the lock as she flips the sign to closed.

She lights a fresh cigarette of her own, letting Sharon provide one to Luke as she slides the bottle to the other woman, "Hey, I never minded sharin'," she says with a wink, letting the other woman have a drink if she'd like. "I think you usually stuff the tips down their pants, though. Not that I been to those kinda places."

She totally has.

Luke Cage arches a brow and laughs as Jessica tosses Morty out on his ass, locking the door behind him. "Well…I Guess that settles that."

Luke takes the offered cigarette and sets it in the ashtray once he takes a drag. Exhaling the smoke through his nose, he walks around the bar and takes off the t-shirt he is wearing before leaning between the two women to gather up the cigarette. "Hell, Sharon, I was just going to put it on Danny's tab. I don't think he even looks at his bill when he comes in here."

He walks over to the area where he was fixing the wall, and goes back to work spackling another one of the holes. "Uh huh, Jessica. I believe that as much as I believe you are going to actually pay your own tab one day."

There is a flickering, uncertain moment across Sharon's eyes where she's actually trying to figure out if Jess minds sharing or not, or if this flirting is a joke, or what. Swingers, she'd heard about parties, but they weren't really considered normal or healthy. Of course, neither were white girls with a black boy. However, for a moment, there is that deer in headlights look that Luke has seen on her face before, when Sharon feels some weird brush of human emotion and simply isn't sure what to do with it. She just downs the rest of her bourbon instead.

THe burn down her throat is enough to help half clear her head. Sharon pushes herself into standing. "I…I'd seriously hate to intrude. You enjoy the show, Jess. I… I just wanted to make certain everyone was in one piece. Things can be replaced. People can't. I should… take off… Really." Easier to run. She was good at that.

Jessica Jones sees that turn of emotion on Sharon's face and frowns, "Hey, hey, no, c'mon, don't go," she says. She sighs, "I mean, if you gotta, you gotta, but I was kinda hoping…" she says, then trails off, not sure what to say, "Well, I dunno what I was hopin', exactly, but I like you, I like him, I want ya to stay and you should humor me, so fuckin' sit, have another drink, look at the pretty man fix the wall," she grins. "C'mon, how often do you get a show like that? Again, other than going to those kind of places. To which I definitely do not go."

"I'm just fixing a wall." says Luke looking over his shoulder at the pair at the bar. "It's not like I am dancing around in my boxers or anything, jesus. And they say men are animals." He smirks, turning his attention back to the wall and starting to set sparkle into another hole, "Besides, I thought you said you were going to help me out, Sharon? But, you do what you gotta do. Not like I am going to force you to stay and keep company."

It doesn't take a detective to read into what Jessica is saying, much less a woman who is actually GOOD at reading people's body language. It's not just joking. THere is no one else around to laugh, or be shown off to. The offer is genuine and the implication clear. Sharon's devil may care smirk falters, bruised eyes flickering back and forth between the pair as she tries to wrap her mind around this. Instead, she just grabs for Jessica's whiskey bottle and takes a belt from it herself. "…I'm really shitty at actually… being… I don't know, affectionate or doing anything beyond fucking a guy because it's the easiest way to kill him, so… just a warning." Sharon half coughs out those words, the tone not joking at all even if they're pretty terrifying. She takes one last gulp of whiskey and then picks her way over to Luke's side and the hardware. Apparently, she's staying for now.

But Luke isn't the only one getting less clothed for it. SHaron was NOT messing up her favourite leather jacket with spackle. She peels it off, the holster at the back of her waist now clear and at least one gun in the pocket of her coat from the way it hangs. She sets it aside and her tank top follows a moment later — black and plaster don't go well together. SHe's got a sports bra beneath and looks like five miles of bad land, especially over her right side. It wasn't just her face that took that fight. Ribs are taped up, so half her stomach is concealed by that, but the booze helps her move a bit easier as she leans down to get the tools.

Jessica Jones snorts at Luke, "Well, I mean, nobody's stopping you, I don't think we're gonna complain if you do it in your shorts," she teases.

Then she gets a look at Sharon's injuries and there's something intense on her face. She's had those kind of bruises. And it's hard for her to get them, being tougher than a normal human. He had to do a lot of things to her to mess her up like that. Which is why he did it, of course. He liked to see how hard he could push her, how much he could make her do. How much she would endure for him and still smile at the end and tell him that she loved him, even if she didn't, not really, did she, sometimes she wasn't sure and then.

Stop. Stop. STOP.

She closes her eyes for a moment, laying her head on the bar and grabbing the bottle. She takes a long, long drink, her eyes closed and there's almost the hint of a tear at the corner of her eye. And then she walks over to Sharon and just touches her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. She doesn't know how Sharon got messed up or who did it. But she wants her to know that she gives a god damn, because somebody ought to.

Luke Cage says, "Yeah I bet not…i'd take the jeans off, but they are already stained." says Luke, looking over his shoulder to Jessica with a smirk, tracking her movements over towards Sharon. When he sees her with her shirt off and the tape and bruises, he visibly winces. "Damn, Sharon. You don't have to help with this, you know. You can just sit back and keep company while I do the work. I wasn't expecting the assistance."

He shifts his eyes to Jessica, a slightly concerned look washing over them as he flicks his eyes to her. "Don't let her hurt herself anymore, ok? She doesn't need to be helping my ass out.""

For all the weird emotional shit in the back of Sharon's head, the complete inability to figure that SOMEONE could care about her and she could just care about someone without strings or outside motives, she doesn't act like a woman who's been hit in *that* way. Her bruises were earned out of pride and work, not out of fear. She really acts rather blaise about them and not because she's trying to ignore them, just because it's so much a part of her life it's not an issue. She blinks, though, as she sees that strange array of something across Jess' features, and then the woman has got her shoulder and that look is way too heavy for friendship or drinking. Sharon just looks up to her, quietly wrapping a hand overtop of Jess' palm and giving a squeeze that says a lot more than she can in words.

"…Shit, both of you. I ain't some china doll. This was lucky, really. At least he didn't have a gun or a knife. I did. You don't need me to tell you how that ended. It…it's just work. It's the way it goes." Sharon states flatly, trying to shrug off the worry. "I'm seriously fine. I can hold some damn spackle… damn." She half growl grumbles.

Jessica Jones can't help but smirk, squeezing back at Sharon's fingers as she tugs the other woman back over to the bar, "Sure, you can, but he ain't gonna let you so you might as well come and sit on your ass with me and enjoy the show," she says. She hops up on the bar itself this time, planting her butt on it and sighing as she takes another drag off her smoke.

"Ain't none of us sayin' you can't handle it, Sharon, just shit, a body's gonna be surprised when they see bruises like that. I ain't gonna ask, though, I know you'd have to kill me or somethin'," she says.

Luke Cage says, "Believe it or not, people do still give a damn in this world." Luke says, slapping more spackle onto the wall and filling another hole, trying to smooth it out with the tool in his hand. "You're a tough broad, I give you all the credit for being one hard ass bitch. You know you don't gotta prove yourself to me, though."

He pulls the cigarette out from between his lips and glances over his shoulder, "If you want to help, you can help by just sitting back there and stroking my ego." He winks, taking another puff and sticking the burning cigarette behind his ear, laughing as he turns back to work on the wall some more. "And you can pour me another drink.""

"Now this is just fucking unfair. You're both ganging up against me. You're both completely the worst." Sharon grumbles, in that tone which is affectionate and completely annoyed at the same time. She sighs heavily, but stops pushing at it, just letting Jess lead her back over to the bar. She reaches for another glass, to pour them all some more booze. "And jesus, Jess, use a glass. We're in front of some black god of a man worshiping him like a diety, least you could do is use a glass." Sharon smirks to her, but the moment has passed, things a bit more relaxed, and soon she's finished pouring out Luke's next drink. "…and trust me, if I was trying to prove myself, it wouldn't be through some spackle in a wall. It'd probably be with a spoon, my pinky toe, and someone would end up dead. So… best we just leave the competitions to another day." Now THAT is joking. Probably.

Her eyes trail back to Jessica after a moment, just studying. Considering. There's ideas there, and some worry… And definitely some attraction. She doesn't know a thing to say about it, though, so she raises her glass in a silent toast and knocks back another gulp.

Jessica Jones meets Sharon's eyes for a moment when the woman looks her over, her own gaze steady and perhaps a bit smoldering, brushing her dark hair back behind her ear, "I think he wants us to stroke a lot more than his ego," she grins, red lips curving in a smile. "Who knows, maybe we will."

She shakes her head, "I usually just end up breaking people with my fists. And none of that kung fu crap either, I'm not yelling like a ninny just to kick somebody," she says.

"Yup. Totally the worst." says Luke with a smirk as he continues to work on the wall, taking a moment to puff on again on the cigarette. He looks over his shoulder, "Sucks when you actually have people that might give a fuck, doesn't it?"

He turns back around, laughing at Sharon's comments, "I'm sure Jess' lips have been around much worse than a liquor bottle. Not going to offend me if she ins't going to use a glass. Hell, one less thing I will have to clean later." He turns back around, with a grin. "Now you're just teasing me, Jess. That ain't nice." He flicks some of the spackle in that direction before going back to work.

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