Raveled

Jessica ran out of giggles before long and reached over the center console, resting her hand on Blake's leg. "I'd like to, Blake, I really would, but I think I should get back. I've got some work I need to do before Monday, you know?" She started the engine and was more careful about pulling out of the park, merging smoothly with traffic.

Robin glanced around at the woman with the white eyes and the black-black hair. Her tone changed to polite inquiry and she looked between Equinox and Ouroboros, addressing the statement to both equally. "I don't think I've ever met Phantom, in point of fact." Her gaze swept across the room, taking in the sometimes-gaudy, often-extravagant costumes of the mystics all around. It seemed like herself and Dead Head were the only ones who wouldn't be looked at twice on the street. Careful, Robin, she thought to herself. You're beginning to identify with a ghoul.

Jessica scrambled upright and helped Blake hurriedly gather up their stuff. As they half-ran towards the parking lot, she glanced over her shoulder. The police officer was talking to a group of parents, making soothing gestures with his hands. As the pair of them piled into the truck, she glanced over at Blake. He was sweating and shaking a bit, so Jessica felt bad when she broke out into wild giggles. "Oh, God, Blake," she said, gasping for air. "I, uh, think that might be it. Maybe we should call it a day?"

Jessica's skin felt electric, and somehow two sizes too small as she moved against Blake's grip. Their tongues and lips tangled together, and her hands wandered across his back. For a time she lay there under him, content to feel him on her and let her imagine wander. Her eyes opened when she felt a hard shoe nudging her shoulder, and when her eyes tracked upwards she saw an older man in a blue uniform, with a gun on his hip and a badge on his uniformed chest. Jessica squeaked against Blake's mouth and slapped his back a few times, frantically trying to get his attention.

Jessica opened her mouth in a wordless cry as Blake pushed her over, her heart beating faster seeing him above her like this. Before long their bodies were pressed together and she started making small needy noises, her breath coming in short gasps, her chest moving up and down. One hand braced her against the ground as the other came around to hold Blake's head -- and keep him from going too low.

Robin's expression drained slowly, and her eyes slid off Wesley's and tracked across the wall behind him. The idea of killing a proxy, especially one crafted from a dumb animal, was easy for her to accept because she had done such awful things herself, a life and an age ago. She didn't anymore, but having such experiences made it easier to accept such things. Of course, the last thing she wanted was for Wesley -- or anyone, really -- to discover what she had been like back then. She honestly believed that it was past her, but sometimes it cropped up in the most unexpected places... She snapped her eyes back to his and she smiled, showing her teeth. "Blame it on sleep deprivation," she said. "And now I think it's time to call your girlfriend a cab."

Jessica giggled as she was pulled closer. "Mm. Dumb, yeah, but you're plenty cute. So that makes up for it." She leaned in and kissed him lightly, resting her forehead against his.

Jessica shrugged with her free shoulder. "It wasn't that hard at all," she protested. "The hardest part was programming the suit's systems. See, the innermost layer is a kind of bodystocking, and it's like a single huge integrated circuit -- it lets the suit's systems mesh with my own nervous system, so instead of having to, say, project a menu display directly onto my retina or onto the face plate, it simply puts the image directly into my visual cortex. It lets me basically surround myself with different images if I should choose." She searched Blake's eyes, rubbing at his shoulder and slipping her hand down his arm. "I'm not boring you, am I?"

"Alright," Jessica said quickly. She didn't want alienate Blake like this, didn't want to disrupt such a perfect day. "But I'm not really sure what you could want to know about me. I'm a pretty normal gal." She gave him a shy half-smile and whispered, "Apart from flying around town in my own suit of armor, at least."

Jessica listened to Blake, but she didn't know anything about the different types of paint, or what a 'radical' artist was. Part of his statement penetrated, though, and she reached out to touch his shoulder lightly. "You keep say 'were,'" she said. "Are they... not around anymore? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to," she added hastily.

Jessica stuck her tongue out. "Don't change the subject," she chided. "I'm asking about you. So, are both your parents draw-ers? Do they, uh, paint or sketch? Or do they maybe sculpt?"

Jessica was content to lay there for a bit, snuggled up to Blake. She could heard and feel his heart, and for some reason that was almost as exciting to her as his kisses. Just knowing that he was so stirred by her presence was amazing to her, and she just lay there for a bit, listening to him. After awhile though, the position grew uncomfortable and she repositioned herself, lying face-to-face with him. "So," she said, staring into his eyes from only an inch or so away, "you're really good at drawing. I mean, much better than I could ever do. Have you been doing it long?"

Jessica heart beat faster and she reached out to stroke Blake's hair. "I... I mean, with you... You're..." She stuttered for a moment before she just sighed and leaned in, kissing Blake softly. "I'm really glad I met you, Blake." She moved in to be close to him, kissing his cheek this time.

Jessica reached out a hand to steady the drawing and pull the notebook closer. She mouth opened slightly in amazement as she looked at the woman on the page. She usually thought of herself as being too tall and too thin, all awkward legs and flailing arms whenever she tried to do something, but the young woman here was... beautiful. her limbs were clean and graceful even in repose, her smile was intriguing, and her hair fell with just a hint of wave to it. "Wow," Jess breathed. "Is... is this really how you see me?" She swallowed hard. It was kind of intimidating, to know someone thought she looked like... that.

Jessica half-smiled, watching the end of his pencil move in wide, wild circles. She tried to imagine what the picture would look like, but all she could bring to mind was what she saw in the mirror every morning; she couldn't imagine why anyone would want to capture that on paper. "I like watching you draw," she said. "You're so serious, and I like seeing this side of you. Not that you're always so flippant and, uh, whatever," she added lamely, "but I like seeing what you're passionate about. What you really enjoy." She winced as she listened to her own words. "Are you drawing me with my foot in my mouth? Because that's what I feel like."

Jessica felt herself blush at Blake's comment, her own heart beating faster for a moment. She laid back on the ground, face turned to watch him. It was interesting to see him so focused on something, so intent on his drawing. It was a side of him she hadn't really seen before, but she wanted to see more of it. She wanted to see all of Blake's faces, really. "Can you talk while you write," she said, moving her legs against each other absently, "or do you need to concentrate?"

Jessica smiled at him and followed him back to the blanket. She lay down and stretched luxuriantly, wiggling her toes and and sighing in pleasure. After a moment she propped herself up on her elbows and looked over at Blake. "Well," she teased. "Aren't I good enough to capture on paper?" She posed dramatically for a moment, hand to her forehead and head tossed back.

Robin reached out and took Wesley's hand, just holding it for a moment. When he did respond she brought his hand up to her face, letting him cup her cheek and smiling at him. "Wesley. I don't think you're cruel man. I think you're a good person, but I think you use your head and maybe you should use your heart a bit more." She kissed the palm of his hand and let it drop back to the table. "Do you understand? You need to think about your actions a bit more before you do them, not after."

Jessica jumped slightly when Blake's hit cracked the branch in two. It fell with a crash and she waded into the leaves and branches, batting them aside as she reached down. She stood with the Frisbee in hand and raised it above her hand, waving to Blake. Once she was free, she hugged Blake and gave him a peck on the cheek. "That was a good hit," she said. "I didn't think it would fall like that!"

Jessica squeezed the ball in her hand, turning it over and over and looking up at the Frisbee. It was caught just where two branches split. Maybe if she just threw it up and jostled? The base of the branch would be a bigger target... She set her feet and threw a slow lob, striking the branch she was aiming at a few inches short of where it came off the tree. It rocked a few times, and for a second it almost looked like the disc would fall, but when the branch stopped swaying and the Frisbee hadn't moved. Jessica swore softly and turned to Blake. "You wanna take the last shot," she asked.

Robin rubbed at her face. None of this made sense, but her inclination was to dig down until it did. "Who exactly was Lynn's landlord? Why did he want her head? Why couldn't you just buy her way out the lease?" This story of needing to kill someone to get out of a land lease was absurd on the surface, but she was willing to give Wesley the benefit of the doubt... for now.

The second and third floors were clear, but Robin couldn’t force herself to go any higher. She stood in the stairwell, staring up at the next landing, and for the life of her she wasn't able to take the step. She stood there, shivering slightly and sweating openly, for several minutes. Then she turned abruptly and went back in the third floor corridor, into one of the disused and empty rooms. She say down in a corner, the thick, ensorcelled leather of her longcoat protecting her against bare nails and bits of glass. She put her face in her hands and sobbed quietly for a time, angry at herself that she couldn't surmount such a simple obstacle, that she was letting her fear get the better of her. For a long time she sat there, crying in anger and frustration. All she could think was her target was right there, maybe right above her head, and but for a stupid dream this evil, twisted necromancer would get away. When her tears finally dried, Robin felt drained and tired, but also curiously cleansed and unfettered. Her anxieties and harsh emotions had drained out with her tears, leaving her mind focused. The answer to her problem was as obvious as if it was written across the opposite wall in neon letters four feet high. She folded her legs into a full-lotus position, balancing her staff across her knees. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, concentrating on the pneumatic motion of her lungs and chest and diaphragm. In a very short span of time she had sunk into a meditative trance. One she was ready, she stretched in a way that had no physical analogue, and stood in a manner that didn't involve her legs. Her body was still sitting there, but to those with the proper sight she was also standing over her body, flexing her hands and looking around herself. Now this, she could do.

Jessica dropped her hands to her sides, glancing around. What did they have? The picnic basket, the remnants of their sandwiches, their soda cans (which were too light), Blake's duffel. Jessica snatched at Blake's arm. "Didn't you say you brought a baseball? Can you see if you can knock it out of the tree?"

Jessica jogged over, breathing a little heavily as she joined Blake by the tree. She looked up at the Frisbee in the tree, shaking her head slightly. "I'm sorry, Blake," she said. "My foot just... slipped. I don't know what happened." She looked at the tree and shook her head. There were a few low branches, but nothing she wanted to try and rest her weight on. "Um. I dunno. Maybe I can give you a boost up?" She didn't think too much of the idea; neither she or Blake were well-built in their 'civilian' identities.

Jessica watched Blake retrieve the Frisbee, taking pleasure just in seeing her boyfriend stretch and move. As he jogged off she stood and stretched a bit, then moved away from the basket and the blanket. The first few passes weren't too out of the ordinary. Then, as Jessica went to toss the disc, her foot slipped on something -- a piece of garbage or a patch of damp -- and the Frisbee went flying off in entirely the wrong direction. She swore under her breath, watching it fly and hoping it wasn't about to hit someone.