Hotel, Moscow, Very Late Tuesday, 1902

[bitten_notshy]

The interviews in Dyachenko's office had been slow, uphill work at first, even with Starkad helping as he could. They'd ruled out almost everyone in Starkad's old court for one reason or another before moving on to look at the people the wampyr had known but rejected.

It was the same story: This one had left town. That one had a perfect alibi. And so on.

After a few fruitless hours, Jack started in his seat at a sudden mental leap. "It's not about the vampires," he realized as he massaged his temples. "It's about Irina. Her lovers, her patrons, her friends. And the second murder only happened when we came back to Moscow and started asking about her. Someone must have thought she would be slipping away."

Emma nodded, easily picking up the train of thought as she turned to the girl. "Who wants you and cannot have you, Irina? And has for the last five years?"

Irina's eyes scrunched shut as she shook her head, obviously thinking hard about the question.

"If it helps," Dyachenko added, "we know it was someone left-handed. And someone who could make a good pass at forging Lesya's hand -- her employees got a message 'from' her after she died."

Something seemed to click into place at that. "Well," Irina said hesitantly, "I know a forger."

****

Jack and Emma almost did not follow along with the police as they went after Dmitri Sergeyevich, a professional forger. He wanted to be a painter, and failed at anything beyond copying; he'd also wanted to join Starkad's court and Irina's bed, and had been denied at those turns as well. And now he could add murderer to his list of failures.

They went, in the end, because Irina asked for the support, and Jack could not say no.

It was worth it. If they hadn't, Jack wouldn't have seen Starkad lift Dmitri by his throat to coolly inform him that he was nothing before stepping away, as if the slight effort to kill him would be wasted.

The scene replayed in Jack's head as they got back to the hotel. Soon, as soon as Sebastien was here, he'd go back in the 21st century with Emma. Tomorrow was for those goodbyes. Tonight he just wanted to rest.

[OOC: Loosely based on The White City. NFB. For SP with icecoldfrost and possibly one other. And this is the very end of Jack's canon for now yay!]

Comments

[bitten_notshy]

"I'm too tired for hedonism," Jack grumbled. He was sitting on the bed in an undershirt and pants, boots mercifully off. "I want to eat about a pound of steak and sleep a thousand hours or so. You can go be a Bohemian if you like."

[icecoldfrost]

"Now I want a pound of steak," she complained, making a face at him over her shoulder. "I could devour my weight in hot food, and still be able to eat more, I think."

"As tempting as Bohemia sounds about now, I am not getting back in that corset."

[bitten_notshy]

"Irina doesn't wear one," Jack pointed out. "You could manage without."

Then, out of curiosity: "How bad is a corset? Really."

[icecoldfrost]

"Irina is a godless Russian artist, and I am a lady," Emma informed him. "They're bad enough, and I would offer to lace you into mine, but you lack the chest to make the reenactment accurate."

[bitten_notshy]

Jack snorted. "My innards thank you. Do you think they'd bring up the steak if I went down to the lobby and asked nicely?"

He didn't want to move.

[icecoldfrost]

"They might," she mused, getting up from her perch to wander towards him. "How much do we have left in our bribery petty cash?"

[bitten_notshy]

"Dyachenko didn't take the money," Jack answered. "We have a few hundred rubles."

He held out his hands lightly to help her onto the bed -- not that she needed it, but touching anyone felt good.

[icecoldfrost]

"An honest policeman. Who'd have imagined?" she said. There was a split-second of hesitation before she took his hands, but her grip was firm and she settled next to him comfortably, without reservation. She wanted contact too, and if she kept fretting about him pulling stitches doing simple things like offering her a hand, he was going to get cross.

"Well, you'll need to put on a shirt, darling, and possibly your boots if you're going downstairs," she pointed out. "I wouldn't walk around barefoot."

"But if giving them fifty or a hundred of the rubles gains us food delivered to the room, I am all for it." Emma rubbed at her eyes wearily. "I simply cannot fathom the dining room this evening."

[bitten_notshy]

"Nor can I. I'll go talk to them," Jack said, resting his head against her for a moment before he started rummaging around for his shirt.

"I swear, I may be going back to 2012 half for telephones."

[icecoldfrost]

"Telephone, electricity, and pants," Emma sighed wistfully. "And, oh god, soda."

[bitten_notshy]

"Email," Jack said longingly. "Gay rights. Women's rights. Supernatural rights in my world, even if there's still ground to cover. Some of the things they're fighting for here became real, even if some will have crumbled."

He jerked his shirt around his limbs and stood. "Wait. I'll be back in a few minutes."

[icecoldfrost]

<<Kosher food that's easy to find!>> Emma called back telepathically, giggling slightly from sheer exhaustion.

She was tempted to get comfortable on Jack's bed, out of habit - although that would send mixed signals - but instead got up and padded into their little shared living space that separated the two bedrooms to put a few more bits of wood on the fire. If Jack was going through the trouble of going down to fetch food, she'd at least manage to clear a space for them to eat it.

[bitten_notshy]

It took a good quarter hour, but eventually Jack fumbled the door open with one hand. His other balanced a platter of cold sliced roast, black bread, and a salad, with a small bottle of vodka and two glasses at the edge.

"The kitchen is closed already, but they were willing to give us this," he said, and put the platter on the table before going to stand by the fire. ".... oh. This does make it more homey."

[icecoldfrost]

"I love the fact this country is convinced that vodka is a perfectly normal drink for any time of day," Emma laughed, glancing at his prize. "Think they could get it on the menu at my college cafeteria?"

[bitten_notshy]

"Yes, but you'd have to be 21 to get it," Jack said, and tilted the bottle to pour an inch or so of the liquid into each glass. "... I wish I could go back to school with you, by the way. I'd love to see how you explain what you did on your winter break."

[icecoldfrost]

"No one cares what I did," Emma said with a shrug, clearing the last of their research on Irina's case off the little table. "My roommate never re-appeared, I don't have a new one yet, and I don't exactly have any friends."

[bitten_notshy]

Jack was silent for a long moment as he pulled out a chair for Emma and took the seat opposite it, then ventured:

"And you're still wed to the idea of going back."

He was almost certain he knew her answer, but he was going to check. Again.

[icecoldfrost]

"I've invested too much at this point to just give up," Emma answered, reaching for the bread. "Besides-" and she gave a small shrug, "Where else would I go? Your world? Glacia?" Emma shook her head and dug in. "I'd never fit in, not really."

[bitten_notshy]

She could make it easier on herself, Jack thought. (If he knew anything, it was how to blend. He believed Emma would have no problems anywhere if she put effort into it. But then, wanting to -- which she didn't -- was as essential a piece of it as anything about customs and manners, if not more.)

"First -- anytime you want to stay with me, you're welcome," he said instead, and started assembling a sandwich.

"But I understand what you mean about not wanting to give up something you've invested time in. Hell, if I wasn't sure I'd end up getting killed if I stayed I wouldn't be leaving Moscow now."

[icecoldfrost]

"In my world, I at least have a chance for equal rights and protections, eventually," Emma said, popping some of the meat right into her mouth. << Here? I'd be constantly at risk, for the rest of my life. Tell me, what would your armies do, now, in 1902, if they found out there was a girl who could kill someone with her brain, and leave no traces?>>

"Glacia?" she continued after swallowing. "I could live there, but I would forever be lesser, even if everyone is kind enough not to say so. And I don't do 'lesser.'"

[bitten_notshy]

Jack made a face. "I'd get into an argument every single day in Glacia," he said. "And I don't think I'm the right kind of man for that world even if you set the question of powers aside."

He had new strength, yes, but he wasn't meant to be a physical fighter. Nor was he terribly good at the kind of protecting men in Kaeleer did from the cradle.

He shrugged. "If you were exposed in 1902, you'd be a curiosity at best. But there's no reason anyone would know, and I'm not staying in 1902 no matter what Sebastien does."

[icecoldfrost]

"A few weeks of a Court and Protocol would drive us both batty," Emma agreed, reaching for her vodka. "But not everything is as remote as the Keep or villages, I don't think. We'd probably do fine in an actual city."

Civilization, they needs.

"So you're thinking you'll go back to 2012? Do you think you'll re-apply to college?"

[bitten_notshy]

"A landen city without protocol might not be too horrible," Jack acknowledged, and then took rather too large a bite of meat and bread.

He nodded as he chewed and swallowed.

Once his mouth was empty again, he added, "Eventually. The theory about supernatural law has taken on a bit of personal urgency -- if I can get through the next few months."

Without going mad, or killing himself, or killing anyone else, he meant.

[icecoldfrost]

"Don't be morbid, Jack," Emma scolded, getting half out of her chair to lean over the table and catch his cheek with the palm of one hand. "You are not going to go mad. You'd never let yourself hurt anyone."

"We aren't going to leave you alone, darling, we'll do whatever needs to be done. Have some faith in your friends."

[wantstoforget.livejournal.com]

"You won't be alone," a voice from the doorway said, as Sebastien again thanked the forces above that he didn't need to be invited in to hotel rooms.

The truth was, he liked dramatic entrances.

"And have some faith in yourself, while you're at it," he added, stripping off coat and gloves and going to stand by the fire. "You will do well."