let me hear your voice tonight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alexseanchai) wrote2013-05-09 12:35 am
alexseanchai) wrote2013-05-09 12:35 am
Entry tags:
Creature Feature
Title: Creature Feature
Rating: R
Summary: A Dracula attack brought the Harvelle sisters to town. The cute bartender keeps Jo there a while. Sequel to Talitha Rising, written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
queer_fest.
Pairings: Jo/Jamie.
Warnings: Discussion of rape.
Word Count: 1050
"You're a fed?" Jamie asks, surprised. "Wow, you don't come on like a fed. Seriously?"
Jo replays their brief interactions, then realizes: that might have come out like flirting. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me," she says. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."
Jamie shakes her head. "No worries. You wanted to talk to Ed?"
Fucking weird case they've got here. Fucking weird. Clearly not the Harvelles' kind of thing, though, so when Jo and Jess return to the bar, Jo shrugs off her jacket and unbuttons the top button of her blouse.
"You're not seriously going to pick someone up now, are you?" Jess asks.
Jo shrugs. "Look at me, Jess. I had an extensive collection of scars when I went downstairs. Now it's like none of them ever happened. What do you think that means for my hymen?"
Jess stares. "You are not sitting there and telling me you buy the hymen equals virginity myth."
Jo flaps a hand. "Details."
"The whole concept of virginity is bullshit anyway," Jess continues. "It's like attaching earthshattering significance to the first time one rides a bike."
"I recall you being overwhelmed with delight the first time you rode a bike," Jo points out.
Jess snorts. "Details."
Jo laughs. She turns and scans the bar clientele for someone who looks attractive and unattached, and lights on Jamie at the bar.
Wait. Jamie?
Jo's never had sex with another woman before. Never, as far as she can recall, so much as been attracted to another woman.
Anael's face floats into her mind.
...that doesn't count. Angels are meant to be inhumanly beautiful.
Never before hell, anyway.
What happened to her in hell?
—And with that thought, she knows. At least one thing.
"Speaking of hell," Jo says in an undertone, "is it true that being raped by a man can make one a lesbian?"
Jess flinches. "No," she says, strangled. "No, it's not. I need to—" She leaves without saying what she needs to.
"Damn it fuck," Jo says.
"Is everything all right?" asks Jamie, bringing the ordered two steins of beer.
"No, not really," Jo says honestly. "Nothing wrong with here, or you, or I'm sure with this," she says, taking one of the beers. "I seem to have upset my partner, though. No, leave it," Jo says when Jamie moves to take the second beer away. "I'll probably need it to figure out what I said."
"Well, if there's anything else you need, you just let me know," says Jamie. "Anything." She winks.
Jo smiles back, weakly, and raises her beer to toast Jamie. Jamie's smile begins to disappear, and she moves on to another aspect of her job.
Neither Jo nor Jess is a rape survivor—Jess isn't a rape survivor, Jo isn't used to thinking of herself as one—and Jess has been threatened with rape before and generally reacted by stomping the threatener into the mud. And neither Jo nor Jess thinks there's anything wrong with being a lesbian; Jess is bisexual and Jo has known it for years. Why would Jess react so strongly to any part of what Jo said?
What happened to Jess while Jo was in hell?
That isn't a productive line of thought without Jess around to ask, and if Jess needed Jo with her, Jess would have stayed sitting.
What—what else—happened to Jo?
Jo makes her not-at-all-drunk way through the tourists, stopping to wave and wink at Jamie, outside to the car. Jess is sitting in the driver's seat, key in the ignition so the radio plays; for some reason she's on the local classic rock station.
"I take it one of the demons raped you," Jess says, voice flat, once Jo's slid into the passenger seat.
"Probably more than one, and more than once, and in several painful ways," Jo says airily. "I don't remember. I don't want to remember. On a more cheerful note: suddenly, lesbians! Why?"
"Please don't tell me you're afraid you came back wrong," Jess says.
"I came back different," says Jo. "Isn't that cause for concern?"
Jess sighs. "I suppose." She starts the car.
"I heard about Rick Deacon," says Jamie when she comes by with the beers. "Do you think it's connected to Marissa Wright?"
"We can't talk about an ongoing investigation," Jo says. "Sorry. It's definitely our kind of weird, though."
"Well, beers are on me," says Jamie. She hesitates a moment. "And just so you know, I get off at midnight tonight."
Jo grins. "I'll see you then."
(Sex with women can't be that different from sex with men, can it?)
"Fuck!" Jo exclaims when Dracula comes round the corner.
"You should not use such language in the presence of my bride!" thunders Dracula. Jo flicks a glance sideways at Jamie, who looks scared but not witless; Jo lunges at Dracula. "Lucy, what are you doing?" Dracula demands, and as the only Lucy Jo knows of who's in town isn't here...
Jamie carries pepper spray in her purse. Jo approves. Not least because it works on whatever Dracula is.
"So, this is what you do?" Jamie asks. "You and your partner, you tramp across the country on your own dime until you find some horrible nightmare to fight?"
"She's my sister," Jo admits, since she's already copped to not being FBI. "But yeah, pretty much."
"Wow," says Jamie. "That must suck. I mean, you're giving up your life for this terrible...I don't know, responsibility."
Jo shrugs. "This is what I always wanted. It's what my father did, and his parents before him. And yeah, it does kind of suck—Jess has always thought so, she hates the life for getting Dad killed. And these past few years I was getting to agree with her. But then..." Jo pauses, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Somebody saved my life, and that somebody told me she'd done it because God commanded it. Because he has work for me." Jo shrugs. "I think this is it."
"Mission from God, huh?" Jamie asks. "So does that make you like a nun or something?" She leans in. "You know, celibate?"
"Full disclosure, I'm a virgin with women," Jo says.
Jamie grins. "That's not a problem."
Rating: R
Summary: A Dracula attack brought the Harvelle sisters to town. The cute bartender keeps Jo there a while. Sequel to Talitha Rising, written for
queer_fest.Pairings: Jo/Jamie.
Warnings: Discussion of rape.
Word Count: 1050
"You're a fed?" Jamie asks, surprised. "Wow, you don't come on like a fed. Seriously?"
Jo replays their brief interactions, then realizes: that might have come out like flirting. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me," she says. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."
Jamie shakes her head. "No worries. You wanted to talk to Ed?"
Fucking weird case they've got here. Fucking weird. Clearly not the Harvelles' kind of thing, though, so when Jo and Jess return to the bar, Jo shrugs off her jacket and unbuttons the top button of her blouse.
"You're not seriously going to pick someone up now, are you?" Jess asks.
Jo shrugs. "Look at me, Jess. I had an extensive collection of scars when I went downstairs. Now it's like none of them ever happened. What do you think that means for my hymen?"
Jess stares. "You are not sitting there and telling me you buy the hymen equals virginity myth."
Jo flaps a hand. "Details."
"The whole concept of virginity is bullshit anyway," Jess continues. "It's like attaching earthshattering significance to the first time one rides a bike."
"I recall you being overwhelmed with delight the first time you rode a bike," Jo points out.
Jess snorts. "Details."
Jo laughs. She turns and scans the bar clientele for someone who looks attractive and unattached, and lights on Jamie at the bar.
Wait. Jamie?
Jo's never had sex with another woman before. Never, as far as she can recall, so much as been attracted to another woman.
Anael's face floats into her mind.
...that doesn't count. Angels are meant to be inhumanly beautiful.
Never before hell, anyway.
What happened to her in hell?
—And with that thought, she knows. At least one thing.
"Speaking of hell," Jo says in an undertone, "is it true that being raped by a man can make one a lesbian?"
Jess flinches. "No," she says, strangled. "No, it's not. I need to—" She leaves without saying what she needs to.
"Damn it fuck," Jo says.
"Is everything all right?" asks Jamie, bringing the ordered two steins of beer.
"No, not really," Jo says honestly. "Nothing wrong with here, or you, or I'm sure with this," she says, taking one of the beers. "I seem to have upset my partner, though. No, leave it," Jo says when Jamie moves to take the second beer away. "I'll probably need it to figure out what I said."
"Well, if there's anything else you need, you just let me know," says Jamie. "Anything." She winks.
Jo smiles back, weakly, and raises her beer to toast Jamie. Jamie's smile begins to disappear, and she moves on to another aspect of her job.
Neither Jo nor Jess is a rape survivor—Jess isn't a rape survivor, Jo isn't used to thinking of herself as one—and Jess has been threatened with rape before and generally reacted by stomping the threatener into the mud. And neither Jo nor Jess thinks there's anything wrong with being a lesbian; Jess is bisexual and Jo has known it for years. Why would Jess react so strongly to any part of what Jo said?
What happened to Jess while Jo was in hell?
That isn't a productive line of thought without Jess around to ask, and if Jess needed Jo with her, Jess would have stayed sitting.
What—what else—happened to Jo?
Jo makes her not-at-all-drunk way through the tourists, stopping to wave and wink at Jamie, outside to the car. Jess is sitting in the driver's seat, key in the ignition so the radio plays; for some reason she's on the local classic rock station.
"I take it one of the demons raped you," Jess says, voice flat, once Jo's slid into the passenger seat.
"Probably more than one, and more than once, and in several painful ways," Jo says airily. "I don't remember. I don't want to remember. On a more cheerful note: suddenly, lesbians! Why?"
"Please don't tell me you're afraid you came back wrong," Jess says.
"I came back different," says Jo. "Isn't that cause for concern?"
Jess sighs. "I suppose." She starts the car.
"I heard about Rick Deacon," says Jamie when she comes by with the beers. "Do you think it's connected to Marissa Wright?"
"We can't talk about an ongoing investigation," Jo says. "Sorry. It's definitely our kind of weird, though."
"Well, beers are on me," says Jamie. She hesitates a moment. "And just so you know, I get off at midnight tonight."
Jo grins. "I'll see you then."
(Sex with women can't be that different from sex with men, can it?)
"Fuck!" Jo exclaims when Dracula comes round the corner.
"You should not use such language in the presence of my bride!" thunders Dracula. Jo flicks a glance sideways at Jamie, who looks scared but not witless; Jo lunges at Dracula. "Lucy, what are you doing?" Dracula demands, and as the only Lucy Jo knows of who's in town isn't here...
Jamie carries pepper spray in her purse. Jo approves. Not least because it works on whatever Dracula is.
"So, this is what you do?" Jamie asks. "You and your partner, you tramp across the country on your own dime until you find some horrible nightmare to fight?"
"She's my sister," Jo admits, since she's already copped to not being FBI. "But yeah, pretty much."
"Wow," says Jamie. "That must suck. I mean, you're giving up your life for this terrible...I don't know, responsibility."
Jo shrugs. "This is what I always wanted. It's what my father did, and his parents before him. And yeah, it does kind of suck—Jess has always thought so, she hates the life for getting Dad killed. And these past few years I was getting to agree with her. But then..." Jo pauses, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Somebody saved my life, and that somebody told me she'd done it because God commanded it. Because he has work for me." Jo shrugs. "I think this is it."
"Mission from God, huh?" Jamie asks. "So does that make you like a nun or something?" She leans in. "You know, celibate?"
"Full disclosure, I'm a virgin with women," Jo says.
Jamie grins. "That's not a problem."