2019-09-03 - Windswept Wingman

Well no shots were fired, and no members of Jersey Shore got injured. There always has to be a downside to good news and the evening at the Firefly Club proved no exception.

Sparrow consumed half her body weight in shots, which given her size can maybe be done in five minutes, but either way Joey wasn't going to make her figure out getting home. He is, truthfully, a lot of things but on the least questionable end is a guy that likes to see his pals remain in as few pieces as possible. It's also not escaped him that there's a fucking serial killer loose in the city and whoever that is is not on Felix's bankroll which means: Potential Problems(tm).

God damn he hates those.

So not on the Harley Iron 883, he's giving Sparrow a ride across town since he's got to pass her house to get to his.

...okay and because he gives enough of a shit to bother instead of abandoning her to work out her own shit. "She was cool. Hang onto those digits in case some shit comes up. Could be fun." Says he of Sparrow's scouting mission.

No, no, see, Sparrow is the one helping Joey out here. Sure, he gave the okay and the all clear at the club, but the guy was clearly still a bit jumpy from all the douchenozzles hanging about. She was dancing with a rather attractive stranger when she decided to play chaperone and give the big guy an easy exit. Always looks better leaving the club on the arm of a cute girl, after all.

Not that this hasn't turned out to be absolutely fantastic for her as she rides with her arms wrapped tight about the boxer and the wind rustling her way too red hair where it peeks out from under the borrowed helmet. With her head pressed to Joey's shoulder, it's not too difficult to hear her over the wind and passing traffic. "Aww, you know I got you, boo!" She gives him a little squeeze. "Word to the wise? If you're gonna serenade her? Sing about sex, not love. She's not all that into the mushy shit."

Oh Riiiiiiight! Yeah he was rescues by the damsel in dis' fine ass dress.

Is not riding like a bat out of hell. There's no reason and he just enjoys the damn ride. "I am entirely safe from the fog of Axe body spray. My hero." then the snort of amusement. "Girl you're the only one in my rear view mirror right now." He pauses and reasons, " like legit we are the only motherfuckers on this road." The light flips yellow and one boot goes down to stop. There's a pause and then confusion. "I don't serenade, and I don't do love. You want mush? Jaim can do mush. I don't mush." He pauses and one eyebrow goes up with the green light and they're off again. "You want indecent destruction of public property? I'm your guy."

Sparrow presses a kiss to the back of Joey's shoulder when he calls her hero, a reward for the concession. It's hard to see her brows waggle with the helmet on, while the bike is moving, but it totally happens, a playful answer to what sounds, at first, like flirtation. Her hold loosens for a moment while they stop, the momentary stillness making it easy to catch when she mutters, "I'm counting on it," in regards to Jaime and mushiness. Though that might be specifically in the context of serenades. Who knows. When Joey adjusts position, she holds tight again, so very happy to be going fast down this empty road. "I can get behind that!" she says of vandalism, probably lying. "Start a small riot every now and then!" She lets her eyes drift shut, trusting in Joey entirely as she just feels the movement, the motor, the wind. The tequila that's got her nicely buzzed. "I got her number!"

Joey grins faintly. He ain't going to fucking say no. He also takes it just for what it is. "He's good for that kinda creative shit." Because Jaime motivated is an insanely creative soul in ways Joey's just never manifest. "Small riot or get banned from parking garages." There's no discerning if he's serious or not but there's no real reason to lie either. Eyebrow arches with enthused interest, "Yeah I kina didn't miss that one. Lil pissed at Jersey, but yeah that's bad ass. Better call her."

"Yeah, maybe," Sparrow offers not quite as nonchalantly as she'd like. She's almost certainly gonna call her. "Pretty sure she was way more into you than me, though." She makes sure to turn a look to the rearview mirror as she croons, "Can't say I blame her," flirtatiously. That might be the tequila talking. Eyes widening, she says, "But I've got a really important question for you." A few seconds slip past without follow-up, her sense of timing a little sluggish as she enjoys the feeling of the world zooming by. "How do you get banned from a parking garage?"

Joey grins and hides no shame, "Fuck it lemme steal it. Shit, I'll call her." He has nothing to lose on that one. Something about riding in summer with that salt in the air off the ocean gives the world its own feel that one cannot find too far inland. Warm breeze cooling off as they ride an even 50 across town wide way around to avoid the construction of the rebuilding of the downtown. "How you get banned? Eeeeh it sort of involves getting your fuck on with the city council woman's daughter upright on the second floor and setting off a car alarm." He smirks with a snort, "She was piiiiiissed. Didn't know Lana took her car to begin with. Funny tho."

"Nope." Sparrow chirps defiantly. "No risk, no reward, cutie." Tilting a little closer over his shoulder as best she can without risking overthrowing his balance, she adds, "But I promise I'll call, k?" She sinks in comfortably against Joey, cheek to his shoulder as she watches the world go past, as she listens to his story. It's a fucking gorgeous night, and this is a damned near magical way to experience. Her laughter carries through the night as those details come. "Think I like Lana," she calls over his shoulder. "Slow-playing the trouble. Quiet kinda riot."

Joey laughs enjoying the trip for what it is nearing the house because the city ain't that magnamously huge. "So October 1st, I think we're def doin that block party for our birthday. Big 3-0. Gotta do something cool for it. Bring whoever you want. More the merrier. Must be legal... well okay must be 18 and older." yeah specificity might really help there. "Good excuse to call Kai. I told Nicole I'd text her with the deets on it. Shit bring the whole damn house. We don't care."

"Oh, baby, you're so old!" Sparrow teases Joey as he reveals his age, though she almost certainly has some inkling from living around here her whole life. Not to mention conversations with his twin. As they get nearer to her house--rather big and lovely with a neatly kept lawn and only one or two lights on inside at this hour--she points, though he might recognize her car in the drive. Seems like maybe Nicole had been the one to get them to the club in the first place. "I'm not waiting until closer to October to call Kai," she promises. "But I'll mention it, yeah. And bring all my friends. And you'll yell at us to get off your lawn like the old man you are." She presses another light kiss to his shoulder, maybe just to soften all that teasing.

Joey dimples a wide grin, "Baby we ain't done yet." That hubris can go all day! They pull up and he throws the kickstand down and leans into the handlebars for a moment bearing her weight on his back without complaint. Finally he lets go with one hand and pats her arm. "Shit, you all staying here? Your house competing with mine for overall occupants?" Not that his cousins haven't tried to move away for a while. Well some of them. They'll be back. They always do in the end. "Well at least she got home in one piece. How the hell you meet her anyways?"

Sparrow leans right on into Joey when he sinks forward, letting some of the adrenaline from the ride wear off while she tries not to wonder too much about how wobbly she might be when her feet hit the street. "Nice, ain't it?" She gives him a squeeze before she lets go, silent gratitude for his own heroics, getting her own safely, before she slips down with minimal listing. Her hair goes a little bit wild when she pulls off the helmet, as if those trapped tresses crave some semblance of the windswept freedom that the ends of her hair experienced. Fingers push through that neon red mess as she explains, "She made this magic," referring to that exceptional color. "Seemed like someone who could use my particular brand of magic in return." Not that she says what that is. Instead, she tips her head toward the house. "Welcome to stay a bit. Sit out and watch the stars or whatever."

Joey takes the helmet from her and secures it on the back of his bike for now. he considers looking at his phone. "Shit I open in a couple hours. I might as well stay up. Why the fuck not." She's good company and comes with credentials and he really had no place immediately pressing he needed to be for two hours and fifteen minutes. hell, why the fuck not indeed. pulling the keys and dropping them in his pocket the comment about magic amuses a slight grin into life, "She's Rainbow Brite or I miss a memo?" Plod of boots carries him forward in an easy plod. Eyebrow lift, "Yeah I saw your magic. You took my table apart. I won't knock it."

Sparrow starts toward the house when Joey accepts, her steps a bit steadier than they'd been when they left the club. Amazing what some mild excitement and a little night air can do. Her laughter, loud as it is, seems out of place in this nice neighborhood so late at night. Let's hope no one cares. "Pretty much!" she agrees, even if that hadn't been even remotely close to the magic she meant. "Girl could use some good screwing, and I am happy to facilitate." Inside, the places is quiet, roommates either out or out cold. Or just upstairs and unconcerned with Sparrow's return home. She leads Joey back into the kitchen, where there are actual places to sit, and goes to the fridge to see what kind of leftover snacks there might be to munch on. "How about we make a trade. I tell you everything you could wanna know about Nicole, and you tell me about your brother so's I know what to get him for his birthday."

Joey follows in and if it's weird to talk about someone while they are in the house, somewhere or may possibly walk the hell on in he doesn't show it. A trade is a trade is a trade. He finds a place and parks his ass inviting himself to wherever. "I mean I'm sure she'll tell people what she wants them to know, but you ain't getting something for nothing. I'm too broke ass to run a charity." Not that he' not keeping himself fed and the gym running, but this is Elm Street and people live here for one reason only. The nod follows eyebrow arching an eyebrow, "A'ight, you got a deal. For one? Yeah I think you should bring the live entertainment."

"There is more to a person than what they want other people to know," Sparrow chirps sagaciously from her perch in front of the fridge. Ooh! Cream puffs! Hope Corey wasn't saving these for anything special. She snags the tupperware container, grabs a couple of beers--a berliner weiss, kinda light and sour--and joins Joey at the table. Clearly, she lives a good life. "You get that he's one third of my live entertainment package, right? I can't bring the band if it means making him play on his birthday, and there's not a whole lot of broad cultural appreciation for the stand-alone drum solo, so..." The pitch of her eyebrows seems an invitation. She's open to suggestions. "Nicole's got a mysterious past. Disappeared for years and then came back all nice and quiet. Keeps to herself. I am sure something shady happened while she was away. Wouldn't be surprised if she killed a man and got away with it." She plucks up a cream puff and pops it into her mouth. Passion fruit!

Joey scoffs at the lack of love for the drum solo, "Heathens. All of em. Clearly I'm hearing I need better friends." He does take the beer though with a quiet, "Thanks." And it might not be twist off, but it is now as he palms the bottle and pops the cap off. "I'm well away of your package Sparrow." He winks to her in easy good humor and takes a drink. "I'm tellin you, bring em. He's my fuckin twin. I literally know himas well as myself. When he wants to enjoy himself thaaaat's what he does. he loves sharing that shit. Sides, he's not done this in a fuckin time and he's really enjoying the hell out of it." There's a pause with a slight roll of his eyes back to her, "And he ain't fuckin subtle. Give the peacock something to do and flash his little birdie gang colors all over that amp."

Then there's the stories about Nicole getting away with literal murder. The smile turns to a dimpled half-grin making him look convincingly passable for Jaime in that respect. "Ah yeah? Shit that's impressive. Sounds like my kinda woman. Can't judge me then. What do you think? Steal a car? Overthrow a cult and the whole bit? Jaime said she's pretty good with those scissors."

Sparrow tips a nod to Joey that reads 'Right?' for his categorization of people who don't dig drum solos. Her eyes go wide when he talks about her package, feigned indignation and entirely made-up modesty which melts away too quickly as she points out, "Trust me, honey. You haven't," with a wink of her own. She crosses her legs as she sits back, nudging her beer his way to let him open that one, too. Wanna show off, Mr. Muscles? She's all too glad to watch. The way he talks about Jaime's passion for playing has her smiling a little softer, one hand lifted in surrender as she murmurs, "Alright, alright. I'll bring my kit. And the bassist. Even if I'm not entirely convinced this isn't for your own entertainment."

Another cream puff in hand, pinched between finger and thumb, she wobbles her hand as she guesses, "Stolen car," to start. "Crashed a fancy hotel to make use of their heated swimming pool in the middle of the night. Probably got caught on camera doing something filthy. Definitely has a bit of a wild streak in her that she's trying hard to keep quiet. Got her in trouble, and now she needs some handsome devil like you to coax her back out of her shell." The little grin that follows suggests she's pleased with her own read. Sure, some of that was definitely bullshit, but it got somewhere sensible in the end. "So, what else? Besides music and making out."

Joey counters with passive amusement, "Well whose fault is that? Not mine." He takes her beer, palms the cap and makes a twist off of that one too without cutting his damn hand up. Gently it's set back down. Sometimes it's hard to focus when he can be kinda charming. That easy, if not seldom seen smile, and the playful wink when he says, "I think he just likes spending the time with you." Oh shit was she trying to watch for the trick he's not paying attention to or is it that because he's utterly fucking oblivious to it it has the air of making people forget there'd be anything to watch? Fukkity fukfukfuk.

"Crashing hotel parties with a stolen car I could be talked into." He shakes his head maybe not believing a word of it but not calling it out either and ruining any of it. "Oh yeah Something tells me she's got more happening than sitting around waiting for a guy with a nutcracker." He considers and murmurs quietly, "You wanna put up a bet for fun and we'll see if that happens. Not... Cruel Intentions sorta way, I mean just having fucking fun with shit. Winner gets a favor that is... fair and reasonable. Yeah?" On the matter of Jaime's presenting he still mulls that over.

Sparrow might be a bit distracted by that casual counterpoint, the effortless flirtation from an unexpected source. Cuz she certainly doesn't notice the little bit of glimmer needed to get the job done the second time around either. Clearly, Joey is just exceptionally well-built and understands torque in a way that most don't. It's attractive. The grin she wears as takes her beer says as much. But that grin goes all soft and weird at his next words, her gaze dipping toward the table as she takes a long swig of her beer. It's the talk of a bet that has her peeking back up, curiosity most decidedly piqued. Though her, "Alright," sounds tentative, like she's just willing to listen, the gleam in her eyes says yes without even hearing the terms.

Joey is still a Kelly at the end of the day and those can sneak up on a person with charm and panache when so motivated. "Maybe I like seeing what you'll come up with but... I also like long odds." The grin falls to a thoughtful expression. "Okay so plan is we go out tomorrow. Don't tell her, we'll hit up Platinum Cabaret, go out for food after. I'd say go steal some pumpkins but I don't think they're ready yet. Doesn't mean we can't go though." Why? Fuck it cause they can. need there be an ulterior motive? That dimpled wry grin of pure no-good comes back from teh devil spawn with more abs than common sense some days, "Keep it a surprise. That's for you. I won't say nothin." He does consider something more though, "Concert tickets. Take em somewhere. Concert. Loud, outdoors. Reckless. Good."

Sparrow listens, but it looks like she's not finding what she's looking for in Joey's brainstorming. She gives her beer a little waggle side to side as her dark eyebrows edge up toward her red, red hair. "Strip club, dinner, chaos..." That's what she's catching so far. "Where's the bet, handsome? I'm not following."

"I dunno. I collect money I sure as shit don't make it." At least the self depricating humor reaches his eyes not taking it at all serious. "But, she has a genuinly good time and it works I'm callin in a favor that yoooou will enjoy. Promise. but I fail and you get not only mocking rights but a favor back."

"So..." Sparrow draws out that syllable while she thinks. "You're betting that she'll have a good time. And I win if she doesn't." With a shake of her head, she says, "No deal. I want her to have a fucking fantastic time, too. I want you to have a fantastic time. I'm down without any promise of favors, handsome. You got me. I'm your enabler." She tips her beer toward him at that then takes a swig, a toast to doing things for the love of doing 'em. When the bottle comes back down, it tilts his way again. "How's about... I get to call in that favor if I can convince her to get up and dance, and you can get your favor if you get Jaime up on stage?"

Joey shakes his head bemused, "You're a good friend. I like you Sparrow. Shit you don't think I will?" He takes a long drink. He ain't got no pride and he's damn confidant in what he does have. "Fuck it. Double Trouble it is. You're on. I'll let him know ." Right. Commiting to making an ass out of himself? Why the fuck not. He clinks the neck of his bottle to hers and sends off a text to Jaime. Well this is short notice.

"I have no doubt you will," Sparrow says with undue pride, as if it's gonna all be her doing. But that affection seems to be mutual, this friendship easily found. Comfortable. She barks a loud, delighted laugh for Double Trouble, quickly quieting down with a glance back out toward the front of the house. No stirring overhead. Probably didn't wake anyone up. As their bottles clink merrily, she murmurs, "So good to me," as if she were spoiled. She takes another long drink from her beer and sinks lower into her seat, the long night starting to wear on her. "Hope you know this is no guarantee at all that I'll get up there." As if she has shame.

Joey lifts his beer, "Well then I await in great anticipation and surprise. So we are clear, I do not require it but I will enjoy the hell outta it. Sides, if we can't do crazy while while we're young we might as well just not fucking bother." He takes a long pull from the bottle adding, "Nothing in life is guaranteed. Having no expectations means 0 disappointments."

Sparrow's expression grows rather serious all of a sudden as she straightens and looks Joey right in the eyes. "I will have you know," she begins, tone as even as she can manage, "I will be doing crazy shit well into my twilight years." The way her eyebrows pitch upward looks almost stern as she goes on to tell him, "I expect the same from my good friends." A couple seconds pass before she snorts a laugh and sinks back, smiling again, drinking. The conversation's easy, banter and bullshitting, plans they'll never follow through on. Enough nonsense to fill the hour or so before Joey has to shower and head into work. Let's hope Sparrow's got some time to snag a nap before class.