2019-09-14 - Journalistic Integrity

For once, Kevin isn't working super-late, despite all of the recent murders -- ahem, suspicious deaths -- in the city. It's early dinner-time, and he leans back in his chair, his laptop open to a nearly-completed article in front of him. He wears khaki shorts in the face of the warm summer night, apparently uncaring about the drizzle, and his t-shirt is pale blue, showing two anthropomorphic 4x2 LEGO pieces clicking together, the one in front making a clear o-face. He's never been one for sports (except Cross Country running -- it's a sport, damn it) and so what he throws up and catches isn't a ball of any kind but a squishy, rubberized foam d20. "So." He seems to be talking to everyone and no-one at the same time, "is it journalistically wrong to hush up all the deaths, knowing that trumpeting them across the front page with the recent statistics would cause public panic?"

"Journalistically speaking, I can't believe you wore that shirt out in public. Your shirt is causing a public panic. No one wants to see two lego pieces doing that. Think of the children," Magnolia says this all without looking up from where she's working at an empty desk in the bullpen. She's dressed in softened denim jeans, and a nondescript t-shirt; her hair is tossed up in a ponytail. She appears to be watching NCIS with Mark Harmond's incredible Handsome Old Guy-Ness occupying her screen.

"The children young enough to be scarred won't know what's going on." Kevin pauses a moment, "I mean, besides Lark, because she's too smart for your own good," not her own good, her mother's own good, "and for mine." He tosses up the d20 again, but when it comes back down, he bobbles it, tries to catch it again, nearly falls out of his chair, and still fails to catch the bouncing little bauble. "Whoops." He goes bright red, sitting up and scooting his office chair after the plush die. "Besides, it's way more fun seeing which adults get it right away, and which get it like 5 steps past me, and which never get it." Scooping up the die, he pops out of the chair, "Sauza's," Mexican food, "should be here in another ten or so. Whatcha workin' on?" He leans over her shoulder.

Magnolia snorts something incoherent under her breath at the idea of her daughter -- precious Lark -- being too smart for Magnolia's own good. It's true, but fuck if Mags is going to admit that. So, instead she's continuing to watch NCIS and generally ignoring the mere idea that Lark would have any idea what those lego pieces are doing. Though she does glance aside at the sound of Kevin bobbling the squishy die, and she hides her amusement at his blush. "You're such an instigator." Then she's looking at Kevin as he looms. "Um. Very serious research into Naval investigation techniques." DiNozzo just got Gibbs smacked. Again.

Jessica returns to her desk, eyeing off the pair for a moment - why is Mangolia here? Is it 'bring your partner to work day'? No, that would require Kevin to actually work instead of loom over Magnolia while wearing a t-shirt advertising sex. And where is the kid anyway? There's at least one serial killer on the loose! Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt - a nice one that doesn't advertise sex but instead proclaims 'Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.'. Probably got it off Harper. "Don't hassle the pretty lady, Kevin" Jessica deadpans.

"Yup, very serious research into Silver Fox Hotness." Kevin's hand sweeps up, teasing a Gibbs-smack of his own. He is, however, smart enough not to actually try and give Magnolia one for realsies. Just barely. He leans over to observe the proper technique, and then he starts as Jessica appears nearby, straightening up quickly and looking wide-eyed at his co-worker from behind his glasses, "Hey! She's hassling me! I'm allowed to reciprocate under the Male-Female Treaty Pact of 1873." There's a momentary pause, "Although I think most of that Pact was abrogated by the We're So, So, So Sorry Agreement of 2018." He gives Magnolia's chair a little nudge with one hand, then starts back to his desk, "So Lia won't weigh in, which means I've got to turn to you, Jess: Do we have a responsibility as responsible journalists," yes, he just used the same word twice in quick succession, "to print the murder rates in town, or does the threat of public unrest and panic override our journalistic integrity?"

"You better hope you look that hot when you're sixty," Magnolia quips back simply. "I bet he's ripped under that no-nonsense jacket, and he's definitely hot when he's building a boat." There's lots to say about the level of hotness that is Mark Harmond. But, we digress -- "Hey, Jess." Magnolia brightens at her, all vibrance and ease. "Kevin was just asking an important question about journalistic integrity." She spikes the Kevin ball, metamorphically, Jessica's way. Though she does snort at Kevin's so-called pact. "Way to be heteronormative there, Big Kev." Now she's just trying to taunt him. But she is smiling lightly as she shuts down her laptop, and spins in her chair to regard the two journalists.

Jessica catches the d20, staring at it for a moment. "I think you rolled a critical fail, Kevin. Hey, Mags. Nice to see you." She throws the d20 Kevin's way. "And I'm sorry you had to turn to a journalist to ask about journalistic integrity, Kevin" Jessica snorts. "I'm surprised you even need to ask the question. Our job is not to keep people safe, it is to keep people informed. Though we do that by not acting like Fox News." She spits out that last word like it doesn't belong there. "We honestly report. We don't pander to anyone. We don't proclaim it is the end of the world or that you could die tomorrow, that's what editorials are for, we present the facts. Do you have any facts to present?" She rummages through her drawers for something to eat. "Did I hear mention of Mexican food earlier? By the same token, if the police want us to keep something quiet to help catch the killer, we consider it on its individual merits...or lack thereof. And can you blame women for not wanting to conform to a treaty written in 1873? I'd be stoned for showing my ankles." She is in bare feet.

"Who said anything about it having anything to do with romance, Lia?" Kevin narrows his eyes at the nickname, "The Male-Female Treaty Pact of 1873 was totally about male female relations, not about romance. Then again, that doesn't include non-binary or other important situations. Which is totally part of the content of the W-Four-S Agreement of 2018." His d20 goes elsewhere, but he doesn't protest, instead sighing and dropping back into his chair again with a protesting squeak from the seat. "Yeah, we've got Sauza's coming. I may've ordered some extra." He lances his fingers behind his head, finally getting back to the meat of his original question, "Yeah, but if we talk about murders per capita over the last six months, it is going to cause a public panic, even if we're not trying to. I mean, maybe people should be panicking, but I don't think we need roving posses or people deciding to play vigilante. That wouldn't do anyone any good but mask and cape stores. And maybe the morgue."

"Ugh." Magnolia wishes she could duck her attention back behind a book, but instead she's left just turning in her chair to look at Jessica. "I'm sorry you have to work with him all day, every day." Then she tucks up her foot, knee to her chest. When Jess spits out the reference to Fox News, Magnolia's smile turns incandescent. "I like her." Then she takes a sip from a water bottle she had tucked at her side. "Uh, Kevin... pretty sure the only people that, that kind of report is going to freak out is people who have never lived in Gray Harbor more than a year. Just compare it to the murder per capita of wherever that Murder She Wrote TV show took place in and no one will bat an eye." Though that's really bypassing the whole thing about journalistic integrity, and so she subsides to let the two journos talk about it.

"You're now responsible for what people do with the information we give them, Kevin? Taken it upon yourself to decide the moral maturity and reactions of others?" Jessica sighs a little, turning her chair to look at the others since it is much more interesting than her report on the new flavors at the ice cream parlor. "We report the truth, society does with it what it will. You want us to self-censor? You want other people to censor us? People who know what is best for us?" A smile for Magnolia. "Cabot Cove. Thing is, not every murder in that show happened in that town. The Jonah known as Jessica Fletcher was always on book tours around the country and the world. Kevin's not too bad. At least he's stopped playing with himself at his desk."

Kevin scoffs at Magnolia's complaining then nods at the judgment of Jessica, "Yup. She busts the right balls." He flashes a bright grin across to Jessica in the wake of that comment, then frowns and nods as they each weigh in, kicking up his feet on the corner of the desk and holding his hands out for his d20 to be tossed back to him -- like he's actually going to catch it whenever it's thrown back. "I can still write the overall story without including the numbers. Assuming it gets past the Editor, or the people behind the Editor's edicts." He rolls his shoulders, "I don't know... it's like, things aren't just dangerous in town lately, they're weird. And I say that as someone who spent 18 years of my life here." Most of which he had his nose stuck in a book. He pauses, narrowing his eyes, and then questions, "Wait... has it really always been this bad?" Oh, right, and there was something way more important than mass murder in there, "I do not play with myself at the desk. I save that for at home." Oop, he just went bright red, his eyes darting from Jessica to Magnolia, and his shoulders drawing in as if he were trying to disappear into himself.

Jessica hits the nail on the head, because Magnolia is nodding soberly with that start. "She's right. Not your job." Then she is scowling good-naturedly at Jessica. "Okay, fine, but... you get my point." Does she? Does anyone? Now she's looking back to Kevin. "Look, you do you, boo... you don't want to stir the pot, print it without numbers; you want to get people to see that there's actual shit happening in this town that has nothing to do with the sewage system, then you print the numbers. Take the gamble. Worse thing that happens if your editor tells you to rewrite, but at least then you f'in know that you tried to write it true and someone else censored you." She ignores the blushing turtling. She will bring that up later.

"Only eighteen years? You're like a Gray baby" Jessica smiles at Kevin. "Which is not healthy. Babies shouldn't be grey, even I know that. Weird stuff always happens here...but not here here...more there here. At least until lately. Look, is it necessary to state that we have the worst per capita murder rate outside of Mogadishu for the purposes of your reporting on the murders? Or can you keep it just to the murders? Have you got anything interesting on them? Suspects? Leads? I know that the Hollywood cop is on the motel case, who is on the other ones? If you ask me, a whole bunch of folk out there are using the Addington murders, which we're not allowed to write about, as cover." She shrugs. "Just a theory." Then she remembers that Magnoia is a P.I. "You have anything, Mags? Anyone tired of the police not solving anything and looking to you?" She will toss the d20 back at Kevin; hopefully, it will not result in him falling out of his chair. Again. As for playing with himself at home, she arches an eyebrow at the pair. "Aren't you two an item? You still need to do that, Kevin?"

"First eighteen of my life. And two more since I got back. So I guess that's twenty years." Kevin reconsiders, tilting his head thoughtfully -- right when Jessica tosses the die back to him. He spots it out of the corner of his eye as it's partway to him, and flings his limbs out in nearly every direction, almost falling out of his chair again, but somehow managing to get both of his hands on the foam isocahedron after two bobbles, catching it before it -- or he -- falls. "I was trying to put together a story tying them all together. I can't, really. Except, like you said, when the Addington cases are being hushed up here and at police headquarters, it means that other murders slip in under the radar too. And I wish I had anything on them. I've been looking into jewelry." He hastens to add, "Missing jewelry. Not anything else." More red heat in Kevin's cheeks. "But each one sounds coincidental, and it doesn't sound all that bad when you look at each death on its own but together?" He makes a disgusted sound, powering past the question about his relationship status with Magnolia or the Palm Sisters, "Maybe you're right, Lia. Maybe I put it in to prove a point, and then let them cut it if they want to."

"Babies should not be grey," Magnolia agrees. Then she lets the conversation flow between Jess and Kevin -- right up until she's being dragged into it. She offers a bemused little smile before she shrugs her shoulders. "Yes? No? Byron hits me up sometimes -- but I tend to still be working the cheating significant others, recovering lost or stolen items, and tracking rebellious teenagers racket." She crosses her arms loosely at her chest. She does grimace slightly. "Though I swear if someone says the name 'Addington' again, I might eat my own hand off." Her gaze just ticks toward Kevin briefly at the blushing and then back to Jessica. "I think he should just go balls to the wall and get it out there. That's just my opinion."

Jessica winces at the acrobatic antics of her athletic associate but he hasn't embarrassed himself too much. Barely. "Let's write the truth and if other people stop us, then at least we know we're onto something. Who is missing jewellery? This to do with Lilith's ring? Oh, and for future reference, Kevin, all murders are bad, even in isolation." A wink for him before a furrowing of her brows at Magnolia. "What he does with his balls is his business but not sure banging them at a wall is going to be much fun. Byron hits you up? Oh...work reasons. Got it. Maybe you should have a look at the murders too? We could certainly make sure you get noticed. And we need a code for the 'A' word so Mags doesn't eat her hand." Where is that food? Jessica's hungry with all this talk of eating. "I'm gonna try and talk to some cops. See what I can get off the record...which I will then put on the record."

Kevin's blushing ceases at Magnolia's suggestion, "Yeah. Got me fired from two papers already, why not go for three?" He spins back to his computer, adding, "Um... pretty sure it's illegal to let a day go by in town without someone saying Addington." As he starts typing, he fires over his shoulder to Jessica, still typing, "One death is a tragedy, a million a statistic?" There's a pause in his words, but his fingers keep moving, "Lia's focused on paying cases right now. Back-to-school sucks for parents. I mean, besides the obvious of not having the kid around during the day. And... um... it might have to do with the curse-ring." He probably shouldn't be saying that out-loud, but clearly people will assume he's talking about D&D, "But maybe not. Something mimics something horrible encounter design something not really a dream. And be careful with playing games with on-the-record and off, Jess. I mean, you know that as well as I do, but it's a small town, you start playing games, people are going to know."

"How about the Paddingtons? Then I can just assume we're talking about some talking teddy bear with a British accent that's not Winnie the Pooh --" He had a British accent, right? Magnolia then finger-guns at Kevin with a little 'tcht' sound. "Yeah. Paying gigs. I mean, I'll look into it now that you've said something because I'm that person, too, but at least we're going to pretend that I am a PI who only works paying gigs." She gives Jessica an amused look only to then sigh out a sharp breath at the whole 'cursed rings' thing. "Yeah. Guess I gotta go get a scuba license." Mysterious. "Know where we can find a lead-lined box? I'm going ot need one of those, too."

"I thought parents couldn't wait for their kids to go back to school" Jessica smiles sweetly. No discussing the curse-ring in public - got it. "In an ideal world, people wouldn't be afraid of speaking the truth. They'd be rewarded for it instead of sued. Yeah, I know not to scratch my records. Even a million deaths is a tragedy...though it gets bigger headlines." A glance at her computer before she frowns a little. "I'm going to go out in search of food since the delivery seems to have gone to the wrong place. I may even go home afterwards. That'll make a change. Paddington is new code word. Done. Paddington came from Peru though, not sure he would have an English accent. Lead-lined box? Got something radioactive going on?" Jessica slips her sandals on before grabbing her stuff and heading for the exit. "You two be good. And no making a mess on my desk."

"The movies told us that he had a British accent." Kevin waits a beat pause, "What? They were actually really good. They weren't just kids movies." He rolls his eyes a little at Magnolia's statement that of course she's going to look into the murders too, which he already knew, and he finger-guns her right back. She even gets both barrels. "Sued would be a relief. That would mean I didn't have the sources and I was off my rocker, instead of very, very on it." He pauses, frowning in thought, "That metaphor may not be the best one." Pushing past that, he adds, "Instead, it's just getting fired. Although that may have had more to do with posting the story myself without editorial oversight. But that was because I knew it wouldn't get approved." The question about radioactivity causes Kevin to look back to Magnolia, considering thoughtfully, and then hold out one hand, palm-down, wavering it from side to side: maybe yes, maybe no. "And I'm always good, Jess." This is not true. Not even in the slightest. "Goodnight."