Left to her own devices after a particularly satisfying start to her morning, Zaria had showered and unpacked. It took her a total of ten minutes to put everything she owned away, which felt both like too much and too little. Logan’s belongings were stowed away carefully with hers, his clothes given their own dedicated drawer alongside her own. She’d gotten dressed after enjoying a nice naked prance around her new space, and then she’d gone on a hunt to find something to eat. The kitchen was, blissfully, empty of all others but there were what appeared to be homemade donuts and a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the counter.
"This place rocks." She said to no one in particular, fixing herself a cup of coffee and setting three donuts aside before snagging another mug for James. She felt a little bad, leaving him on his own last night. Though, she felt pretty justified in the extenuating circumstances. When hot women want to have sex with you, you have sex with them and don’t ask questions. It wasn’t like it was anything more than sex…her conversation with Jules this morning surfaced though, and her stomach fluttered. Aria distracted herself with stacking their coffee, some cream, sugar, and donuts onto a tray before heading toward the elevator.
J.A.R.V.I.S. was very polite with being a man stuck inside a tower, she’d decided. The references of him being AI was lost on her, she didn’t even know what that stood for and the man seemed real enough. Maybe she’d get to meet him eventually. He guided her to James’s floor, and she wasted no time in appreciating his new housing arrangement before she was pushing into the bedroom. She paused at the sight of him stretched across the bed in the wrong direction, still dressed.
"That doesn’t look very comfortable." Zaria said aloud, setting the tray down on one of the bedside tables before she plopped down beside James with all the grace of a well fed house cat. She bounced on the bed, jostling him, before stretching out and patting his head gently. "Should I take my humble offering of donuts and coffee and leave you to your endeavor of acquiring severe neck pain?"
Wake up. The spirit’s words jostled him awake when the added weight on his bed did nothing to rouse him.
James groaned, turning his face to bury it in the drool soaked blankets that were bunched under his head. His hands pushed off the mattress as he tried to sit up. Every muscle and joint in his body was sore from at least fifteen hours of sleep that qualified as bordering on death. He hadn’t moved an inch the entire time and he felt it… Especially in his neck. As he adjusted to sit on the side of the bed beside Aria, he turned his head sharply to the side, sending a loud procession of pops and cracks down his spine. He hunched over, elbows on his knees, left hand rubbing his neck as he tried to climb out of his mental fog. Bloodshot eyes peered over at the girl from beneath the mop of shaggy black hair. He caught a faint glimpse of a white lacey something or other that showed more skin than covered it. "Do you own shirts that actually cover your breasts?" he grumbled as his gaze shifted to her face, voice hoarse from off and own snoring.
"Nope." She said, popping the P with enthusiasm. Zaria sat up, shifting so she was on her knees on the bed behind him, a hand slipping to the back of his neck so she could help him workout the tense knots at the back of his neck. She did, actually, but it was a little more funny this way. "Though I’d argue that if you can’t see my nipples, my breasts are technically covered. Do you have something against pillows?" Her voice was bright and cheerful, clearly from the two of them Zaria was more of a morning person.
His brows rose a little as he watched her move around behind him. "I didn’t pack my pocket dictionary… But I don’t think that’s how that—" James tensed, knuckles in his hands popping as he clenched his fist to keep from moving. While having the knots worked out was nice… Kind of, it fucking hurt. "There’s pillows," he replied while pointing toward the pillows that still rested at the head of the bed. His exhaustion might have clouded his mind enough that he sought somewhere to die last night. He wasn’t particular about there being pillows or not. Hell, there was a minute he considered passing out on the couch, but he at least managed to drag his ass up to the bed. Small victories.
Her thumb dug into one of the knots on the side of her neck, rolling it out until it was gone and then moving on to another spot. She wrinkled her nose at him, pulling back a little once all the tense spots had been worked out of his neck. "You look awful, how long did you sleep for?"
"I don’t know… What time is it?" James’s brows furrowed as he raised the watch on his left wrist close to his face. He had to blink the tiredness from his eyes several times before he could focus. "Meeting was at six… So… Fifteen hours, give or take." He rubbed his eyes aggressively trying to get rid of whatever sleepdust lingered in the corners stubbornly. "Some of us weren’t invited to a threesome."
She pulled back fully, face burning and suddenly unable to meet his gaze. Zaria shifted so she was sitting at the end of the bed instead of behind James, tugging at her shirt self-consciously. "Right," her voice was tense, taking the shot at her evenings activities for what it was. For some reason, she hadn’t expected judgment from James. It was her own fault, she was looking for Logan in people that were not him. Logan would have bought her a beer in celebration, but they were two different people and she’d really only just met James. "Sorry. Well, there’s coffee and donuts there. I’ll just leave you to…" she waved a hand toward the blanket discolored with patches of drool and the wrinkled sheets, pushing up off the bed.
Dumb ass.
"Shut up," James muttered under his breath. The spirit’s voice felt like a migraine scraping at the back of his brain and he hadn’t been awake for more than five minutes. He sighed and ran his hands over his face. "I’m sorry," he called after Aria, apologizing obviously not very common for him. He didn’t look up, messy hair hiding his face. "It’s none of my business," he sighed, cupping his hands together in the space between his knees. It seemed even fifteen hours of sleep didn’t alleviate his prickly disposition. There was still the nagging feeling that the two women who shared Aria’s bed were bad news but he couldn’t voice his concerns without sounding jealous. And… Maybe a small part of him was.
Zaria hesitated with her hand on the rail to the stairs, squeezing the cool metal between her fingers. She counted to fifteen in her head, steadying herself, before she turned back toward James with a half smile on her lips. It looked a little forced, but she wasn’t angry with him, just herself. "It just sort of…happened, I don’t know." She shrugged, feeling more tired than she had all morning all at once. "I’ve gotten used to living each day like it’ll be my last before I’m dragged back by my dad, so usually I just…" she made a sort of helpless noise in the back of her throat, moving back to sit down on the bed beside him.
"I get so caught up in wanting to live that I don’t always think it through. I’m sorry, if it upset you. I didn’t mean to, I doubt it’ll amount to much of anything in the end..." Zaria’s mind wandered to her brief conversation with Jules that morning, her heart doing a little flip in her chest at the thought of it all. Sleeping together occasionally wasn’t a commitment, she knew she’d only be able to do it for so long before she got attached. Ronnie hadn’t even stuck around, or came back, so she was fairly confident that the other woman wasn’t interested in more than sex. She sighed, feeling like it was all a little too complicated to be contemplating so early in the morning. "I’ve been informed I trust too easily, it is what it is. You can judge, if you want. It was dumb."
"I…" The words got stuck in his chest and wouldn’t come out. He cleared his throat and tapped his thumbs together. "You do trust too easily," James said, clinging to her comment rather than focusing on however he did or didn’t feel. "You got on the back of a motorcycle with a guy who turns into a flaming skeleton after like five minutes so… Maybe not the best call." He laughed softly. "Don’t worry. I’m not judging—that’s his job," he pointed to his head, "—I think maybe you should just be a little cautious considering everything."
Tell her, the spirit rolled around his skull demanding attention.
James sighed. "He wants me to tell you that there was something off about them… The women you were with." He ran a hand back through his hair and looked over at Aria.
"You saved my life," she pointed out, brows rising some. Her smile tilted up into something a little more genuine as her shoulders relaxed. "And technically, you got onto a motorcycle with a woman who was trying to steal it."
"A cute blonde stealing my bike is the most action I’ve got in years," James teased. It was a better answer than admitting he could have killed her in two seconds if she was actually an issue. But the spirit didn’t stir because of her and he found himself trusting his judgement of other people’s character more than he cared to admit.
She paused, head tilting as she digested what he said. It was just sex, it wasn’t like she was letting them take her out of the tower and away from…the person who made her feel safe. She glanced at James, cheeks heating again, and then away. "Something off? Like what?" Her question was genuine, not a hint of judgment in her tone, only mild confusion.
"I don’t know. It’s not always clear. He said something about a lot of guilt and I started to steam… Which can happen around certain types of people." James shrugged his shoulders. "It could be nothing or transgressions of their past. I don’t know. Just, you know, be careful." He looked over at her, his brows knit with concern. While he could fight off idiot cowboys all day, he couldn’t protect her if she put herself in vulnerable situations. "And maybe don’t leave the tower alone with someone," he added with an awkward laugh.
"Thank you, Judge, James." She bumped her shoulder against his, smiling softly up at him. It was nice, having someone care again, and knowing she cared what happened to him too. "I won’t leave the tower with anyone but you, deal?" She leaned around him, half over his lap, to snag a donut from the tray. With all the elegance of an excited dog digging into a rotisserie chicken they’d found in the trash, she tore off half and stuffed it into her mouth, smiling up at him with her cheeks bulging and a smear of the clear glaze on her bottom lip. "Mmm!" Zaria waved what remained of the donut in front of James, trying to coax him into eating.
James nodded his head with a small smile. "Deal." He watched her make a show of eating a donut and laughed. He rolled his eyes as he reached for a donut, waved it similarly in front of her face and took a bite. After he swallowed it, he shrugged his shoulders a bit in playful defeat. "Alright, go on. I know you wanna talk about it." His other hand reached out to grab one of the coffees, needing some caffeine to wake himself up and brace himself for the onslaught of sex stories he’d never be able to erase from his mind. He took a sip and pulled the cup away slightly to examine it. "Is there any coffee in here? Tastes like straight milk and sugar."
She laughed around the donut in her mouth, almost choked, and swallowed hastily before laughing again. "I don’t know if you really want to hear about the twenty one orgasms I’ve had in the last fifteen hours." Her grin turned sort of sly, like a cat that had gotten a fresh dish of cream after pretending to be very good. The sex had been good, more than good really, but Zaria wasn’t sure if she should tell him about Jules and how she’d left her shaky and gasping by the time she’d slipped out of the bed this morning. Or how Ronnie had made use of several surfaces in her kitchen before moving to the bedroom. Or…she coughed, reaching for the other cup and trading James. "That’s because that cup is mine and it’s perfect the way it is." His mug was filled with black coffee, because he’d seemed like the sort of freak who would enjoy that. "How do you drink your coffee, anyways?"
He made the mistake of taking a bite of his donut before Aria spoke. The second she mentioned orgasms in the double digits James inhaled sharply also sucking in the half chewed piece of dough. He doubled over, pounding his chest as he tried to catch his breath and also not choke. His eyes were watering by the time he reached over and grabbed his cup of coffee. Black, bleh. He downed half of it before he was able to make it three seconds without coughing. "Jesus fuck—" he coughed again, "—I love being unwillingly abstinent." His voice cracked and sounded pained at the end of his comment before finishing with another cough.
James finished the rest of his coffee, grimaced at the empty mug, then looked over at Aria. "I feel like I should be offended that you thought I liked black coffee." He held the empty cup in his hands and contemplated the question. It was so often that he was in a hurry going from place to place that he settled for whatever bullshit coffee he could get his hands on, no matter how sweet or black it was. "Splash of cream and honey." He shrugged his shoulders knowing it might have been a little unusual. "It tastes better than sugar."
Zaria was trying really hard not to laugh at his reaction, lips pressed tightly together, eyes watering some as she held in her mirth. Technically, she’d stopped counting around there, it probably went higher…she’d spare James that detail though. Her eyebrows furrowed as his comment registered, and she shifted a little on the bed beside him. "How long…sorry, no." Zaria flopped back onto the bed after she set her mug and coffee cup down, stretching out along the foot of the mattress in a patch of sunlight like a cat. "That’s funny, Logan drank his coffee the same way."
"It’s alright," he shrugged his shoulders and ran his hand back through his hair. "I uh… Can’t remember," James admitted with furrowed brows as he set down his empty mug on the nightstand. "Most women aren’t really a fan of a guy who talks to himself and has a spirit co-pilot," he mused with a weak laugh. His expression grew pensive at her comment. He slowly glanced over his shoulder at her. "Who’s Logan?"
Aria hesitated, eyes set on the ceiling for a long moment as she mulled over the question. The silence stretched for a moment, and then all the air left her lungs in a soft whoosh. "I ran away before my arranged marriage, I almost didn’t make it. My…my twin brother understood though, he wanted better for me. We were supposed to leave together, but he stayed behind so I could go." Her finger tips traced senseless patterns across the bedspread, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. It felt too much like she was confessing sins. "After I left, I was alone for a while. Barely surviving, really. Stark wasn’t joking when he called me princess." Her lips twisted into a sneer around the word, hate seeping into every syllable. "I was utterly helpless on my own, I don’t even know how to use a broom. Isn’t that so fucking stupid?" Zaria laughed, but it was a sort of broken sound, she could feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
"Logan found me in the middle of a bar fight, someone caught up to me and wanted to bring me back to my dad…he didn’t let them." Her fingers caught on the chain of the dog tags, and she pulled them out of where they’d been hiding in her bra, holding them out so James could clearly see the name printed on them. One read JAMES HOWLETT but the other had WOLVERIINE stamped into the metal. She smiled at them, sad and gentle. "He taught me how to live like a proper runaway, credit card fraud and all."
James slowly leaned over to read the dogtags. He remembered hearing about the Wolverine. There wasn’t much he knew beyond the shit that ended up on the news or shitty gas station tabloids. But he knew enough to know the man was some kind of hero. Which meant… "So… He’s missing?" He looked up from the necklace to meet Aria’s gaze.
"Yeah, I’ve been looking for him but..." she shrugged one shoulder, letting the dog tags drop back to her chest with a small and metallic clink. "It was his pager that led me here, I had hoped he would be here waiting…but deep down, I knew he wouldn’t have left to begin with." It hurt to admit aloud, and part of the reason she’d so willingly fallen into bed with Ronnie and Jules was to avoid thinking about the truth she’d found herself in. "He was the closest thing I ever had to…what I think an actual dad would be like. Even if most dads wouldn’t have taught their daughters how to win bar fights."
"Oh, I don’t know," James replied, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him causing both knees to pop. "My dad taught my sister how to throw a punch… Taught me that too and how to be a stunt motorcyclist in the circus." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he chuckled. "I don’t think he’s winning any dad of the year awards." Between putting him in life threatening stunts before he hit double digits and disowning him as an adult, James’s dad wasn’t on his list of favorite people… Even if he still loved him regardless.
"You have a sister?" She was surprised, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. James seemed…safe, like that. It was hard to explain, but he was very tolerant of Zaria in a way that only someone with a sister could be. "Did you do tea parties in between motorcycle stunts? Please say yes."
James laughed at Aria’s eagerness to know about his relationship with his sister. Most people cared more about the death defying stunts, not what he did as a fairly normal older brother. "Yeah. She’d even do my hair and paint my nails." He smiled, looking over at the blonde beside him. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized Aria kinda reminded him of Emma. They were probably around the same age. His grin faltered as an ache tugged at his chest and his gaze fell to his hands.
"I did that to my brother, too." She reached out on instinct, squeezing his hand gently before letting her own fall away. James looked so sad all of the sudden, it made her chest feel tight. "I miss him a lot…so, I understand. Sort of. I could paint your nails sometime, could be fun."
James’s gaze fell to their hands before drifting over to her. "If it’d make you happy," he folded without a shred of a fight, smiling at her attempt to cheer him up. It’d probably make him more sad than happy but… He’d sacrifice a lot to make others happy. Painted nails was a pretty painless trade.
She smiled at James in that soft unguarded way she was realizing was for him alone…and maybe for Jules and Ronnie, though she wasn’t entirely certain on that. She realized, in that moment, that there were other people than just Logan worth fighting for. "What would make you happy?"
His family talking to him again. Being more than a host for a sin obsessed spirit. Finding a home so he no longer had to wander from place to place. "Nothing within your power," he looked over at Aria with a faint smile. "I'll let you know if that changes."
"Promise?" She held up a closed fist, her pinky finger raised, and Zaria wiggled it at him.
He looked down at her extended finger with a soft chuckle. James slowly raised his hand to meet hers and hooked his calloused picky around hers. "Promise."
Promises meant a lot to Zaria, especially something as childish as a pinky promise. The last person she’d made one with was Logan, who had been bemused but reluctantly willing. She’d hoard this promise like a dragon with its treasure, but for now…she’d focus on James’s demonic companion. "How is Judge doing today? Does he sleep when you sleep?"
James groaned at his stiff muscles as he slowly laid back on his bed beside her, staring up at the exposed concrete ceiling. He bent his right arm beneath his head while his left hand rested on his stomach. "I have no idea. You’ll have to ask him."
She rolled onto her side, head propped up with one hand, elbow resting on the bed, so she could properly look at James now. "Judge, how are you this morning? Did you sleep?" She was smiling again, happy to have moved to lighter topics.
He slowly rolled his head to the side to look up at her. James felt the heat rising and rattling around his chest as the spirit began to stir. "I exist." The voice beat against his ribcage, deep and rough like a hand running through the coals of a fire. "I wait. I do not sleep." There was a small spark like a flame that illuminated behind James’s eyes.
"So, you don’t dream?" Zaria curled in on herself some, tucking her legs up and resting her head on her arm instead of propping it up. That was really sad to think about, though she supposed a demon wouldn’t sleep. "What is it you’re waiting for? Sinners? Do you look forward to anything else? Like…uh, like chili cheese hot dogs? Those are really good." She grinned at him, already knowing what she wanted for dinner later tonight.
"No," the voice rumbled. "I can watch James’s dreams though. He’s very depressing."
James’s face contorted as a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. "Yeah, thanks for that," he groaned, raising his left hand to rub his eyes.
"Yes," the spirit replied to the second question, his voice dark and monotone. "I seek sinners to smite or demons to send back to hell."
"Huh," she reached out, patting James on the chest. "We need to find a hobby for you. If you could experience one human thing, just one, what would it be?" She’d thought a chili cheese dog was pretty convincing, but the image of Judge learning how to knit was infinitely more appealing.
"I have experienced most things humans enjoy through James," the spirit replied before going quiet for an unsettling long amount of time.
The silence had grown to the point where James adjusted and brows furrowed. "I think you stumped—"
"Love." The deep voice rang out, overpowering James. "James has exposed me to many emotions, but not love."
James sat up abruptly, half jumping out of his bed. "Ok. That’s enough." He shoved Judge back into his cage as the panic made him restless. He walked halfway across the balcony catwalk where he found his discarded bag. He dug out what little toiletries he had without looking toward Aria. "I need to shower," he said awkwardly, dipping into the bathroom before she could stop him.
Zaria sat up, surprise set across her features as clear as day. She watched him flee, eyes wide and brows raised, and as the sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the penthouse she was left to digest how a demon wanted love of all things. She’d expected something more…carnal? It was surprising in the best of ways, and it made her heart flutter as she realized there was so much more to James and Judge than anyone would know unless they tried.
She rolled around in the bed for a minute, deciding her mattress was certainly better, before she got up and, feeling utterly bored and a little like a mother hen, she started to unpack James’s clothes, hanging up T-shirts and folding jeans neatly into his dresser. Once she was done and he still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom, she neatly made the bed, fluffing the pillows that hadn’t even been used, and eventually moved to the kitchen to make him a proper breakfast. Which to her, involved scrambled eggs with a little too much pepper, toast, and slightly burnt bacon, just like Logan had taught her.
By the time he’d decided to stop hiding away, she was pouring him a fresh cup of coffee, creamer and honey set out on the counter beside his plate. Aria grinned, rocking back on her heels. "I got bored waiting for you."
James finally emerged from the bathroom, water still dripping from his hair and running down his bare chest. He tucked the end of the towel against his hip as he finished wrapping himself. As he stepped into his bedroom he noticed his bed was made and heard noises coming from the kitchen below. He slowly approached the railing, resting his hands against the cool metal as he looked over the edge finding Aria making food. "Gonna be honest… Kinda figured you would have left." He stood back upright and strummed his fingers. He couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or thankful she waited. It was nice having a friend but having the spirit roped into it all a little less so. "Give me a second," he sighed and pushed off the railing. As long as she didn’t ask about the love thing then maybe he wouldn’t be annoyed.
It took him longer than he wanted to admit to actually find wherever the hell she stashed his clothes. Shocker, they were put away rather than left bunched up in his bag, which was how he usually kept his shit. Since she was downstairs, James just hoped she stayed down there because he didn’t feel like changing in the bathroom. She had already seen him naked but that didn’t mean he was just going to strut around in the nude all the time. He left his towel draped over his shoulders to catch drips from his hair as he slipped on a pair of boxers and then jeans. The sound of his bare feet smacking against the spiral staircase echoed throughout the apartment as he descended to the lower level while zipping and buttoning his pants. He slowly approached the kitchen using the towel to dry his hair and wipe up drips that fell on his chest.
"You can’t use a broom but know how to scramble eggs?" he asked as he slid onto a barstool at the counter.
"Logan taught me how to cook eggs," Zaria pouted at the plate, eyeing the copious amounts of little black pepper flakes that were mixed into the eggs. "This is how you eat them, right?" As if to demonstrate that this was, clearly, the perfect way to season a scrambled egg she popped a fork full into her mouth, diligently chewing past the strong pepper taste with watering eyes. "Mmm!" Unlike with earlier, this didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.
James looked down at the scrambled eggs which had so much pepper they were polka dotted. "Did Logan have an iron stomach?" He pushed off the counter and stood up, leaving his towel hanging over the back of the chair. He walked around Aria, grabbing the plate from her and chucked the food into the trash. After turning the stove back on he grabbed more eggs from the fridge. "Let me show you." He cracked four eggs into a bowl, then quickly whisked them with a fork. "Splash of milk," James said while pouring an unmeasured drop of milk into the yellow liquid. "A sprinkle of salt and pepper." He grabbed the salt and pepper, cranking each shaker three times. "You can always add more afterwards if it's not enough."
He then mixed everything a little more before pouring the eggs into the frying pan. James handed her the spatula seeing as how that was one part she seemed to have a handle on. "Do you like cheese?" His brows furrowed and he chuckled. "Who am I kidding? Everyone likes cheese." He opened up the fridge and found a bag of shredded cheese. James turned back around and added a healthy handful of cheese right into the egg mix. "Cheese makes everything better."
Zaria eyed the spatula with a keen level of trepidation, knowing she’d used a spoon to stir the scrambled eggs but unwilling to admit that to James as she watched how he cooked his eggs, diligently making mental notes of all his instructions. They certainly looked more appealing than her own eggs, fluffy and cheesy. "That was very attractive." She told him matter of factly, accent slipping through into her tone. She eyed James for a moment, as if reconsidering his prowess in the kitchen. "Can you teach me how to make a steak, next?" She grinned up at him before looking over at the discarded first batch of eggs, throwing a mental apology to Logan as she did so.
James looked over at her from the corner of his eyes as his cheeks grew to a soft shade of pink. "I…" He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the eggs. If he had known it was that easy to get a woman’s attention he would have started teaching shirtless cooking lessons years ago. Whether intentional or not, Aria’s comment made him very self aware of every movement he made from that moment forward. He internally debated until the eggs were halfway cooked if he should show her how to use a spatula as he apparently gave her a little too much credit at that point. But it was about teaching her, not that he was accidentally attractive. He had to tell himself that a couple times before continuing.
"Hold on," he said patiently as he turned the pan on the burner so the handle was pointed diagonally toward Aria’s free hand. "Hold the handle," James instructed her while pointing at it. His right hand hovered in the air before hesitantly resting on top of hers and wrapped his fingers around her knuckles. "You don’t have to try so hard. Just run the flat edge of the spatula along the bottom of the pan and push the eggs around. It’ll do the rest." He slowly guided her through the motions as he spoke. While he wouldn’t have given it a second thought two minutes ago, now his face felt hot and his pulse elevated.
Once Aria had the hang of it, James pulled his hand away and took a step back. "Sure," he replied to her question with an awkward sincerity. "I’ll teach you whatever you want. You just have to ask." A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he tucked his wet hair behind his ear before looking for something else to make him busy.
James ran warmer than anyone else she’d been this close to, she’d almost forgotten, but the heat of his hand overlapping her own was jarring and confusing. She stared at their hands instead of what he was trying to teach her for a moment, feeling conflicted and frozen, and then her eyes refocused and Zaria tried with a newfound sort of desperation. The last twenty four hours were turning out to be some of the most intensely confusing of her entire life. It wasn’t entirely a true thought, but at this moment it felt like fact. Her own face felt too warm, eyes set on the yellow of the eggs.
"Thank you," she cleared her throat, gaze flickering from James’s hand, to his hair, back to the pan. She thought about their silly pinky promise earlier, about how Jules had told her she wanted Zaria to trust her, how Ronnie had seemed scared to slip back into bed for anything other than sex, and she was left feeling utterly flummoxed. These people, she realized with an edge of hysteria, were going to kill her faster than any ugly biker cowboy could. "I don’t have anything to really trade you, unless you want to learn how to navigate the political climate of Latervia as the reigning princess."
She smiled at him again, trying desperately to lighten the sudden thick air of tension that hung between the two of them. "There isn’t much to it, fluffy dresses, etiquette lessons, learning there are two hundred and six bones in the human body and how to break them all, tiaras. You know, the basics." Zaria shrugged, eyeing the eggs with a sense of victory.
He laughed softly. "If I ever need advice on finding a dress that matches my bike I’ll let you know," James teased with a lopsided smile. "But there doesn’t have to be a trade… Your company is payment enough." It took about two seconds for him to realize what he said. He cleared his throat as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "That uh… Should be done any minute. I’ll go put on a shirt." He swallowed as he slipped behind her, then grabbed his towel from the chair and made his way toward the spiral staircase.
More color flooded her face, and Zaria was left to flounder alone for a second as James, once again, ran away under the lieu of needing to do something else. She shoved a piece of bacon into her mouth if only to distract herself, and set about plating the new eggs. Just like her feelings of Logan missing, it was much easier to push aside how she felt, the warmth in her chest, by distracting herself.
James took the steps two at a time with ease. Upstairs, he hung the damp towel over the railing and set to finding wherever Aria had put his shirts. That time they weren’t in the dresser but hung in the closet. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the conflicting wave of emotions that made his heart race before he tugged a shirt from a hanger and pulled it on over his head.
I told you, you were too slow, the spirit mocked him.
"Shut up," James grumbled under his breath as he tugged the shirt down over his torso. He took another deep breath then made his way back downstairs. He slipped back onto the barstool with an awkward smile. "Wow. Did you make this all by yourself? That’s very impressive," he teased with a chuckle. "I had no idea you could cook."
Zaria gave a mock bow with an easy smile, hoping to focus on lighter subjects than…whatever this was. "I had a good teacher," she wiggled her eyebrows at him, before settling into her own seat and taking a slow sip of her coffee. "So…what do you think of this whole," Zaria waved her fork around them, indicating to the tower itself. "Team, mission, tower?"
James laughed and shook his head. "Don’t get too used to it. My cooking skills only cover redneck cuisine… breakfast, burgers and beer," he teased before taking a bite of his eggs. He might have been selling himself a little short, but if Aria was expecting him to teach her how to make a lasagna from scratch he was the wrong person. His gaze fell to the yellow lumps of eggs as he poked at them with his fork, his smile fading slightly at the shift to more serious topics. "I don’t know," he admitted with a sigh, sparring a glance over towards her. "I’ve never been part of a team. Spent most of my life either on the road or living in a trailer and working in the circus with my family. This…" He motioned his fork generally to everything around them. "Is a lot. I don’t really feel like I belong here," he confessed, averting his gaze.
"Yeah," Zaria sighed, taking a bite of her toast and wrinkling her nose. She’d need to find out if someone could get her some marmalade, maybe Alfred? "I mean, I get it. The pager wasn’t even mine to answer, and you heard Stark last night…" she shrugged, eyes set on the food on her plate. She certainly belonged less than James, knowing her father he was probably in on this whole mess somehow. Doom had to land on top, no matter who it hurt in the process. "I shouldn’t be here, I don’t even know if Logan would have come. He used to say he wasn’t a hero, but I’ve heard the stories. He is more of a hero than I ever will be."
"I don’t know much about Logan… But from what I’ve seen, he always seemed like the type of guy that made the right choice when needed. I think he’d be here." He couldn’t speak much on a man he never met, but if Logan was even a fraction like him then he would have been there. James had no connections to anyone who went missing, no personal stakes beyond his own life yet he decided to stay… Because it felt right.
Aria looked up at James then, face softening some. "You’re heroic enough to be here, if he was, I know that much. You saved me, anyways."
James noticed the way Aria’s face scrunched at the plain toast and hopped up from his seat. He made his way over to the fridge, opened it and scanned whatever shit was stocked inside. After a few seconds he pulled out some butter and grape jelly. He slid it across the counter toward her with a smile. "I know how much you like sugar," he mused playfully. He then opened a drawer, pulled out a butter knife and handed it to her. "Butter first… Then jelly. And not too much."
He turned around and searched the cabinets for two glasses. James was doing that thing where he busied himself to deflect and avoid talking about himself again. It was only going to work for so long but at least he could keep his gaze anywhere else. "I’m not a hero," he corrected her quietly as he set the glasses on the counter rather than the island so he could keep his back turned to her. "I was in the right place at the right time." He opened the fridge again and pulled out the jug of orange juice. "The only time I did anything heroic it lost me my family. I’m just…" He sighed. "Trying to survive."
She perked up at the sight of the jelly, it wasn’t marmalade but it was close enough that she wouldn’t be complaining anytime soon. Zaria diligently began spreading a moderate amount of butter on the toast, and then a more than generous amount of jelly onto it. She hummed to herself appreciatively after taking a bite, pausing as she listened to James open up about his family. She chewed slowly, contemplating what to say to him.
"A lot of people qualify as a hero, right? Doctors, police officers, the men who like to fight fires." Aria set down the half eaten slice of toast, giving James her full attention. "The thing is, a lot of those people, the people that claim that title, are convinced they’re going to change the world." She waved a hand through the air, as if she could wipe that idea from where it sat in front of her. "That is not impressive, I have heard my father complain of real heroes, and to me they are always a person fighting to just make one small difference."
Zaria smiled at him, nudging his ankle with her foot beneath the table. She knew what she said ultimately has next to no value, but it was the effort that counted. James was already a hero in her books, and it was sad for him to not see that. "Sounds like that’s what you were trying to do, I’m sorry you were punished for it."
James knew what she was doing. He didn’t agree. Aria’s impression of him being a hero all rested on a single instance where she happened to be the benefiting party. She was biased, only saw a tiny fraction of who he was or what he did. But he wouldn’t tell her any of that. He appreciated the effort and figured he could let her live in the ignorant bliss of thinking she swayed his opinions.
His gaze fell to where she stretched out her foot to bump his ankle. The small act made him chuckle softly as he looked over his shoulder at her before pouring them both a glass of orange juice. "Well," he started with a sigh as he put the jug back into the fridge. James picked up their drinks and slowly turned to face her with a tight lipped smile. "What’s done is done." He shrugged while passing off one of the glasses to her. He slowly made his way back around to the empty seat and sat back down. "I’m stuck with the consequences of my actions for… Well, forever." A defeated laugh escaped his lips before he took another bite of eggs.
Zaria’s brows furrowed, head tilting to the side in clear confusion. "The consequences being…losing your family? Or is there more?" She could tell from his drawn smile that he did not believe her, but Zaria was nothing if not persistent. She’d wear him down, and eventually James would see himself for what he was. He was here after all, wasn’t he? Nothing short of a hero would join a team like this. She paused at that thought, realizing that lumped her in with everyone else and their heroic titles, and inwardly grimaced.
Just as James didn’t believe he was a hero, she was under no illusions of what she was, what she could become. She had the genetic makeup of a villain, not of anyone good, not of someone like him. He had sacrificed so much to get to where he was now, and she only knew likely half of it. No, Aria would never be a hero, but James was. It figured, only a true hero would doubt themselves like he does.
James sighed knowing full well it was going to come up eventually. He supposed he’d rather come clean to Aria and hope that maybe his secret could remain that way… If, at least, for a bit longer. His jaw clenched as he inhaled a sharp breath though his nose, fingers anxiously tapping along the counter. "I… Sold my soul to Mephisto," he confessed, slowly looking over to meet her gaze.
She blinked at him slowly, and then, after a long pause— "Who the hell is Mephisto?" Zaria looked truly confused, wasn’t it the devil that usually took peoples souls? Though, if Judge was a demon…but that didn’t make any sense. James was just…being punished twice? He was the unwilling host of a demon, and he lost his soul? That was so fucked, she wasn’t sure who Mephisto was, but Zaria was certain he was an asshole.
"He’s a demon that parades around like Satan and makes deals with people for their souls. Very biblical… In a fucked up sense, I guess." James shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal, because at that point it wasn’t. He had been dealing with his reluctant co-pilot for over a decade. It was just… life for him at that point.
"Is…Judge, are you also unwilling?" Zaria was trying desperately to understand all the moving pieces. Judge wasn’t this Mepho man, so how did he end up in the mix? "What did you sell your soul for? I’m not judging, my father is a supervillain, I’m just…confused? Trying to understand." If they had both been forced into it, why couldn’t they just…huh. "Was it a written contract?"
"We’re both unwilling," the spirit answered before James could find the words.
"It’s a verbal contract." James sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My dad was the old Ghost Rider… It’s a mantle that I just happen to wield currently. He was dying from it and because he sold his soul, if he died he’d be damned to Mephisto’s hell. I made a new deal, against my family’s wishes, and became Ghost Rider to save my father from eternal damnation." He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the counter and cupped his hands together. "I didn’t get the same vengeance spirit shoved inside me but… The same rules apply."
Zaria leaned back in her chair until her back popped in three places, it was a lazy stretch that took a few long moments to complete. "He sounds like a real crusty bitch," she decided, settling her hands back into her lap. Her gaze was soft and sympathetic when it rested on James, but there was also something solidly resolute in her gaze. Whatever else she was thinking, she wouldn’t be fast to explain it all. "If you’re trying to convince me you’re not a hero, you’re failing."
James scoffed and shook his head before downing his glass of orange juice. "You’re only saying that because you’re on his good side." Once again he stood up but this time he started gathering dirty plates, stacking them neatly and carrying them over to the sink. He didn’t understand why Aria was so determined to try and convince him he was a hero. It was cute… For what it was worth, but it was unlikely to change his mind. But he had accepted he was the monster so no one else had to be a long time ago. It wasn’t a happy life and he was often lonely, but knowing his dad got to grow old made it worth it… Even if he never spoke to James again.
"Am I?" Zaria lit up like a Christmas tree, perking up in her seat as she grinned at both James and Judge. "I thought he got along with everyone, Judge is very charming." She recognized deflection when she saw it, but there was only so much she could do right now. Eventually, maybe James would believe her. She pushed up from the table, shoving her sleeves further up her arms as she followed James. "Do we hand wash them, or is there one of those washing machines?"
Something between a laugh and a snort slipped out before James could control himself. "Most people he talks to he makes piss themselves or gets extra satisfaction from tormenting me. But he seems to like you," he shrugged his shoulders before scrapping any food scraps into the trash. Maybe that was the trick, he let the spirit take full control, make friends, hell maybe even date while he’s at it. He shook his head at his own thoughts as he took a step back to scan the various cabinets under the counter. There didn’t appear to be a dishwasher but there weren't that many dishes anyway.
As James started rolling up his sleeves he noticed Aria doing the same. His brows rose curiously. "I was just going to wash them by hand." Was that something she had never done too? Most likely. An amusing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stepped to the side to make room for her.
Zaria saddled up beside him, leaning over to look down into the sink, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the dishes. It seemed…gross. She smoothed out her face though, hiding how she felt about this particular chore instead to focus on watching how James set about washing the dishes.
"I don’t know why he’d like me," she admitted softly after the silence stretched for a few long moments. She dipped a finger beneath the stream of warm water, letting a small swell of her powers rise to the surface. A thin, shimmering green dome formed around the tip of her finger, and the water bounced off of it, splashing against James’s shirt. She pulled her finger back quickly, the small shield of energy disappearing, and she cast a sheepish look up at him. "See? Not very likable."
James had made the stupid mistake of not paying attention to Aria as he dipped beneath the sink to find some soap and a sponge. The second he stood back up and looked at her, water leapt from the sink and splashed his shirt, leaving a wet spot along his sternum. His jaw dropped, the corner of his lips tugging into a stunned grin. His right hand slowly slipped into the sink as he spoke. "Maybe I should have left you behind in Pennsylvania." Then with a little flip of his wrist, James flicked water back at her with a devious glint in his eyes.
She laughed, but it turned into a gasp when the water splashed on her too. Her eyes narrowed, but…no, she could be the bigger person. She’d get him back when he least expected it, maybe tomorrow morning she’d wake him up with a glass of water. A devious smile twisted her lips, and Zaria rocked back on her heels. "You would be bored without me around." she waved a hand at him, turning around, back toward the table, where the jar of jelly sat, a greedy glint in her eyes as she went for the butter knife that had been left beside the jar. "Besides," Aria said conversationally, swiping the knife to scoop a generous glop of the jelly out. "I have it on good authority that Judge likes me." She plopped the scoop of jelly into her mouth, mirthful and happy.
"I’d definitely be sleeping without you around," he teased with a shake of his head. James slipped his hands into the water and started cleaning the dishes, but her impish grin actually made him panic slightly. His pace slowed as he watched her intently. His face contorted and grimaced as he watched her scoop out a large glob of jelly and eat it right off the knife. He wasn’t even shocked at that point, just concerned about her daily sugar intake. James leaned forward and grabbed the knife from her with drippy, sudsy hands. "That’s disgusting," he laughed as he tossed the utensil into the water. "Well, there’s your first problem, thinking I’m good authority."
"I can be sneaky," she quipped, pouting some as her treat was taken away. Zaria ran her tongue across her teeth, savoring the fleeting taste of sweet, sugary, grape goodness. She eyed the jar for a second, contemplating just using a finger to get more…but no, he’d never let her live that down. She let out a loud, dramatic sigh, and screwed the top back onto the jar. "It’s not gross, it’s delicious. Marmalade is better, I could eat an entire jar." She grinned at him, picking up her glass to drink the last bit of her juice before marching it over to the sink. "Did you know they make cookies with jelly inside them? And donuts, oh man…" she let out a soft breath, leaning with her back to the counter beside James.
"Can you?" he jested as he ran the sponge along one of the plates. Suds climbed up James’s forearms as he focused on cleaning the dishes and placing them in the rack next to the sink. He couldn’t say if he’s ever had marmalade or maybe he wouldn’t know if he had. Unless it came in one of the little packets to go on his toast at a diner, it was unlikely. It sounded like something rich people ate, which would make sense given Aria’s lifestyle versus his. James made sure he was careful not to get anymore water on her shirt as he reached around her and set a cup out to dry. "Big jelly enthusiast, huh?" he asked her with a side-eyed glance and a quirk of his brow.
"Probably," she hummed, deciding to be vague because she certainly planned to get him back when he least expected it. "I love jelly, my mom…she’d make it homemade, it was like her hobby. When I was younger she’d let me stand on a stool in the kitchen and watch her make us marmalade." A fond, sad smile had curled on Zaria’s lips. She’d spent a bulk of her younger days hiding away in the kitchen with her mother, though she’d never really retained how to make the jellies her mom had liked, but she liked to imagine that someday she could learn it all herself. She shook herself mentally, giving a small shrug to James. "Reminds me of her, I suppose."
He finished rinsing off the cleaned utensils and slid them into the drying rack’s little cup thing. He then reached back into the dirty bubbles and popped the drain. The only sound between them was the burbling of the draining water, followed by James washing his hands. He turned to rest his back against the counter beside Aria while drying his hands with a dish towel. "Strawberry poptarts," he added quietly while slowly looking over at her. "They remind me of my sister."
"...What is a poptart?" She may have ruined the mood a little bit, but it felt like a very valid question. It sounded…unpleasent, which with the context was rather confusing. "Tart, as in sour? My…brother likes sour things too, he used to eat lemons like apples. Peel and all."
"Oh my God," James sighed, burying his face in his hands. He was so wrapped up in her not knowing what a Poptart was that glossed over her comment about her brother entirely. "No. Not sour." He pushed off the counter and immediately started searching every cabinet in the kitchen. Of course not a single Poptart or equivalent to be found. "It’s… They’re like…" His face scrunched as he tried to find some way to describe them but every example he thought of would inevitably lead to more questions. "I’ll buy you some," he resolved like it was a problem that needed to be rectified years ago. "Your jelly loving ass will love them… Trust me."
"Does that mean we can go to the store?" Zaria brightened considerably at the idea, bouncing a little where she stood. She wasn’t entirely sure if they were allowed to leave the tower, but if she was James it would be safe. "I have a list of things I need, marmalade, sea salt, chocolate wine, tampons, nail polish, I’d kill for a store run. " Now, all she really wanted to do was to try one of these tart things, the idea that it wouldn’t be sour as the name suggested was all too tantalizing for her to not capitalize on as soon as possible.
"I…" James’s brows furrowed. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that it wasn’t the smartest idea. If they were seen somewhere public anywhere near the tower then it’d only take so long for someone to figure out where they all were. His expression fell slightly. "We can ask… But I imagine it’s more of a delivery service type deal."
Zaria suddenly looked absolutely mortified. "Am I going to have to ask the older gentleman to order me tampons? Oh, I might as well jump from your window now." She clutched at her heart dramatically, trying not to laugh. "I’ll never recover." She sighed, pushing away from the counter and lingering with uncertainty a few paces away. "What do you suppose we should do now? Maybe look in the armory?"
James laughed. "If a man freaks out at the thought of tampons then he isn’t much of a man," he replied. "If there’s no way to get what we want I’ll sneak out tonight and get you tampons and poptarts." He shook his head and watched as she took a few steps toward the exit. "I don’t really use weapons," he admitted with a guilty smile and a shrug. The Ghost Rider itself was a weapon and there was the whole mystical chain thing. Guns and knives felt kind of stupid compared to the other shit he could do.
He lightly crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head slightly. "You don’t have to babysit me, Aria. I’m not going anywhere. Promise." The last thing James wanted to do was make her feel like she needed to follow him around when there were other peoples’ company she’d likely enjoy more.
"You can’t sneak out alone," the words burst from her before she could even think through why she felt like that, but given a second of reflection she knew exactly why. "What if something happened to you? I wouldn’t know, and if you snuck out for something for me, and went missing, I…" She shook her head, thinking about how she’d insisted on having her own motel room the night Logan went missing. Most of the time they got one with two beds, but he snores like a chainsaw and she’d just wanted a night to herself. If they’d been together, then maybe…"I couldn’t forgive myself for that, so I’ll ask the grumpy man. It’ll be funny, anyways."
A little surprised by her panic, James pushed off the counter and took a small step toward her, holding out his hands like he was trying to calm a frightened animal. "Hey, ok. I won’t sneak out. Scout’s honor," he said while crossing his heart.
She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a touch defensive and unjustifiably scared at the notion of James slipping away without notifying anyone, and also confused on why she cared so much. "I was thinking less babysitting, and more hanging out, but I can catch you around lunch anyways." She offered a smile that was a smidge forced. "You’ll have to teach me how to make something else though, my culinary skills begin and end with scrambled eggs and toast."
James sighed, rubbing his neck as he realized he put his foot in his mouth… again. "We can hangout. I just…" his voice trailed off as he tried to find the words. "I know you have other friends and I don’t want you feeling like you have to waste your time with me because of yesterday. You don’t owe me anything, Aria." He wasn’t good at friends. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he actually had a friend. James enjoyed her company, probably a little more than he cared to admit but he wasn’t going to monopolize her time either. He was used to being alone. He could handle it… Even in a tower full of people.
"Yeah," he nodded with a faint smile. "Steak. I remember." James lightly tapped the side of his head. "But if you’re wanting to learn something fancier you might be better off asking Alfred. Steak is my fancy," he added with a quiet chuckle.
"I do need to track down Ronnie at some point," she admitted, feeling a little awkward and shy about that. "She slipped away this morning and I haven’t seen her since, I want to make sure she’s…uh, okay." Zaria’s cheeks were flushed some by the time she’d finished speaking, rocking a little on her heels. "But I wouldn’t say spending time with you is wasting my time, I know I don’t owe you anything. Spending time together is something friends do, silly."
It was still quite early in the morning, she had time to track down Ronnie, spending another hour or two with James wouldn’t hurt, but she also wasn’t going to force him to follow her around. She shrugged, a small smile set on her face. "Up to you, either way doesn’t have to be steak."
"Hmm," James mused with a lopsided smile as he made his way past her and wandered into the living room. He groaned like an old man as he lowered himself down to sit on the couch. He sunk deeper into the soft cushions and stretched out his legs, crossing them on top of the coffee table. "Go ahead, find your friend." After a second or two of looking, he reached across the sofa and grabbed the TV remote from the end table. He looked up at her with a reassuring smile. "I’m not going anywhere. Door’s always open." He actually didn’t know if it was even possible to lock people out when the elevators literally opened into their apartments, but even so, it’d be unlocked if there was a door.
Zaria laughed as he lowered himself down like he was eighty years old, giving him a mock salute. "Alright old man, I’ll swing by around eleven thirty, we can make lunch." She turned, already trying to think of where Ronnie could possibly be, before calling over her shoulder. "Bye Judge!" And grinning, knowing she was very likely the demon’s favorite.
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