It had been an entire week since I had moved into this glass penthouse overlooking Hell's Kitchen. I missed Manhattan. I wanted to go back to the tower. Instead, I had to pretend I was under the control of someone else. I hope you know what you're doing, Loki.
"Jessica," a voice called out, "Come here, darling."
I got up from my chair in the kitchen and sat next to him in the living room, "You called me Jessica again, sir."
"I did, didn't I?" he cringed, "I'm sorry. I really don't mean to."
"Was she the last one?" I asked, taking a huge leap, "Before me?"
"Slap yourself."
I whipped my hand across my own face. I could hear Loki screaming in the back of my head, beating himself up for even putting me in this situation. The stinging on my face began to set in, "I'm sorry…"
"No," he caved, "I am. You should know better than to ask about my past. There are three people you know I don't like to talk about. She is one of them."
"I really am sorry, though," I cuddled into him, trying to make up for my transgression.
"Tell me you love me."
"I do love you," I admitted.
"Am I the only one?"
"Of course."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not," I nuzzled in closer, "I love you, sir. And only you."
"That's my good, little girl," he brushed the hair out of my eyes, "You're so beautiful. Did you know that?"
"No," I said, really turning up the theatrics, "I've never seen myself as beautiful."
"Well," he drawled, "You should. Now, come along. We have work to do."
"What shall I do, sir?" I asked, looking up at this beautiful sociopath. In a way, I saw a lot of my one, true master in him.
"I want you to hire a private investigator," he grinned darkly, "Create some whiny bullshit sob story. This particular P.I. is so desperate to be the hero. I want you to tell her you're looking for your boyfriend Kevin. He's gone missing and you want her to find him. Lead her back here, but don't look too obvious."
"Yes, sir," I gave him a kiss on his cheek and got up from the couch. I knew who he was going to have me hire.
The frosted glass said Private Investigation on it, just like he said. A man stood in the hallway, looking like a recovering junkie. I could see it all over his face. And he was very skeptical of me. Everything was in place, just like he said. I knocked on her door.
"Who is it?"
"I'm looking for Jessica Jones," I called out, "Please. I need help."
The door cracked open, "How can I help you?"
"Please," my voice broke, "My boyfriend went missing. He's all I have. Please. Help me."
"Who referred you to me?" she asked, sharing in the former junkie's skepticism, "Was it a tall, well dressed British man?"
"No," I shook my head. This was his Jessica…
"Who?"
I knew he was watching somehow. As discreetly as humanly possible, I pulled out my SHIELD badge, "I don't think you need to know who referred me."
"Come in," she opened the door to me, "I hope it's ok if I ask you some questions first."
"Go ahead," I sat down on her futon. Definitely could stand an interior decorator, but I could get on board with the whole minimalist vibes going on.
Jessica jumped up on her desk and poured herself a drink, "You want one?"
"No, thank you," I shot her down, "I tend not to drink before three in the afternoon."
"Me either," she drank, "Now, have you ever met a man calling himself Kilgrave?"
"No," I lied, taking a piece of paper from a legal pad laying on the coffee table.
Yes.
I slid the paper toward her, "Is he the one who referred you to me?"
"I don't know who this Kilgrave is," I kept up the performance as she passed the note back to me.
Is he controlling you right now?
He likes to think he is.
Jessica looked me over in a state of confusion, "How?"
I slipped her the paper again, I'm protected by someone much more powerful than Kilgrave.
"Who…?"
He's listening, Jessica. You're asking too many questions.
Does he have eyes on you?
No.
Who's protecting you?
"My boyfriend," I stirred up some fake tears, "Kevin…"
"Kevin," I could see her heart stop. She knew who Kevin is. She knew what my being here was.
"Yes," I nodded, taking the paper back from her, I'm working for SHIELD. We'll be taking Kilgrave as our prisoner very shortly. I've been with him for the past week.
"You poor, poor girl," Jessica pitied me, taking the paper, How are you immune to Kilgrave's power? How can SHIELD protect you from his virus?
"Thank you," I wiped my eyes, picking up the pen, That's classified. Minimum level seven clearance.
"Where did you last see him?" Jessica asked, What level are you?
"He was home," I told, Level eight. Practically Avenger level.
"Does he have any favorite hangouts?" Are you an Avenger?
"A couple restaurants. The pub down the street from our penthouse." No. I just know them all. I don't have any powers or Stark's money.
"I'll start looking," Jessica took my hand, "Don't worry. If there's anyone in this city that can find your boyfriend, it's me."
Bring that son of a bitch down.
I threw my arms around her, "Thank you, Jessica Jones. Thank you for everything."
That was the plan.
"Hey," she stopped me on the way out, "If you need anything, call me, ok?"
"I will."
I left Jessica's apartment and walked down to the café on the corner where Kilgrave was holed up, waiting for me. He sat in the back away from general population to keep from drawing attention to himself. I sat next to him.
"There you are, darling," Kilgrave put his phone down, "How is Ms. Jones?"
"Fine, I guess."
"Did she take the bait?" he wondered.
"Hook, line, and sinker," I reported, "Did I do good, sir?"
"Yes, my dear," Kilgrave traced his finger along my jaw, "You did very good. What kind of tale did you spin for her?"
"How Kevin's the love of my life," I told, "How he's all that I have. He's my everything. That sort of thing."
"Perfect," he praised, "Any sort of theatrics?"
"I can cry on cue," I bragged, "It came in handy."
"You, my dear," Kilgrave cradled my face in his hands, "are incredible. Where did you send her?"
"A couple of restaurants and the bar down the street from our place," I sat in his lap, "Everything's coming together so nicely."
"Shall we go get a drink?"
"Yes, please."
I could use a drink anyway. I wonder how Kilgrave would react to Asgardian mead. Thor said it wasn't meant for mortal men. I bet he'd be off his ass for a while. The mere notion made me giggle a bit.
"Did I miss something?" he wondered, looking at me like I was on drugs.
"It's nothing," I brushed it off, "Just a flashback to when I was in college."
"You were in college?"
"A long time ago."
"What did you major in?" Kilgrave asked, drinking a gin and tonic.
"Literature."
"Recite me some poetry, darling. I'm sure you know something good."
"Alright," I started on my favorite poem, "Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush. Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die."
"That was beautiful," Kilgrave brought me closer to him, "What was that?"
"Mary Elizabeth Frye," I smiled, "It's a personal favorite."
"A little melancholy, if you ask me," he shrugged, "But a beautiful sadness. Why do you like that one so much?"
"It offers a strange comfort," I explained, "It reminds me of reincarnation. How we're all a part of something so much bigger than ourselves."
"I can see that," Kilgrave pulled me onto my feet, "You look tired, darling. Let's go home."
"Ok," I took his hand as he led me out. I was actually quite tired. I could use a good, solid twelve hours of sleep. Sticking around with Kilgrave was exhausting. I didn't understand why he wanted me sleeping in a separate bed. He told me he loved me and told me to tell him I loved him, too. Why wouldn't he want me to hold at night? Not that I'm complaining. It gave me time to touch base.
"Hello, my sweet," a familiar voice boomed on the other end as soon as I was one hundred percent sure that Kilgrave was out for the night, "How are things?"
"He's tried compelling me," I reported, "Of course, it didn't work. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he spoke softly, "I miss you."
"I miss you, too," I smiled, "I'll come home soon. I really hate this whole being bait thing."
"Soon enough," Loki assured, "Call me if you need anything."
"I will."
"I love you."
"Love you, too, baby."
Click.
I got back in bed and went to sleep. All I needed was Loki's voice to pull me under. I remembered him reading me "Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep" one night when I wasn't feeling too hot. I missed him...
Soon, my love...Soon.