I DO NOT OWN BLINDSPOT OR JOHN WICK. SHOUTOUT TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED.
FACE CLAIMS
BLANCA GUEVARA- NAYA RIVERA
John Wick's House. Mill Neck, New York. A few days later.
The trip to the Wick estate was a calm one, as to be expected. When John and Jane touched down in New York City's JFK airport, it was always a bit somber for Jane; having to be in the city where her life had been reset. Her team, the people that she loved more than anything were in this city, but she didn't dare go to them. They would want her to go back to the FBI; back to Kurt. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't. That life was over, Jane had made her bed with the High Table and now she had to lie in it.
After they made it through customs, John led Jane out to the parking lot where his prized 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1 was waiting exactly where John had left it. As John unlocked the car, Jane saw that there was a piece of paper on the inside of the front window with J. Wick written on it.
"Why did you write your name out like that?" Jane asked as she got inside.
"Car insurance." John replied simply as he too got in and started up his car. Jane knew what he meant. The mustang would have been an irresistible catch for a carjacker; had it belonged to anyone other than Death's Own Emissary. It was common knowledge that there was no car on planet Earth that was worth the wrath of John Wick. A thief would be better stealing the from the President of the United States than from Baba Yaga; because at least if you stole from the President, there was still a chance that you could come out alive. With John though, there was zero chance; zero.
As John pulled his prized car out of the parking lot and onto the highway, he could tell that Jane was uneasy. He knew some of her past, but not all of it. All he knew was that someone had put a bounty on her head and that she had walked away from everyone she ever cared about so that they wouldn't be collateral damage. John wasn't going to pressure Jane into talking about her past if she didn't care to do so. After all, he expected the same from her. However, if she needed a listening ear, John would not refuse.
"I'm curious...what kind of house does Baba Yaga live in?" Jane asked in a teasing fashion.
"It doesn't have turrets or a moat if that's what you are envisioning." John replied with a nearly invisible smirk as the mustang continued to move down the highway. After almost an hour or so, the couple arrived in the village of Mill Neck. It was quite a small village indeed with only a little under a thousand people living within it.
"So, what do people in this town think that you do for a living?" Jane inquired as she watched the Main Street roll by. In a small town like this, everybody knows everybody else and there was only so much that John could keep hidden in a place like this.
"When it comes up, I've told them that I'm a political lobbyist for Pfizer." John answered as Jane was caught off guard.
"You tell people that you work for a pharmaceutical company?" She asked in amusement.
"It seemed normal enough while explain why I'm gone so much." He shrugged as he pulled into the driveway of his impressive & expensive looking 2 story house. "The people of Mill Neck believe that I spend my days kissing the ass of every politician in New York City and Washington D.C. to give Pfizer some political clout over their Big Pharma rivals. Thankfully, people don't ask too many questions about it."
"This is a nice place." Jane remarked as she got out of the car to admire casa del Wick. One of the most attractive elements was how the house wrapped around a court yard on 2 sides and a privacy wall enclosing such and separating it from the parking court; not to mention the beautifully cherry and magnolia trees it encompassed.
"It's a bit too spacious for me, but Helen loved it." John replied as he parked his mustang in the garage. Jane was caught off guard because John rarely talked about his dead wife. All that Jane knew was that she had died of cancer and that it had devastated the assassin beyond all reason. As the 2 headed inside, Jane was surprised to see a pretty young Latina woman mopping the living room floors. She looked up as she heard the door open and smiled at the pair.
"Mr. Wick, I didn't expect you to be home so soon." The young woman remarked.
"The plane got in a few minutes earlier than expected." He replied as he set his things down before looking at the 2 women in his house. "Blanca, this is Jane Weller: an associate of mine. Jane, this is Blanca Guevara: my house keeper."
"It's so nice to meet you!" Blanca exclaimed with a smile as she put the mop down and offered her hand to Jane.
"Same, I didn't know that John had a housekeeper." Jane replied with a chuckle as she shook the woman's hand.
"She's mainly here to watch Daisy when I'm out of town. When I'm here, I can cook and clean myself." John assured Jane with a nonchalant look.
"By the way, Daisy just had her lunch and we played a few rounds of tennis." Blanca said with a giggle.
"I'm sure that she appreciates it." John said with a small smile.
"Who is Daisy, do you have a daughter or something?" Jane asked in confusion as the hit man chuckled.
"Something like that." John replied as he let out a quick whistle. The tattooed woman heard the pitter patter of small feet before a small beagle came out behind the corner and rushed into the arms of Death's Own Emissary. John held the creature close as he petted her ears and allowed the dog to lick him.
"This is Daisy, come and meet Jane." John said as he put Daisy in her arms.
"She's a cutie, isn't she?" Jane asked in delight as she cuddled with the beagle.
"Blanca, could you please prepare the guest room? Mrs. Weller is going to staying with me for a few days." Mr. Wick requested.
"No problem." Blanca replied as she went to get the room ready for Jane.
"You don't strike me as a dog lover." Jane giggled as the 2 bonded over cuddling Daisy.
"She was a final gift from Helen...so I didn't have to grieve alone." John replied solemnly as he planted a kiss on Daisy's head.
NEXT TIME, THE LADIES TALK. REVIEWS NEEDED AND APPRECIATED