A Turn of Events
"Good news!" Luna approached Jesse, who was setting up his space and getting comfortable. "Looks like he agreed to stay a while."
"That is good news," Jesse drawled, eyes dragging up to the model. His back was turned but he hoped he could still feel his gaze. "Tell him I said thanks."
"You can tell him yourself you know," Luna giggled, scooting chairs around. What was up with those two? They kept stealing glances at each other like they were teenagers! "He's standing right there."
"I suppose I can," Jesse trailed off, pulling out a cigar and lighting it in one fluid motion. He figured he'd join the rest of the class later and have a glass or two of wine while he painted to see what the hype was all about. He heard Luna disappear off into one of the side rooms and he let out a breath, looking up at the model again. "Thanks."
The model assumed the same pose he was in the previous day as he turned around and faced him, stilled from his electrifying observance. He was just a human, why did he have this effect on him? This time, he had on a black tee shirt that was completely tucked. 'No gun today?' He grunted in response, not yet wanting to speak to him. Why did he show up so early? If not to attempt to kill him, then what?
It was clear to Jesse that he wasn't going to be the one to break the ice, so it was all up to him to get the conversation started. He took a drag from his cigar, picking up where he left off on his painting. The silk draped across his body was a different color today. "Ya allowed to change colors like that?" He asked, wondering if he was going to keep getting the silent treatment.
The model didn't expect him to speak up again, however, he was glad he did. That deep drawl of his was enough to soothe him during many a restless night, which was even weirder because he'd never had such thoughts about a man before! This entire situation was strange! He knew how humans reacted to him, but it never affected him until now. He frowned inwardly, knowing once he spoke up, they'd be crossing a line they wouldn't be able to go back over. "I have not had anyone complain, yet."
Jesse stared up at him, not expecting his voice to be as nice as it was. With a slight accent, he could hear his wisdom and experience and wanted to hear more.
"Do I hear my first complaint?" The model asked, amused by his small look of shock.
"N-No! No complaints here," Jesse stuttered, looking back down at his canvas, a nervous wreck. Why did he feel like a teenager with a crush?!
"What side of me do you wish to see?" The model knew every artist had their own habits and strengths, and often painted different angles. Which one would the scruffy American choose?
"Stay just like that," Jesse looked back up at him, their staring contest a bit more intense than before. "Perfect…" he said through a plume of smoke, taking his brush across the canvas.
"What is your reasoning for showing up early and requesting I stay late?" The model couldn't help but ask about his intentions. He was never one for beating around the bush. He had the opportunity to speak freely since they were the only two in class at the moment, but that could change in a matter of minutes.
Jesse wasn't expecting him to ask that! What was he supposed to say? That he was interested in more ways than one? That he wanted to get him alone in a room so he could do unspeakable things to him? That wouldn't go very well. Instead, he had to come up with a lie and hope that it was convincing enough to satisfy him. "A guy can't perfect his craft?" He asked with a lazy grin.
The model's face darkened a shade, unwillingly being swayed by this man's charms. He'd asked himself this before and he'd ask it again; wasn't it supposed to be the other way around?! He turned his head, clearing his throat. "You do not have to make me stay longer than what I am paid for to perfect your craft."
"Yer the one who agreed, darlin'," Jesse winked at him, pulling that black silk from his body with his eyes. Only the heavens knew how badly he wanted to see the entirety of that tattoo and the chest it graced. "If ya don't wanna stay, who am I to keep ya?"
"Don't be preposterous," the model quickly said, cursing himself for speaking before thinking. Why was he so quick to stay when he knew very well what was at stake? What was so appealing about this stranger?
Jesse was about to speak up when a few people started to trickle into the class, chattering amongst themselves. He was glad he was interrupted; there was no telling how that conversation was going to go! Whatever he was feeling between them, the model was definitely feeling it too! Why else would he be coy with his words? He wanted to know his name.
The model stood stoically as students both returning and new-coming found their seats and got set up. It looked like he was the only model today, which made sense why he didn't see a handful of yesterday's students. Sometimes, he'd pose with another model, other times, he'd pose alone, preferring the latter. If someone had told him a year ago he'd be the subject in an underground art class, he'd threaten to stab them out of sheer disrespect! But even at the age he was now, he still learned something new about himself often.
He got off on attention.
However, it wasn't just any attention. The gaze cast upon him by the mysterious stranger set his blood ablaze and the inhuman part of him wanted to indulge in the most blasphemous of sins. He could only blame his current genetics on the impurity of his thoughts. The sad part about it was that this class was supposed to cleanse him of such notions. With nothing but people learning about art surrounding him, he assumed there would be no way he'd deal with the harsh realities of his existence.
Boy, was he wrong.
He glanced at the stranger, who was completely submerged in his work. He'd even joined the others in having a few drinks. He'd see a lot of people walk through that door, some with the gift, others that had to work for it, and even though this stranger didn't look it on the outside, he could tell the gift was there. He could do great things with his art… if he wanted to.
Jesse looked up after a while of focus, only to find the model staring directly at him as if he were looking into his soul! What was going through his head? He nodded at him as he took a drag of his cigar, and he would swear he saw him blush a little! He wasn't sure if that was the wine talking, but he sure couldn't wait to get him alone after class!
His phone buzzed and he set his brush down and pulled it out of his pocket, sighing in relief when he saw a text from Baptiste. 'Everything's all good. I'll tell you about it when you get home.' Well, that was a weight off! One less thing for him to worry about. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, thinking about the weight that was replaced with. Bailing on a job meant he had to go talk to the boss and explain why, and he definitely didn't want to get his ass handed to him alone! Maybe when he talked to Baptiste, he could bribe him to come along.
And as he made progress on his painting, time passed and glances were exchanged, and people began to thin out of the class. He hadn't even noticed how late into the evening it was!
"You've come a long way for it to only be your second day," Luna said aloud to Jesse while she cleaned up. "You're a natural."
"It does seem to come a little easier than I expected. It's a fun way to pass the time," Jesse admitted. He was only joking about finding a hobby, but it looks like the hobby found him.
"And a way to express yourself," she said, standing over his shoulder and studying his work. While messy, she could still see the pure passion worked into it. She could tell he was an ardent man, and she wanted to know more about him. "Such raw emotion," she said, picking up the canvas. "Are you sure this is your first time holding a brush?"
"Ain't gotta reason to lie," Jesse couldn't keep his eyes off the model, who was taking a short break to stretch and drink water. She wanted to talk about art? Well, he was the definition.
"Well, I hope to see you around for my next session," Luna picked up empty bottles and glasses, taking them off to one of the side rooms. This class was a big hit! She planned on working with pastels next, and she already made the money for all the supplies! It was her first time implementing alcohol into her classes, and she was a bit hesitant, but it all worked out well.
"You just might if life works out that way," Jesse said, leaning around his easel to watch the model. The way he was stretching let him catch a glimpse of his chest and he just about drooled. "God almighty," he muttered, polishing off the last bit of his wine.
"God has left the building," the model couldn't help but notice him ogling him like a piece of meat and was ashamed to admit he liked it. He shared with him his two cents, knowing whatever was brewing on Earth spelled nothing good. No reasonable god would allow it.
"Odd thing to say," Jesse drawled with a raised brow. He guessed it wasn't too odd for a being like him to feel that way, he just didn't expect something like that to be said out loud! 'What an interesting character.'
"Just my opinion, I suppose."
Jesse wanted to pick his brain and understand more about what he meant, but Luna was moving around the room, cleaning up and organizing furniture. It was one of those sensitive topics he'd want to discuss with him alone. Or that was just what he was telling himself to justify wanting to be alone with him.
"Alright, gentlemen," Luna said with a clap of her hands. She'd finished cleaning and had other engagements to attend to. "I shall take my leave now. don't forget to lock up when you're done," she said, glancing at the model before leaving. She'd left him there after hours before, and he'd always closed up shop so she figured she could trust him again. Plus, his studio was just a few floors up.
"Of course," the model said as the door shut, leaving the two of them alone at last. Why was he so eager to get this dangerous stranger alone? What could they possibly have to talk about? Even though he didn't seem to have the gun on him this time, it didn't mean he wouldn't try to apprehend him via other methods.
"Yer allowed to be left alone like this?" Jesse asked, facing his painting again and trying to keep his cool. What a stupid question!
"I have been left alone before," the model replied, getting back into his pose. Maybe he genuinely just wanted to paint. Though, every bone in his body was telling him he wanted more than that. "You are not the only one who wishes to 'perfect their craft.'"
"Somebody's got fans," Jesse joked, drawing his brush along the fabric. Why wouldn't people be interested in this work of art?
"If you must call it that," the model sighed wearily. How long would he be forced to stand there like this? What he said was true, he was the one who agreed to this nonsense, and he had no clue why.
"Got a name?" Jesse grunted out, refusing to keep referring to him as "the model" in his head.
"I do. Do you?" The model said, pressing his buttons on purpose. There was no way he was giving up his name first.
"Name's Jesse. Jesse McCree."
The name suited him. He sort of imagined him wearing a cowboy look, complete with the hat and all. He now had a name to put to the rugged, handsome American.
"Yer turn," Jesse saw the way he checked him out and it only made his ego swell. He picked up his cigar and let it hang from the corner of his mouth, focusing on his painting again. He was making good progress, but it was a long way from done. How long was this particular class again?
The model supposed it was only fair. "Hanzo," he answered, omitting his last name. Just because 'Jesse' was comfortable sharing his government name, didn't mean he had to do the same.
"Hanzo…" Jesse sighed out, liking the way his name fell out of his mouth. "Nice t'meet you, Hanzo."
"Enough with the pleasantries!" Hanzo barked out with a roll of his eyes. He had no intention of getting close to this stranger, no matter how friendly he may be!
"What? I was just sayin' how nice it is to finally put a name to the face," Jesse cheesed through a cloud of smoke. He was a feisty one!
"And why is that?" Hanzo huffed. "How long do you expect me to stand here like this?"
"Itchin' to leave? No one's stoppin' you," Jesse knew he wouldn't leave. Not after he agreed to stay.
"I am already here, there is no point in leaving now," Hanzo mumbled, trying to hide his blush. He was almost convinced Jesse was actually there to paint, but he couldn't be sure just yet.
"Thought so," Jesse chuckled. "So, how'd someone like you land a gig like this?"
"I do not see how that is any business of yours," Hanzo wasn't really fond of how chummy he was getting, but for some reason, he was easy to talk to.
"Just makin' small talk is all." What was the plan, here? Abandoning a job for what? Just because he thought he was cute? No, there had to be something more than that. He clearly wasn't a threat, so why did Talon want him dead? More than that, why was he so drawn to him? He studied the sloppy work he called a painting and wondered how he was able to even conjure it up. He'd never once placed a brush on a canvas, but the moment he laid his eyes on Hanzo… The more he watched him, the less he believed he was a demon but instead, a perfectly crafted angel sent from the heavens. Maybe he had the wrong guy?
Hanzo stood still in the semi-awkward silence knowing full well the ball was now in his court. As a good judge of character, he could easily tell this guy meant no harm, but who was he to determine that? He was more interested in the fact that he was equally into Jesse as Jesse was into him. Emotions like this were a foreign experience in his life, having been taught at a young age that they were trivial and would only hinder him.
Over the past handful of years, he had some time to look back on his life and reflect on his choices. Was obeying his father's orders worth it in the end? Was disregarding his own happiness worth it? He had no friends, there was very little if any love at all in his family, all he was put on this earth to do was take over the clan and rake people over the coals but look where that landed him. Living eternity in his own never-ending nightmare.
Perhaps if he played nice, he could convince Jesse to finish the job… if he even could.
"Silent type, huh?" Jesse was determined to get him to talk! He didn't get him alone just to paint! Well, now that he thought about it, he really wanted to finish it, but it would take more time than he was willing to give. What was up with his sudden desire to dabble in art? He rinsed his brush and dipped it in tan paint, finishing up the first layer of his form. What would this look like complete?
"I do not understand why you are so adamant about holding a conversation with me," Hanzo sighed, noticing him peer at his work and admire it silently. What kind of guy was he?
Jesse just looked at him with a smirk, two could play the silent game! Besides, the more he played along with his little game, the more he learned about him. So far, he knew that his name was Hanzo and that he was stoic with a light sense of humor. He was quiet, and his resting face, though beautiful, was always petulant and brooding. He knew his background was that of a dangerous one, or that he came from a dangerous family given the tattoo, and that he was most likely running from his past.
He also knew that he exuded pure sexual aura, and Jesse wasn't sure if it was that way for everyone or just him. He mentioned he had fans, but did those fans also want to eat him alive from just looking at him? It was driving him nuts! Was it the dry spell?
"I stumbled across this place a few years ago," Hanzo finally spoke, annoyed with himself for giving this fool what he wanted. Why was he even telling him this? What would he gain?
"So, you've been modeling for Luna for a while now," Jesse confirmed, pleased that he was finally cooperating. But it still didn't answer his question as to exactly how he ended up as a subject for people's art. "Suits ya."
Hanzo scoffed. What else could he do? It was the first offer presented to him, and even though he was against it at first, he grew to enjoy the peace it brought. He got to meditate in a comfortable environment, and people didn't really talk to him, so it was easy to keep to himself. It was true a few people requested extra time from him, but it was always only to paint, not to converse.
He wasn't expecting this time to be the same; there was something that stood out about Jesse from the moment he laid eyes on him. And when Luna told him he'd wanted to stay late, a small, very, very small part of him was excited. It was about time something in his day-to-day routine changed. "…I suppose."
"Yer a tough nut to crack, ain't ya?" Jesse mused, working on a background for his painting. He wanted to create a landscape, but there was no way he could paint what was in his head.
"There is nothing for us to discuss," Hanzo said stubbornly. "I am not looking to get to know anyone."
"But what if I was lookin' to get to know you?" Jesse knew he was taking a risk by being so forward, but what did he have to lose? Worst thing he could do was tell him to screw off!
"Why? There is nothing special about a being like me."
There was something sad about his words, and Jesse wanted him to see himself in a better light. "Now, don't you go gettin' all negative on me," he drawled.
"I am only being truthful," Hanzo was aware of his actions and knew he was scum of the earth. Why pretend?
"You say there's nothin' special 'bout ya, but all these people come from around to paint ya," Jesse said, fanning his brush in his direction
"I am just doing a job. It is only natural that people would flock," Hanzo rebut.
"Yeah, a damn good one." Jesse winked, going back to his painting and humming in approval. He was certain he was only able to fabricate it because of him, but how? 'And why?'
Again, Hanzo found himself… enjoying Jesse's praise and wanting to hear more of it. Unfortunately, hell would freeze over before he acted on it or admit it out loud! "…you flatter me."
"Oh, I can do a whole lot more than that, darlin'," Jesse grinned, purposefully saying things that would fluster him.
"Such as what?" Hanzo could play the game he was initiating! He knew what he meant but he wanted him to say it out loud. Would he bite?
"Why don't we let your imagination do the answerin'," Jesse was casual with his words, hoping he knew what he was implying.
"My imagination tells me you are nothing but trouble," Hanzo answered honestly. He didn't want to get tangled up with him because he knew once he did, there would be no turning back.
"An' what's that supposed to mean?" Jesse laughed. He liked their banter. What else would he like?
"It just means," Hanzo met his eyes, lingering for a moment longer than intended. "You are dangerous."
"I'm all types of dangerous, honey pie."
Hanzo's body warmed at his bold comment, the inner wirings of his brain and body dying to act on his impure thoughts. It was only a matter of time. "I wish you never stepped foot in this room."
"Whoa there," Jesse put his cigar down, amused at how hard he was protesting. "Don't fight me now. I don't mean no harm, an' I think you know that."
Hanzo squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. What he said came out harsh, but he meant it. Ever since he showed up, his mind had been elsewhere, and he'd been terribly distracted. It was also true that he was fighting it. As shameful as it was for a man his age, he was inexperienced at making personal connections, let alone an intimate one!
He knew he meant no real harm, and that he just wanted to get close to him, but why? What did he know? Why did he look at him like he wanted to eat him? Why did he like it? Jesse came off playful, yet firm, like he could get anything he wanted just with persuasion or just plain brute force. It piqued his curiosity. "You are a stranger. We have nothing to do with each other."
"Is that right?" Jesse stood up, inching toward him slowly. He couldn't control his legs! "Then why'd you agree to stay? An' don't give me none of that 'helping me perfect my craft' crap."
Hanzo's breath hitched as he got closer and checked him out like he was starving and looking at a four-course meal. He held his pose, eyes following his every move. Why was it that Jesse could see right through him?
"Be honest with yourself," Jesse eyed the silk, wanting to rip it from his body but behaving for now. Would he get a chance to act on his desires, or was this class just a painful tease?
"I am nothing but honest with myself," Hanzo declared as he got closer to him. He wasn't planning on snatching him up right there, was he? His heart began to race with anticipation. He was the only being on this planet that could get him worked up like this!
"Yeah?" Jesse walked around him, checking out any curve, any muscle, any piece of that tattoo he could see, just itching to feel him up.
"What do you want with me?" Hanzo asked gruffly, body temperature near boiling. "Why are you torturing me?"
"Heh. Torturin'?" Jesse was amused. So, he was feeling it, too. "I don't wanna torture ya, Han."
'Han?' Where did he get the comfort to come up with such an absurd pet name? "Then tell me what you want from me." He knew exactly what he wanted; it was written all over his face!
"I just wanna paint ya," Jesse reached for the silk, grazing it with the tips of his fingers. Soft and smooth. "Will ya let me?"
Even though he only touched the fabric, Hanzo could still feel the heat from his fingers and it set his blood ablaze. He'd spent his whole life keeping to himself just to get undone by some random guy. A guy! "You are already doing that, are you not?" He asked, continuing to hold his pose. He wasn't sure how the situation would change if he moved a single muscle!
"Yeah, but…" Jesse couldn't stop the words from escaping him as he stood behind him and leaned in, his breath on his ear. "Not here." What the hell was happening?!
'Curse my existence,' Hanzo thought to himself. The only thing he could do was try to push him away with his words and hope he'd leave him be. It was highly unlikely, but worth a try. "That is very forward of you. How do you know I am not a murderer?"
"Oh, I don't doubt that you are," Jesse droned, eyes skittering down his body. He was a demon for a reason, and his massive tattoo told him he wasn't anyone to be trifled with, but… "I think I'll take my chances."
Hanzo sighed. Of course, he would say that. He was done for, wasn't he? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps if he was forced to live for eternity, he could change a few things here and there, like making a friend… or whatever it was Jesse wanted to be.
"So, what d'ya say?" Jesse stood in front of him, a shit-eating grin on his face.
"You would risk meeting the edge of my blade or the tip of my arrow?" Hanzo asked, giving away a little more personal information about himself than he wanted.
"It only sounds like a good time to me!" Jesse chuckled, cocking his head to the side. So, he was some sort of expert swordsman or archer. Interesting. "Gonna hold that pose forever?"
"Do you not wish to paint any longer?"
"I actually wanna finish the thing," Jesse pulled his stool up and sat directly in front of him, staring up at his face. He was so nervous, it was hilarious! No matter how stoically he presented himself, Jesse could tell.
"And you think you will accomplish that by invading my personal space and staring into my soul?" Hanzo could smell his musk mixed with cigar smoke, and it made him weak in the knees. Why was he sitting so close?! And why did he want him closer?
"Would ya hate it if I said yes?" Jesse tested the waters, reaching cautiously for the hand he had resting on his knee. Could he touch him and get away with it?
Hanzo saw him reaching and felt inclined to let him get a feel. Why? He hadn't the foggiest idea, but what was the worst that could happen? "I… would not."
Jesse took his opportunity to touch his fingers, shocking him lightly with static. Funny, he must have gathered some up incidentally. That, or there was some significant electricity between them! He let out a short laugh. "Sorry 'bout that."
Hanzo closed his eyes as Jesse laid a hand atop his. How cliché was it for that to happen? Seriously! It was as if life was just throwing it in his face! It was clear to him that there was something between them, but he couldn't foolishly act on it! "I knew you were trouble."
"What's wrong with a little trouble every now and then?" Jesse stood up and invaded his space a little more. He wasn't sure why he felt like a wild animal trying to claim his prey, but he liked being up close and personal enough to get a whiff of his cologne, subtle and earthy and suiting him nicely. "Besides, I'm not the one who's trouble."
That got Hanzo's attention. He whipped his head, staring up into easy brown eyes and a lot closer to him than he expected. He had a few extra inches of height over him and it annoyed him. "You…!" he couldn't finish his thought, not with that smug look on his face! He all but verbally confirmed he knew what he was, which explained his gun. The gun he… didn't have this time.
"So, Hanzo," Jesse held his chin with his thumb and index finger and looked down into a steely gaze, keeping him focused. "Can I paint ya?"
Having Jesse alone in an intimate space only set off alarms in his head. Whether they were good ones or bad ones, he was still deciding. "Not today," he mumbled, turning his head with a rose blooming on his cheeks.
"What was that?" Jesse heard him loud and clear, he just wanted to tease him! "I couldn't hear ya."
"Not…!" Hanzo looked at him again, stilled by his commanding yet safe energy. "…today," he finished, his voice small. He was putty in his hands and they both knew it.
"Then tell me when, darlin'. I got nothin' but time."
"An angel? Really?" Jesse asked in amusement, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and chugging his beer. He wished he was somewhere else, feeling up a certain model right about now!
"Not just any angel, a guardian angel. Mine." Baptiste clarified with a proud grin, following suit and kicking his feet up. "Nobody else's."
It was late into the evening, and Jesse and Baptiste sat on the couch in their living room, drinking beers and leaving the television on in the background as they caught each other up on the details of their jobs.
"An' didja confirm that?" Jesse asked, his mind only in one place, on one being. It was a miracle he was able to hold a proper conversation with anyone else!
"I mean, I didn't ask him directly, but I think it's a safe assumption," Baptiste said, taking a swig. "He's so beautiful, Jesse. I can't wait to see him again."
"He ain't prettier than Han, I guarantee it," Jesse hummed, imagining his hands all over that muscular body. He wanted to take his tongue and drag it along every inch of that tattoo, top to bottom. "Damn…" he muttered, lost in his thoughts.
"You need to get laid!" Baptiste guffawed. He could see all over his face how badly he wanted to get in that demon. He hadn't seen him this bothered in ages! He must have been a real looker.
"Oh-ho-ho~" Jesse laughed lasciviously, polishing off his second beer. "I'm gettin' to that real soon!"
"Oh, yeah? He's going to let you take a bite?" It only left Bap wondering how soon he could have a piece of his angel. Though, he fought with himself internally about whether it was right to make a move on him. He was an angel for goodness' sake! But when he thought about how clingy they were with each other and the comments they made, he was confident he wouldn't reject him. Screw it! He only lived once, right? And if it was a bad thing, he was sure his lotus would stop things before they got too heated.
"This Friday," Jesse replied, his mind running rampant with all the ways he wanted to take him. "He ain't gonna know what hit 'em."
"So, you're going to attend that class until it's over? Never would have guessed." Bap never saw Jesse as the artsy type, but situations changed people. He thought about how he would change in the future now that he had an angel on his shoulder.
"Hell yeah! I wanna finish that paintin'!" Jesse declared. "With a muse like that… I feel like I could paint anythin', as long as he's in it."
"Crazy how a demon can have a positive effect on you," Bap said, flipping through channels. "Speaking of, what are you going to tell the boss?"
"Ah… I was actually kinda hopin' you would tag along, y'know, since you're abandonin' yer job too, an' all."
"I had the same idea at first," Baptiste said, remembering Niran didn't really agree with that idea. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "But I think I need some time alone to think."
"You ain't foolin' me, Baptiste!" Jesse knew him better than he thought he did! "Yer angel wants to tag along with you, don't he?"
"Heh, caught me," Bap raised his hands in playful defeat.
"Exactly how much does he know?" Jesse inquired, a raised brow.
"Pretty much everything," Bap responded coolly, picking up another beer and popping the cap off. "He wasn't specific, but I'm sure he knows," he passed the beer over to him.
"Well, you're gonna hafta go soon," Jesse leaned back onto the couch, resting his arm on the back of it. "I'm technically still workin' mine, so I got time."
"Yeah, I know," Bap groaned. He had a hunch this was some super important intel, so he was mentally preparing for the worst. "I might get fired."
"Nah, he ain't gonna fire ya, yer too good at what you do. Probably just a slap on the wrist."
"Maybe he won't fire me, but I'm sure as hell going to get a lot more than just a slap on the wrist," Bap shook his head. "I kind of want Niran to come with me for the emotional support."
"Oh yeah, what did he mean by savin' you an' whatnot?"
"I don't know, we didn't get that far into the topic." Bap had been wracking his brain trying to figure out what he meant, but he couldn't think of anything he needed saving from. He did have his reservations about the corporation he worked for, but who really liked their job?
"Huh," Jesse nodded, directing his attention to the television. "Ain't this a crazy turn of events."