victormakesart | (no subject)

Jack is still a bit amused by the primitive technology that is text messaging, but he responds to the summons in decent enough time, swooping in and giving Victor a kiss on the cheek. "You rang, my dear?"

She kisses his cheek back, fluttery-gentle; she's trembling a little, her palms are clammy, and her heart feels like it's half an inch away from leaving her chest. She presses the enter button and the sound of the doctor's office fills the room, grainy and echoey. "You're on speaker!"

"The test was positive," he says.

She feels so happy that she thinks she's probably going to die right here. She's sure that there have been real life cases of people dying of happiness. Somewhere in the multiverse, that had to have happened. "Oh my..." she says faintly.

Jack's cool as a cucumber by contrast, he's done this before, though not under such primitive conditions. "I told you it would be," he says with a brilliant smile, and tousles Victor's hair.

"Thank you, thank you!" Victor squeals, and then, "is there anything else you've gotta tell us?"

"Just that we can start the gene therapy."

"Thanks, bye!" and she launches herself at Jack and kisses his cheek, his chin, his forehead. "Thank you, thank you, oh my gosh, thank you!"

He puts his big old bearhuggy arms around her, always glad for an opportunity to touch people. He's a very huggy sort of guy. And, of course, if Victor wasn't Victor there might be some groping, but he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. It's no fun unless everyone is into it. "Don't thank me just yet, we've got more than a couple months to go."

Victor's a lot harder to make uncomfortable nowadays as long as clothes stay on; she's gotten rather used to grabby-hands. Another massive smooch for his cheek, an extra-big squeeze. "Still! First step!"

Jack's not quite as over-the-moon about it as she is, but he's happy for her, and he did volunteer. It's just too bad he can't time travel through the gestation. "Guess this means no drinking for a while."

"I'll give up coffee with you," Victor offers. "I'd give up drinkin' but I didn't drink to start with."

"You don't have to do that, but thanks. It shouldn't be too hard for me... I haven't made a habit of it since I lost my regular drinking partner." He doesn't say 'lost' in the way that usually means 'dead,' just that they don't hang out together anymore.

"It's okay, I don't mind doin' that. Honestly, I'd feel better if I gave something up... you're doing all the hard work."

"Hey, you do whatever makes you happy. I'm not gonna complain."

She laces his fingers with her, give his hand a squeeze, and pulls that hand up to kiss his knuckles. "Is there anything special I can get you?"

Jack's first instinct is to flirt, because of course it is. "Anything special, huh?"

"Sure!" Victor chirps, reaching out to wrap an arm around his waist. "Of course!"

Jack gives her a smooch, though because it's Jack he doesn't mean anything by it, it's just saying hello. "Why don't we go out for... something? Are there any good ice cream places around?" He tried the frozen treat once when he, Rose, and the Doctor stopped off at an early 23rd century colony world and it made quite the impression on him.

A little smooch right back! And because Victor's generally really affectionate with people she's fond of, she doesn't mean anything strange by it. "Yes! There's this place in the Nexus that serves glow-in-the-dark strawberry!"

It doesn't occur to her that he might be asking about here-here.

"I was kind of hoping to get to know the neighborhood a bit better," Jack says with a grin, to take any edge off Victor's inevitable self-flagellation for misunderstanding. He wasn't entirely clear, after all.

"Oh!" she chirps, sheepishly, her face heating a little, but she manages not to apologetically spazz out of her skin.

It's good to step out of your comfort zone sometimes. Outside on this world, without her mask, is way out of her zone. And with Jack and her unborn baby!

But she takes a deep breath, reminds herself not to be a paranoid shut-in. That's how supervillains are made.

"I, uh, I actually don't know many places around here, but Cole told me about a fro-yo place where you put your own fruit and candy in it and stuff."

"What's fro-yo?" Jack asks, trying not to sound clueless. But hey, he doesn't know, and you never learn until you ask. He's not embarrassed by his ignorance of twenty-first century slang... he's picked up a fair bit from Rose, but 'fro-yo' is a new one on him.

"It means 'frozen yogurt.' It's like ice cream but I guess the process of making it's a little different?" She scurries this way and that, looking for a good way to make herself invisible in a crowd. A big bowler hat, sunglasses.

"That makes sense." The only 'fro' he could think of is an ancient Earth hairstyle, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why you'd put candy and fruit in your hair.

Edited 2013-03-21 23:47 (UTC)

While a hair 'fro-yo' would be strangely delightful, no, it's not that sort of place.

Quickly, Victor checks her hands. The only noticeable scar there is on her palm, so she just needs to make sure to keep that one hidden; she doesn't need to wear gloves. "I think it's in walking distance."

"I'm up for a stroll," Jack says, flashing a smile and showing off those pearly whites.

Victor nabs the nearest cane, simple and black, nothing too flashy, and wraps a scarf around her neck (red and floral, to cover up her throat scar). "Me too!"

Jack needs to do nothing to prepare, since he is always at his most fabulous, and offers his arm to his very dear friend. And, of course, since it's Jack doing it, he holds no expectations that she somehow needs his support to get around, it's just for the sheer human comfort factor of being with another person and going out together. Touching is his drug of choice.