blowfish | IC CONTACT

[ Good thing Jesse caught this, or it would've disappeared into the abyss of missed calls and voice messages never recorded. He sees the little image of Gus' face embedded into the screen when he picks his phone out of his pocket, instantly recognizable. Oh shit.

Chills run down his spine and shock keeps him from answering immediately. For a long moment, that's all that he is-- thunderstruck. It's been a fucking long time since he had to even think about all the problems that he left behind. His hands are a little shaky when he flips the device open to answer. He shuts his eyes on hearing that voice, on hearing certain confirmation that Gustavo Fring has shown up in Haven.

Newly arrived. While listening, he mouths a quiet Jesus to himself, followed by an inaudible curse. ]

Thirty-seven?

[ Double-checking serves the purpose of triple-checking that it's really him. A small tendril of hope weaves its way through his shock-- if Gus is here, maybe... ]

You alone?

[He's plenty surprised, too: not that he'd show it. (Waking up in an apartment, to the footfalls of some stranger-- he'd feigned sleep, played as nicely as he had to-- that much was unexpected to say the least, and nothing compared to Haven as a whole.

He doesn't remember being drugged or kidnapped. A phone, not counting what Yao'd given him, isn't on him. Cut off from resources, he only has his wits.

And, of course, Jesse Pinkman.]

I am. [stated simply.]

I'll see you soon. [He hangs up, and waits.]

[ Gus gives him no room to back out, and was there any reason to think it would go any other way? No. Gus is (allegedly) alone, waiting for him in a housing block, and it's more dangerous to ignore him than it is to confront him. Jesse doesn't even have time to debate this. He goes.

He knocks and waits at the door, cautiously. No billion-dollar drug industry between him and his boss here. The boss, but he kinda feels like his old boss is treading on his new turf. ]

Hey. [ Well, no question that it's him. His focus is on Gus and nothing else, and as much as he tries to act unbothered, he's like a stray stepping into a room with people. Any sudden moves or noises are liable to set him off. ] Just arrived? Exactly how long you been here?

[ Be cool, be cool. ]

Edited 2014-10-24 04:59 (UTC)

[He welcomes Jesse inside with a nod, and with a cursory glance around the area, he pulls the front door shut.]

A few hours. [His eyes are as focused on Jesse as Jesse's are on him, a fact which he notes: there should be no reason for apprehension on Jesse's end, and yet...

There's no malice or harshness to Gus' tone-- only something detached and businesslike, as if this were any other meeting in that little trailer back home. (No vegetables and dip this time, though.) He walks past Jesse and further into the living room. His back's turned for only a few seconds before he turns back and smiles, but only just.]

But please: have a seat. [He'd pull a chair out for him if there was one, but instead, he takes a seat on the couch and makes a motion for Jesse to sit beside him.]

[ Only a few hours. Jesse keeps an eye on Gus, but he does a quick sweep of the room too. It could be a lie. If it's a trap, he already screwed himself. He meets that faint smile and gives a faint nod in return. It's surreal. What's his last memory of Gus? It's been so goddamn long he has to backtrack to remember it.

They were outside that diner, Mike was waiting inside. He returns to the present and takes a seat on the couch. Jesse sinks down slowly, still wary. He's heard the stories about this happening to others in Haven, but it never happened to him before and he was starting to think it never would.

He raises an eyebrow at Gus. ]

You must be, uh, confused. [ Not that he'll show it, but that's typical. ] If you got questions, I been here a while.

[For his part, Gus remembers Mexico, and he remembers Jesse's success: he's not any less wary than Jesse is, simply due to the territory, but he does know that Jesse is reliable enough. For his purposes, anyway.]

I've heard a good deal of the basics, but if there is anything else that you feel I should know, I'd be eager to hear it.

[There is a faint, restrained smile.]

[ Eager to hear it. Right. No direct questions about Jesse's stay in Haven, just an open floor. In a couple of hours, he got the entire run-down? What's he been doing, sitting around, silently listening to the network? ... right. ]

So... you know that we're screwed. [ Deadpanning the most important part. ] I mean, that's the biggest take-away here, right? Like, key facts.

[ Regardless of their history together, they're in the same unfortunate predicament. Jesse sits up. Same as back home, there's an underlying listlessness about the future that he has, one that he strews about like it's his greatest defense.

He watches Gus. He gives his bold opinion: ] You won't join 'em. Nothin' big to be gained from working with these people. Hell, they don't even see us as people.

I appreciate the attention to detail you've given in your account. [Gus answers, tamely.

And Jesse is right. More than he has a taste for, actually, particularly in a place where the valuable weight of information does not fully rest in his hands. He's wandering around in the dark as much as Jesse is, and Gus very, very much dislikes operating in the dark: guessing at others' actions, taking unnecessary risks, working on conjecture and educated guess alone.

It's unpredictable. It has never done him any favors.

He can, however, predict Jesse Pinkman.]

I see no real purpose to enlisting with Yao. [right now, anyway. if there's ever a distinct advantage that presents itself, endearing himself to Jesse again will take a little less precedence.] Are you acquainted with any of the resident employees?

Edited 2014-12-11 12:41 (UTC)

IC CONTACT

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject