Revolutionary

AU Timeline: This takes place after Jackson’s resurrection, after Hayley’s death, but before Hayley’s resurrection. Jackson is a widower.

“I’m going out, whether you like it or not, with or without you.  I’m tired of being hidden away.  I need to get out.” Davina’s strong will was persistent to the point it annoyed Jackson at times.  An admirable trait, albeit annoying.  His brows were furrowed with frustration, “It’s ‪11:30 p.m.‬ Dav, the only things open past midnight are legs and Walmart.”  Her laughter only served to taunt him more. “Nuh uh, Bourbon Street never closes.”  Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose knowing it was going to be a long night.  He didn’t mind being in the city, but he avoided Bourbon Street for the tourists and the stench of piss, puke and stale spirits.  Not to mention, he and sleep were lovers and since Vincent had asked him to keep Davina safe for a while, he and sleep were having a lovers’ quarrel.  “I told you Jackson, you don’t have to go.”  “I can’t let you go alone Davina.  I made a promise to Vincent that I intend to keep.  If a man can’t keep his word, he has nothing.” “Then I guess you better change, because you’re not coming out with me looking like… that.” Davina gave him a once over, his features displaying an expression of repulse.  “You’re right Dav.  What was I thinking?  Let me go get my overalls…”  “Wait! No! Never mind, you’re fine.  The flannel is… fine.”  Jackson smirked at her, at least having won that small victory.

How did he get roped into this?  Oh right, because Vincent resurrected him turning him into Jesus Christ of the Bayou.  Jackson owed the regent a debt of gratitude, but babysitting a sassy, sexy, little witch was a bit much.  Wait… did he just think sexy?  The f***?  No.  He stewed the entire drive into the city, occasionally glancing over at her catching glimpses of her living her best life.  How could he be brooding when she just wanted to have some fun?  His expression softened and his mood lifted as he pulled into a parking space and paid the meter.  Helping her out of his 4x4, he chuckled when he realized what she was wearing.  “You wore heels to Bourbon Street?  Do you even know what you’ll be stepping in?  Your feet are going to be killing you within the hour.”  She shrugged taking his hand to step down from the truck.  “We’ll see, wolfman.” 

She walked with a purpose, like she knew exactly where she was going, never missing a beat despite the 4 inch heels she was wearing.  He followed close behind, his supernatural senses scanning all directions for danger.  She might have been there to have fun, but he was only there to keep her safe.  Herds of people crowded the streets.  Laughing, jovial, drunk people hopping from one bar to the next.  A combination of music filled the air; jazz, classic rock, pop, all running together where one bar ended and the next began.  Bourbon Street was something everyone should see at least once in their lifetime.  A bucket list kind of thing.  It was not, however, the kind of place you’d want to spend most of your time.  If New Orleans was a department store, Bourbon Street would be the men’s room.  Dirty, littered and foul smelling.  Don’t stay too long and don’t touch anything.  Grabbing his forearm, Davina pulled him into a shop.  His neck jerked around to see the letters on the window spelling out Buckingham Phallus.  A quick glance in all directions made his head spin; dildos, vibrators, c*ck rings, naughty lingerie… “Uh… Davina? I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore…”