(MA) These shoes just don't fit me

[the_death_card]

The weather's been getting cooler as fall creeps on and winter approaches. Jack's gone from wearing mostly his few long sleeve t-shirts and sweatshirts to actually needing his heaviest jacket literally overnight. This morning's the coldest it's been yet with no promise of it warming up as the day wears on, and he pulls on a sweatshirt as he heads out to the kitchen to find breakfast.

"Morning," he tells Dylan as he heads for the kitchen to get down a bowl and the cereal. Once he has the milk on it, he grabs a spoon and takes a seat across the table from his dad, glancing up at the paperwork he has his head down over. It's nothing he can make sense of - especially upside down - and he yawns before he starts on his breakfast.

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[onebehind]

"Morning," Dylan calls back absently, nose still stuck in his paperwork. When Jack comes to sit, however, he pushes it aside with a heavy breath out, frustrated by its contents, not Jack, and reaches for a nearby mug of coffee to replace it. He takes a sip before asking, "How's it going?"

[the_death_card]

Jack finishes yawning, shrugging as he chews and swallows. "Not bad. Gotta history quiz later, but it's just over, like... a couple chapters."

He did actually study for it, too, and reread the chapters last night. He's not that worried about it.

"You?"

[onebehind]

Dylan hums, trusting that Jack did, in fact, study (his grades have gotten better since he's been with him), and then glances back at the paperwork he pushed aside. He scrubs a hand over his mouth, rakes his tongue over his teeth as he returns his attentions to Jack, grumbles, "It's not even seven, yet, and I'm going fucking cross-eyed here."

[the_death_card]

Jack pokes at his cereal a little as he makes a face. "You working on a case or catching up with shit or...?" he trails off as he picks up a spoonful and takes another bite.

[onebehind]

"Working on a case," he answers, nodding. "Evidence got back to us on a few things we pulled from a crime scene, a few weeks back, and it's not ... " He steals another glance at the stack of papers and shakes his head. "It doesn't look like we have shit, but I feel like there's something here, like we're missing something."

Maybe he'll have to have Fuller look at it, when he gets into the office. Maybe a second pair of eyes will help.

[the_death_card]

"Sucks," Jack says as he swallows. "You'll figure it out, though? Maybe, like... I don't know. They tell you to read papers backwards to make sure you didn't make a typo; put them in a different order or something?"

He figures Fuller's already looked it over or he'd suggest that, too.

[onebehind]

"Maybe," Dylan drawls, it an act of will not to look towards the stack of papers again. It can't hurt to try, if nothing else, but he'll wait until Jack's off to school before he buries his nose in evidence reports again. He has hours before he has to be at work, thanks to the time difference, after all.

"It's an idea, anyway," he continues after a beat, putting words to that if only so Jack knows he's not dismissing him.

[the_death_card]

Jack gets it, and he shrugs, too.

"So, uh..." he begins, hesitating a moment when he's not sure what to ask next and not wanting to ask something ridiculous like mentioning the weather. "Anything else going on?"

He doubts it considering they talked last night, but he's also sort of asking if Dylan has anything going on that he'll be late getting home.

[onebehind]

Considering how cold it is outside, talking about the weather might not be too ridiculous. It might even be a more interesting topic of conversation, honestly, considering Dylan shrugs in response to what Jack does ask, grunts to the negative.

"Nothing major," he continues after a beat. Even if he finds whatever it is he feels like he's missing, now, thanks to Jack's suggestion, even if it leads to a break in the case or an arrest, these things take more time than they do on TV. It might mean overtime in his future, sure, but not tonight, not that fast. "So, I should be home about usual time."

"You haven't suddenly decided to join, like, I don't know, fencing club or something, have you?" The more apt question might be to ask if he's going to go hang out at the carousel tonight. He knows Jack will still beat him home, even if he is, but he likes to know where Jack is, regardless.

[onebehind]

"Hey, how cold you think it was, outside, this morning?" Dylan starts as he pokes his head into Fuller's office. He's been in for all of ten minutes, if that, Fuller probably the same, but Jack and his lack of proper coat has been eating at him since Jack left, this morning, never mind the hoodie he let him borrow. He needs to bitch at someone.

[king_ofwands]

Fuller is still getting there, still settling in for the morning and straightening up things to figure out what he needs to start working on, and he looks up at Dylan when he pokes his head in. "I don't know," he begins after a moment. "I didn't notice what it said on the news. Somewhere in the forties? Why?"

It's not quite as cold as it can get here this time of year, but it was definitely feeling like fall when he left the house.

[onebehind]

"Somewhere in the forties," Dylan agrees, never mind the fact that it was colder, still, than that, back in New York, "and the kid tried to walk outta the house without a jacket on." A beat, then for gravity's sake, he clarifies, "I had to let him borrow one of mine, because he doesn't have one. The State of fucking Nevada didn't think to give a kid a damn coat."

Or, you know, the State of New York, but still.

[king_ofwands]

Fuller sighs, leaning back in his chair and breathing out, "Jesus. I mean, I know the foster care system doesn't have half the funding it needs and all that, but...." He trails off, shaking his head again. That's ridiculous.

[onebehind]

"It's bullshit," he finishes, pushing entirely into the office, now. He takes a seat in the chair opposite Fuller's desk, shaking his head. "I told Evans already, but I'm gonna try and get outta here a little early, go get him something of his own, so he's not bumming mine, all winter."

Not that he minds Jack wearing his hoodie, but -- well, he's going to need it, himself, eventually. Not to mention the fact that he's pretty sure Jack would like something of his own.

[king_ofwands]

Fuller nods. "Yeah, I don't blame you. That's..." He shakes his head again. "We've donated a lot of the kids' clothes as they outgrow them, but that makes me wanna go buy a bunch of hoodies and drop them off a group home or something."

[onebehind]

"In various sizes and colors," Dylan puts forth, by way of agreement. Shaking his head, he reaches up to scrub a hand over the lower half of his face, and exhales a sigh through his fingers. "Seriously, though. The state can afford to cut me a check every month, to take care of Jack; you'd think they be able to afford to give the kids who aren't so lucky a Goddamn coat at least."

Or maybe stop the stipends program altogether. He'd still be able to take care of himself and Jack, even without the state's money, and maybe people who couldn't shouldn't be able to foster a kid in the first place. Then, the state could use the money to actually pay for necessities for the kids who don't get fostered or adopted. Or maybe that's a terrible idea, maybe there's a reason why the system works like it does and Jack's situation is a one-off, but he doubts it. He's also too bitter to care at the moment. He can see why, among other reasons, Jack never spent much time at the group home.

[king_ofwands]

"You'd think," Fuller agrees, "but I'm pretty sure at this point that's only because they can schedule that on a computer and don't have to actually involve people to talk to the kids to know what sizes they need and all that."

Yeah, Fuller is just as bitter about this as Dylan considering he knows very well how bureaucracy works and the nightmare that is red tape.

[the_death_card]

Jack might have been a little doubtful about the effectiveness of the hoodie when his other jacket and a sweatshirt wasn't enough, but it definitely hadn't taken him long to realize that Dylan had been telling the truth about it (not that the demonstration with the bat hadn't been enough). He's almost sorry to put it back in the closet when he gets home considering how awesome the whole thing is. He does, though, returning it to its place and taking his other jacket and sweatshirt back to his room before he gathers up a snack and settles in front of the tv to wait on Dylan to get home.

[onebehind]

It's not long before Dylan does get there, coming in the door only some fifteen minutes later, one hand already working at the knot of his tie. He pauses briefly, when he spots Jack on the couch, then starts picking at his tie again, as he continues on back towards his bedroom.

"Hey," he calls as he passes. "Gimme, like, a couple minutes to change, then we'll get outta here."

[the_death_card]

"Kay," Jack returns around the pretzel he had just eaten out of the snack mix, stopping mid-motion where he had been about to turn off the tv.

Part of him still wants to ask if this is okay, if Dylan doesn't need to be back at work - but a larger part of him is excited about this, about spending the afternoon with Dylan.

[onebehind]

If Jack asks or if he senses his worry, Dylan will assure him that it's fine -- and that, even if it wasn't, he wouldn't give much of a shit. He loves his job, yes, and he recognizes it as an important factor in the plan for revenge he's slowly putting together, but this is just as important, if not more so. Barring his last show, his father would have dropped everything for him; the same is true for him and Jack.

Right now, however, he just disappears into his room, then returns, as promised, but a few minutes later, suit and tie traded out for a Rutgers sweatshirt and jeans.

"Alright," he starts, once he's back in earshot, "I figured we could start with Queens Place. If we can't find anything we like there ... " He shrugs. Worst comes to worst, they'll head over to Fashion Show, like Fuller suggested, or any of the dozens of other malls in New York or Nevada.

[the_death_card]

Jack looks up again as Dylan comes back into the living room - and then closes up his snack and reaches for the remote to turn off the tv. He pushes to the edge of the couch, pausing short of getting to his feet, though he does as Dylan finishes and he nods. "Works for me?" he returns, because he didn't really have anywhere in mind to start.

He knows the nice shops in New York, yeah, but he hasn't spent much time in them. He couldn't afford anything from them, and the clerks usually paid too much attention to him for him to take the risk in stealing something. He usually had better luck in the second-hand shops - on both fronts.

[onebehind]

"Alright," Dylan repeats, checking his pockets for his wallet and keys. Those accounted for, he starts for the door, shooting a glance over his shoulder to make sure Jack is ready and following. "I also figured we'd skip the subway, unless you wanna be on a train for forty-five minutes or whatever."

He can get them there much faster with his magic, even if, unlike some places, he won't be able to put them directly there. Still, a five minute walk is better than a ride that long.

[the_death_card]

Jack is following, and he grins at Dylan's suggestion. "Yeah, no, the short way definitely works." He's definitely on board for more reasons than it just being shorter, though.

Speaking of... "You should show me how that works sometime, speaking of."

[onebehind]

"One of these days," Dylan promises. Not today, but maybe eventually, and only then for Jack to use in case of emergency. The Eye might approve of Jack using the door trick as a means of keeping himself or Dylan safe, despite not being apart of them, yet. He's not sure they'd approve if he meant to use it just to skip the walk home from school.

"But anyway," he continues after a beat and as he reaches for the door, pulling magic around himself as he does so. When he pulls it open this time, it leads into a little used hallway in what appears to be a subway station, and Dylan steps into it without batting an eyelash. And despite the fact that it goes without saying, at this point, over his shoulder, he offers, "Close the door behind you."