Summary:

Jessica and Killgrave start to deal with each other's body and power

Notes:

Hellooo again.

I have a super wonderful beta reader , @KWhit90 and I wanna thank her with all of my heart <3

Chapter I (I): When the question is: 'how does the other can do that?'

Jessica's POV

Damn, it's really happening, I haven't imagined anything, I'm not dreaming, and I'm not even drunk.
When I got home yesterday I only drank half that bottle of whiskey before I went to sleep.
Like I said, I'm not even a bit drunk.
Speaking of what I drank last night... fuck my bladder... or rather this bladder, it's telling me I need to pee.

Fortunately (and unfortunately) I know that damn snobby dandy like the back of my hand, well, not this hand, but my usual, hairless one: he always wants to be comfortable, and that's how I already know that the bathroom will be behind the door that is against the far wall of the bedroom.
And, of course, even the bathroom is worthy of a prince.

Damn right, you're going to hate it, aren't you, Killgrave? Now that you are in the dump that is my apartment, how long will you survive there?

Speaking of surviving... I feel like I'm going to die if I don't fucking pee, just... how?

Okay, Jones, lift the toilet seat and stand right here. So far this is easy.

I pull "my" pants down and, oh, apparently I'm wearing boxers, thank goodness they're not purple, the eggplant pajamas are already enough.

Speaking of eggplant ... I mean, should I really grab that ... that thing, with my hands?
I do it mostly because I feel that if I wait a single second longer to piss I'll explode.

I let loose and immediately feel relieved, but as I try to keep my aim I realize it's harder than it seems.
It's like holding a water hose that's gone crazy.

It's definitely difficult at first, but I gradually learn how to control it.
At the end I give a couple of shakes.
This will go to my grave, but... it has been quite a funny experience.

Men truly have it so easy.

I wash my hands and rinse my face... damn how bristly his face is. Maybe I'll look for where he keeps the razor and try to shave later.

But not now. Fuck, I have more important things to do.
He must have his phone somewhere, that same phone that I send a picture of myself to at ten o'fucking clock every morning.

You lousy pervert!
Where the fuck do you keep your phone?
It's not on the bedside table, you haven't even forgotten it in the bathroom, it's not on the desk, wait ... where is that disgustingly purple jacket you wore yesterday? Ah yes, there it is leaning on the chair.

I put my hand in the left pocket and... bingo!

I'm going to call him immediately. He'll have to answer sooner or later, or else I'll torment him all day.
The call is picked up on the fourth ring

"Jessica! Thank God you called. I was trying to reach...well, me, but between hiding from you and planning my spectacular declaration of love, I didn't have time to memorize my own number. Also, annoyingly, you don't have it saved in your phone," my voice greets me, calm yet annoyed at the same time.

"I don't want to have even a single detail that reminds me of you. It was hard enough for me just to look at myself in the mirror, and now I have your face looking back at me," I bark, bitterly.

"You may change the body you are in but you always remain as sharp as usual, don't you, Jessie," he chuckles on the other end of the line ... or should I say she, since Killgrave has my voice?

Nope. He. Let Killgrave always remain 'he'.
Fuck, I don't understand anything anymore, but most of all, why isn't he freaking out?

Now I'm going to ask him.

"How the fuck can you be so calm? Do you realize the fucking trouble we're in? This thing doesn't make any fucking sense, and the last thing I need to deal with is your fucking Englishman's fucking calm," I burst out.

There's nothing else in the whole world that infuriates me more than him.

"Jessie, Jessie," he chuckles, which makes me nervous for two reasons.

The first is that he keeps being so fucking calm.

The second is that he knows very well that I hate when he calls me that damn name.

"You're actually the 'fucking Englishman' and, my darling, you are not sounding calm at all! Besides, it's not pleasant to hear myself cursing in that oh-so-unrefined way, tsk, tsk. "

"Fuck you," I growl, hanging up.

No, wait a minute.
I've just said, "Fuck you!" to Killgrave, who now has my body, with his voice...and his power.
Oh, shit, shit, shit.

I feverishly redial the number, relieved when he answers on the first ring.

Killgrave's POV

Indeed, I am in Jessica's body, her sensual, perfect, impossibly sexy, exciting body, and I still haven't done anything about that?

Did I go numb all of a sudden?

I'm stroking her thighs and running her fingers back and forth along their infinite length when Jessica's cell phone rings again.

And I already know who it is, so I answer immediately.

"Tell ..."

"Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it," she interrupts me, very agitated. "I didn't mean what I said before, so stop now," she clarifies, a little calmer, but I wouldn't count on it too much.

"Jessica, you didn't give me any commands, if that's what you're afraid of," I inform her.

She still doesn't know.

"Oh well, yes ... that's true, because we're on the phone, stupid me!"

It wouldn't work even if you yelled it at me two inches away... but you'll have time to figure that out, my darling.

"You certainly don't need to command such a thing for me to do it," I provoke her.

Provoking Jessica is one of the things I love doing the most, as a matter of fact I think it's my absolute favorite hobby.

"Don't you dare," she yells from the phone.

"Oh, what beautiful black lace panties I'm wearing!"

"Stop it now," she yells at me, uselessly.

Ah, Jess, you wish you could command me!

"Ahaha, but I was just bluffing! Looks like I guessed right...," I reveal the truth and she grunts, which I think means she's fine with it, but then I stretch out the shorts I'm still wearing. "Oh, how cute, these panties have bows on the sides!"

"Killgrave," she growls, furious, but then seems to calm down. "Can you stop being a ten-year-old for a second and try to talk a little more seriously about this whole fucking matter?"

Ten -year-old.
Jessica, you have no idea how much some of your sentences hurt me, how many memories they conjure up for me. You can't know.

"I am in your body, you are in mine, I have your power, you have mine. And I'm pretty sure that the exchange took place at midnight, after we touched those figurines. Maybe they were cursed, like the whole house," I say, giving her my view of the facts.

"Look at you, just over eight hours since you've become me and you're already acting as a detective," she giggles.

"Am I good at least?" I ask her.

"It pains me to admit it, but yes, you are. I think you're right about what happened. "

"I watch TV, there are a lot of movies on that subject and these things always happen at midnight!"

Three, two, one ...

"Damn you, idiot, I said we had to talk seriously," she blurts out, as I had already foreseen, and hangs up.

This isn't so bad. I can call her later as I've just saved my number to Jessica's phone.

I get out of bed because I can't wear shorts all day long.

Moving toward the bathroom to use the toilet, I start standing up, but then remember that position won't work in this body.
Of course yes, it's much less messy for a woman to pee while sitting.

I do not mind confessing that I am looking at my breasts, I am also touching them, but... without Jessica it's not the same, not even if I am her now.
I wonder what it would be like to have sex with her in this body...
Oh, bloody hell, these are way too complicated and twisted thoughts for this early in the morning!

I wash my hands and rinse my face.
Damn this hair ... whatever I do I always find it in my face. It's annoying... I'll have to do something about it, but not now.

For the time being, I comb her long black strands away from my face, and go back to the bedroom.

I'm anything but calm right now. I am good at acting and Jessica is perhaps too gullible, but the truth is that I'm shocked by this situation. This is something that only happens in movies!

I'd better get dressed... oh, come'on, Jessica, tell me you don't have only worn jeans and poor quality T-shirts or kitsch sweatshirts, because the very thought drives me crazy...

Damn.
I just wanted to open the wardrobe... and instead I find myself with the closet door in my hand... and it feels light as a feather, so much so that I am able to move it from side to side with no effort.
Oh, Jessica, yours is a wonderful power.
I place the closet door on the floor, as delicately as possible, as I consider Jessica's power.

Obviously, I shouldn't do things when I feel angry because I can't manage her power well with this emotion.
Wonderful or not, I want my power back. At least I know how to manage it with every mood.

How does Jessica do it?

In the end, the choice in the wardrobe is very small, and I get content with a pair of black jeans, that strangely do not have rips, and a white T-shirt.

I leave the room and the first thing I notice is the strong smell of alcohol.

Near the desk there are the shards of an empty whiskey bottle, probably from Jessica trying to make a basket in the waste bin nearby and blatantly missing.

Oh, my love, this is how you spend every night, isn't it?
That's no good.

I try not to think about this as I make my way into the miserable kitchenette, and open the fridge in a calm and measured manner.
No upturned doors this time.

There is milk, and upon opening cabinets at random I find a box of cereal.

It's not fair that I have to settle for this crappy, discount food while at my current home Jessica is probably enjoying a delectable selection of breakfast meats and pastries.

Another important lesson for myself.

It's not wise to open even a harmless thing like a cardboard box when I am pissed off.

The small bits of sugary cereal have showered everywhere,and crunch under my feet on the floor as I step away from the mess.

Bugger it, I'll go out for breakfast!

Except I need some money first. Let's see ...

If I know Jessica well, and I do, she is certainly not fond of safes or similar security devices, which means that she is more likely to keep her money ...

I approach the desk as if drawn to it like metal to a magnet, and notice that the drawers are not even locked .
I open the second and ... bingo! There's an envelope, probably the payment for one of Jessica's latest investigations.

I count the money, and am satisfied that it's enough for what I am planning.

Jessica's POV

When I leave the bedroom, I still feel pretty nervous about the phone call with Killgrave.
Maybe, in addition to my annoying phone call with him, I'm also unnerved by the fact that I'm now wearing one of his prim, sophisticated suits. Thank God he had one in blue as I wouldn't wear a purple suit even if my life depended on it! As it is, the stupid purple shirt I'm wearing is annoying enough!

"Good morning Mr. Killgrave, did you sleep well?" I am welcomed by a middle-aged woman, her red hair in a bun.

A tall, balding man, probably her husband, is on one side of her, and a teenager of about fifteen, her son presumably, on the other.
It's disturbing how much all three of them can't stop smiling at me.

I look at the clock on the wall to see that it's past nine. If Killgrave came back last night, he probably would have spoken to these people before going to sleep. Let's assume it was eleven, half past eleven ... which means that they're still under that bastard's influence since his powers last twelve hours.

"We made you your favorite breakfast: the English one," the head of the family informs me, with an air of pride as he points to the dining table. "Fried bacon, poached eggs, buttered toast, stewed beans, black pudding, grilled mushrooms..."

If he mentions even another fucking dish, I swear I'm going to throw up on the floor.

"Shall I polish your shoes again, Sir," the boy offers, bending down in front of me with a napkin.

Enough! I can't stand these people and their suffocating attention anymore.

"Go away," I exclaim, without thinking too much about what I've just said.

I see the three inhabitants of the house walking towards the door and leaving, as if this was something that was totally normal. They didn't bother to take anything with them.

Congrats, Jessica, great job, you're kicking innocent people out of their own home.

I run after them, and find them on the stairs.

"Stop," I say and they freeze like statues.

Damn, from bad to worse, how the fuck can Killgrave do this?

(End I)

Notes:

well so far you hear their phone calls, are you ready for them to meet?
Can you guess what will happen?
Don't miss next part

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