A Time to Introduce Yourselves


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Scene Title A Time to Introduce Yourselves
Synopsis Having been instructed to work together to do some killin', Lawrence and Veronica take a few moments to get each other's names and other basics. Then there is awkward silence.
Date May 16, 2009

It isn't too long after they've left the restaurant that Lawrence turns to Veronica as they walk and offers his hand with a pleasant smile. "I'm Lawrence, by the way. Lawrence Cook. It's nice to meet you." And kill someone with you. Man, their jobs are weird.

She smiles. "Veronica Sawyer," she says, taking his hand with hers that is so small in comparison. "Want to grab a coffee or something so we know something about one another other than our names? Or maybe it's easier that way…" She doesn't seem too sure which is better and gives a bit of a nervous laugh that is rather unlike her. Not that he knows what she's like yet.

Lawrence shakes hands, releases, and then tries really surreptitiously to wipe his hand off in his pocket. Maybe he's a germ freak. He kind of looks the type. "Coffee is an excellent idea, yes. Do you know a place? …A clean place?"

She notes the hand wipe and raises her brows. "Clean as in safe, or clean as in they wipe down the counters once in a while with Lysol?" That's more like it. She doesn't look too offended, but her lips have curved into a smirk as she watches him out of the corners of her eyes.

Lawrence is used to smirks; the smile flickers a note, but he bobs his head. "Both. I… notice dirt." A lot. Unless he's noticing something else.

Veronica looks at her hand, holding it up so that her palm shows — clean. "Great," she says with a bemused tone. "There's a good place up about a block, Monk," she tells him. "So promise me you won't leave me in the lurch if someone sneezes while we're paired together."

"Monk?" Lawrence echoes, puzzled. "I'm not particularly religious. And I can deal with sneezing." He seems mildly offended, displayed by a straightening of his lanky frame and a little sniff.

"It's a television show. Germaphobic detective," Vee says as they walk. She nods ahead to the generic coffee shop that looks like every other independently owned coffee shop in New York. "Here we are," she says, grabbing the door handle herself and entering, letting him follow. A sign says "Seat Yourself" and she heads to a corner booth that affords a view out of two windows at once as well as the door.

Lawrence's gaze flicks over their surroundings; he nods approvingly at her choice of booth and slides in opposite her. "I don't watch much television," he admits. "Is that something you like to do?"

"Not particularly," she says with a shrug. "I've seen the show on late night cable when I can't sleep sometimes, that's all." She picks up one of the menus from behind the napkin dispenser and opens it up. "So are you new? I haven't seen you before."

Lawrence tries not to look too closely at the tabletop. He mirrors her, reaching for a menu as well. "I am new. I arrived several weeks ago to work with Miss Dahl. We're still getting used to each other."

Vee nods. "I bet," she says, with some amusement, wondering how Minea handled the germaphobic partner before she got put into the coma. "Sorry about her by the way. Hopefully she'll be back on her feet soon," she says quietly. She sets the menu back, having apparently decided what she wants. "And what were you before?" she says, curiously.

"She will," Lawrence says firmly, like someone trying to convince himself maybe. He turns a page in the menu. "Ooh, milkshakes. I used to be an accountant, actually. Terribly boring. And you?"

"Well, that makes sense," Veronica says. "Nothing before this. College student," she says with a shrug. "I've been doing this since graduation." The waitress, a matronly woman, comes by just then and asks "What can I get ya?" in a clearly native New York accent. Vee orders: coffee and a bagel, toasted, light cream cheese.

"I'll have the same," Lawrence tells the waitress. Veronica is blinked at. "Really. Straight out of college? You can't have been working that long."

She's one of those women who can look like a college student or a sophisticated businesswoman, depending what she's wearing and how she holds herself. "Five years," she says. "You?" She means for The Company of course, though doesn't mention it by name.

"…Oh," Lawrence says. That's a lot longer than he thought. "Not very long. I'm relatively fresh from training." He clears his throat, reaching out to adjust the napkin holder's placement on the table. Newbie!

Vee chuckles a little. She's used to being mistaken for someone younger. "Back in California, I was the one they usually sent in on the teenie bopper cases. You know. Undercover, and all," she says with a shrug. "I've only been in New York for about three months now." Three long months.

"High school? Ugh." Lawrence supresses a shudder. Figures he'd be the type to not have fond memories of the good ol' days. "You mentioned Hapkido? I've never heard of it. Is it related to Aikido?"

"I don't think so, but I never studied Aikido so I don't know," she says with a shrug. "It's mostly joint locks, throws, kicks, stuff like that," she says with a shrug. "I also am a low level black belt in Taekwondo, but since you asked about grappling, Hapkido's probably more useful in that regard."

"Taekwondo's mostly… kicking, as I understand it." Food and drink arrive; Lawrence eyes his coffee with a hint of disdain. Is it good coffee? He is pessimistic. "I myself practice Wing Chun."

"I don't know that one. What I like about Hapkido is it's basically designed to counter any kind of attack. And it's versatile. But anyway. Whatever works, right? I mean, in the end, it's all kicking, punching, twisting. Just different styles, different emphasis. The philosophies are supposedly different but it's all about taking down the other person in the end. Some with more pain than others." She shrugs. "Hopefully it won't matter in what we have to do. The cleaner and quicker, the better." She means guns. Take him by surprise, and there's no need to get close and personal.

Lawrence stirs a considerable amount of milk into his coffee after sniff-testing the little packets with suspicion. "I do best at long distances. I have very good eyesight." Very, very good.

"Ahh," Veronica says with understanding. "I'm all right, normal range sort of stuff," she says with a shrug. Good for a normal human without any extra mojo, is the unspoken comment she keeps to herself. She picks up her bagel, having not noticed the coffee and food arrived when she wasn't looking. The marks of a good waitress, to go unnoticed while the patrons are talking.

Lawrence fusses with the sugar, sipping his coffee from time to time to test it, wrinkling his nose, and adding more sugar. The coffee is not up to his standards. He gets it as good as it's going to be and turns to his bagel to nibble away at it prissily. And now, the awkward silence.

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