Participants:
| Scene Title | Be Nice |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Abby and Veronica bump into each other at Dean and Deluca's in an awkward moment that ends with Abby telling Vee to be "nice" to Winters. |
| Date | March 31, 2009 |
Dean and Deluca's, Greenwich Village
Dean and Deluca. The New yorkers bastion of fine food. Overpriced luxury foodstuffs, and strange named cheese. One of the places where Abby can find the one item on the list of stuff that Sonny Bianco had ended up giving her of generic stuff to help her get back into ideal shape and fast as possible without consuming lots of chocolate cake, that she can't find in her regular forays into Price Chopper. Some of us don't have a fancy Company Salary, just a fancy bartender's salary. She's here for that one item and frankly, Abby's not immune to what afflicts everyone. Getting yourself a treat. The small carry basket over her arm, the redhead wanders through the aisles, looking, touching. It's also a good way to get herself readjusted to crowds she was told.
Veronica is just there for coffee and some takeout. She is making herself a to-go container of food in the help-yourself salad-bar-style line while the barista makes her specialty coffee — something with soy milk and extra caffeine, no doubt. She glances up just as Abby walks by her, recognizing the newly-red-headed woman quickly, and ducking her head once more to the task of ladling soup into a container. She frowns a little at the memory of the night before, and the odd behavior that Brian's been exhibiting since. In fact, she hasn't seen him all day, which might just be something she needs to address with Goodman… if he's gone off the reservation — well, it's probably one more notch in Veronica's never-ending list of mistakes.
Well, he's not been with the Red Head, that's for sure. At least, not Veronica's Brian. Abby's Brian isn't with her too. Bad luck for Veronica is that Abby's passed by her and then stopped at the take out bar, look at stuff, contemplate. There is work tonight and it's likely a lot better than what the cooks in the back whip up. Her sniffing though ends as she looks up to Veronica, one of those casual 'who am i standing in line next to' glances that ends with a very angry look on her face and hands tightening on her basket.
Awkward much? Veronica puts the lid on her soup, then moves on to get some of the parmesan-cheddar-garlic croutons to add to it later, so they won't get soggy. She looks less like a company agent today — maybe she's off duty or maybe she's under cover, but she's just wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and a Berkeley sweatshirt. Her hair's pulled into a ponytail, and she wears little makeup. "Soy Double Shot Latte!" the barista calls, and Veronica turns out of the line to grab her drink.
When veronica grabs her drink, if she looks back, Abby's gone. Beelined, hightailed, disappeared. Something. Never even know the former blonde was even there.
Veronica frowns. That girl knows too much. Brian's apparently avoiding her. Goodman hasn't called her to tell her how to handle the situation. Sometimes, she wonders why she does this job, and why she ever left California. She pays for her food and coffee, taking a sip of the overly sweetened, overly caffeinated beverage she tricks herself into thinking is healthy because it has soy milk. She sighs and heads for the door, to head back to her apartment.
Abby frankly knows far too much. She just doesn't say it, unless someone asks her in an official capacity. The Healers parked on her scooter outside of Dean and Deluca, her own bag in hand, sans treat. Watching. Waiting for Veronica to come out, unhappy look still on her face.
Veronica exits, pulling out sunglasses, as Daylight Savings Time make the early evening bright, where the orange, setting sun reflects and bounces off anything glass or metal. She frowns as she sees the other woman waiting, and just tilts her head curiously — again, that somewhat innocent, childlike look coming over her face, before she slips the glasses on. "Nice ride," she says with a nod toward the Vespa. "I'm not following you or anything, Abby. I'm not after you, believe me."
"If you were after me, i'd be sitting in a room with people poking me" Comes the womans reply. "Is he okay?" No how do you do, no are you Company. It's firmly set in her mind. "That is him yes? He got taken, and they couldn't find him. He's with you now. So tell me, is he okay? are they treating him nice? Are you treating him nice?"
"If you mean that's 'him,' I assume you mean the guy with me last night?" Sure, she's still trying to play it innocently. "I don't know who you think he is, but he's fine. Does he look like he's being made to do anything against his will to you? Like I had him at gunpoint or am somehow acting as his puppetmaster? Believe me, I don't have any sort of skill like that. He likes what he does. What we do. Ad work is very rewarding."
"Right. Ad work. Just be nice to him. He's a good guy. I don't know how you got him to do 'ad' work, and why he doesn't remember me but he's a good guy. He just doesn't know how to act like his originator. Tell him to say more bible things, and if he see's a woman doing a stupid thing, to sigh and roll his eyes. It's standard practice around me" Her keys are produced, unlocking the seat she was sitting on, switching out bag for helmet. "Besides, they know they only have to ask and I'll heal. I'm met the memory fairy a few times and came out unscathed" She's not being snotty, she's trying not to be snotty. The woman just angers her. She's got the missing Brian.
Her own eyes hidden, so it's hard to tell her full reaction, but her jaw tightens a bit. "I have no idea what you mean about his originator, but sure, I'll pass on the message. Bible thumping eye roller. Sounds like a winner," she says sarcastically. "Good luck, Abby. Take care of yourself, and don't let yourself fall into the wrong hands. Be careful who you offer all your information to. You're gonna get yourself hurt or worse one of these days, if you're not careful." It isn't a threat — Veronica has no desire to hurt the woman, even if she's being maddening at the moment, telling Vee to be nice.
"allllready been kidnapped by sadistic pimps from Staten Island and secret underground evolved fight club owners. Toss in a midtown man, and oh hey, even a former company agent. Lets add the real "ad" agency to the list and see how much more I can take" Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and the creepy regrown tongue. Shoudln't be a surprise given what she can do. "Call, if he needs healing, or if you do" The helmet's being secured, purse squared away with her bag beneath the seat. "God bless"
"Call … the bar?" Vee says, looking confused. Wasn't she told never to go near there again? Wouldn't phone calls count in the whole 'not welcome' thing? "I'll let him know. Maybe all that means something to him, maybe it doesn't. But I'm not planning on needing healing, so no worries, kid. Good luck." She raises a hand to hail a cab.
Call the bar, call her number. It's the company, they have access to everything. Abby for the most part just throws her a patented Brian eye roll at the question before the key is in the Vespa and with a shove, the blonde is easing her way into traffic towards work.
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