Bolivar's Friend Resurfaces


elisabeth_icon.gif kayla_icon.gif

Scene Title Bolivar's Friend Resurfaces
Synopsis After disappearing into Homeland custody, Kayla reappears in a most unlikely place.
Date May 27, 2009

Crown Heights Police Station

Early Tuesday morning, and Crown Heights is already busy; but then, when is a police station not busy? Especially in these times. Kayla has been here once before, but the woman looked very different then; she wears tan slacks and a blouse somewhere between turquoise and robin's-egg blue in shade, her red-brown hair tied back in a severe tail and a light, professional touch of makeup accenting the planes of her face. She's definitely moved up a bit in the world, somewhere amidst her months of absence from it.

The woman pauses for a brief, critical scan of the lobby, then makes her way for the receptionist's desk, an unlabeled envelope held in one hand. The manila sheath isn't very heavily packed; it looks like it probably holds just a few slips of paper.

Elisabeth Harrison is just walking in behind two uniformed officers who are hauling in a hooker. Yeah… maybe it's lame in this day and circumstances, but day-to-day arrests are still being made. She glances toward the peroxide blonde who is running her mouth at the arresting officers as she's hauled along and shakes her head. Her eyes run over the rest of the people in the room and initially she skims right over Kayla, not recognizing her. But something about the woman draws her eye back and Liz studies her a moment longer.

The receptionist directs Kayla to a waiting area — nothing more elaborate than a fuzzily-denoted section of the lobby where would-be Registrants generally cool their heels; there's enough of them on an everyday basis to have a space unofficially allocated for it. The woman steps aside at her instructions, with poor grace but sufficient patience; she folds her arms against her torso, unmindful of the way the envelope and its contents crinkle, jaw set and expression flat.

Now that's something of a surprise. Elisabeth finally places Kayla's face and walks over to the waiting room. "I'm surprised to see you in here," she comments quietly. "Can I help you with anything?"

Some things don't change; people either trip over themselves to answer questions asked by cops, or they do as little as possible. The answer Kayla gives Elisabeth isn't exactly a surprise. "I don't think so." Unless Liz is handling her Registration, obviously, but if she were Kayla figures the woman wouldn't have asked that. "It's just paperwork." No big deal, by extension.

With a tilt of her head, Elisabeth says quietly, "A friend of yours came to ask me to look into it when you went missing." She holds her hand out for the paperwork. "Didn't have a lot of luck…. do I dare hope you left town on vacation?"

"Something like that." If the vacation in question was purely mental, it's nearly even true. Kayla looks at Liz for a long moment — a friend of hers? — then lowers her arms and holds over the slightly-worse-for-wear envelope. It contains a form that's all too familiar, along with the necessary documents to prove U.S. citizenship, residency (Fort Greene apartments), and employment (with Primatech Paper).

Skimming the documents, Elisabeth nods slowly and looks up at Kayla. "Something like that indeed," she echoes softly. "I can file these for you," she tells the other woman, her blue eyes searching Kayla's face for a long moment. She's not sure whether to apologize — because she tried to check into Kayla's situation with no luck — or to ask if the other woman is all right. Kayla's always brushed off that question before. And probably will again. "Yes, a friend of yours… a man whose life you saved. He was more than a little worried when they picked you up," she says softly. "It's good to see that things are turning around for you as a result instead." Because well, she's not living in the trailer park anymore and has a job…. however much that job might make Liz cringe.

Gray eyes narrow at Elisabeth's expression and tone; she knows something is off, but not what. Doesn't know about the woman's history with Primatech — at least not yet. But she doesn't ask questions that won't get answered, either.

Oh, that 'friend'. If anything, Kayla's eyes narrow further yet. "I'm aware. You're apparently not the only one he saw fit to harass about me. Unnecessarily." Which is to say, yes, she's 'all right'. Prickly pride won't admit anything else — but for once, it's even true.

The healer nods towards the folder. "Thank you. Is that all I need to do, then?" Hand over the files? The power-demonstration requirement, a paper in there says has already been fulfilled; it also has her ability listed simply as Healing, with no elaboration.

Elisabeth glances at the papers once more to verify that she's done the demo part of the requirement and nods slowly. "Yeah, that's all you have to do." She pauses, looking up at the woman. "So let me ask you something… are you hiring out your ability, or just working for Primatech these days?" There's genuine curiosity in her expression, as well as something else. Wariness… the kind that Kayla's more than a little acquainted with, having a metric ton of it herself.

That's all she has to do. Kayla starts to turn away, but the motion is stopped almost before it begins, gray gaze returning to Elisabeth. Is she…? The woman snorts incredulously, lips pressing into a thin line. "You couldn't pay me enough to hire out," she replies, a bitter undertone to the blunt words. "I have a job. That's all I need." Money-wise, she's used to getting by on — well, none.

She watches Elisabeth sidelong, expression holding more wary thorns than curiosity; just where are you going with this and why are you asking personal questions in the first place? But Kayla did answer and does wait, which is something.

There's a slight nod. "Figured it couldn't hurt to ask, Ms. Reid, that's all. Some of us hire out our abilities… or take jobs that complement them. Some of us don't for a variety of reasons. I didn't intend to offend you." Elisabeth closes the paperwork back up into the envelope that Kayla brought them in. "I'll get all this filed for you today. And … congratulations on the new job," she tells the other woman sincerely.

As Elisabeth replies, Kayla's gaze flicks to a few of the others in the lobby; the prostitutes, the drug addicts, the cop on desk duty due to injury. "No," the woman says softly. "I don't think so." No jobs that 'complement' her power. Ever.

Her attention is drawn back to the detective when Elisabeth speaks, and Kayla responds with a curt nod. "Thank you," she replies, for form's sake; mostly because of the filing, and not the congratulations. Business now over and done with, the healer departs back the way she came — and away from all of these people.

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