Participants:
| Scene Title | Color Coding is Key |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Peyton and Brennan meet up in staples. Both manage to talk about secret things without giving them away and sounding like a very mundane normal conversation. |
| Date | February 27, 2010 |
Staples, the supply superstore!
Saturday morning finds Peyton Whitney in one of the least likely places — in fact, it's a place she's never set a foot in for all her years of existence: an office supply store. Staples, to be precise. The once-socialite, now "future-murderer" to put it in Cardinal's terms, looks a little bemused as she wanders through the giant warehouse full of office supplies. Really, how many aisles of highlighters and pencil sharpeners does the world need? She still sports the oversized sunglasses, this time a Dior pair, to help hide her ugly raccoon eyes, though the bruises have faded to an unwholesome shade of yellow and blue-green. Her upper lip is no longer crooked from being puffy on just one side, but the cut is still evident in the left corner of her mouth.
The brunette carries a basket in one hand as she turns down the aisle she's looking for — file folders and filing systems. She's determined to make more sense of the Endgame files. Color-coding will be key!
As she turns down that aisle, there's a familiar face, walking down as well with a girl, both with their hands flying though it's Brennan who's the only one talking. "You do not need a Cellphone. Or new shoes right now. We're here to get stuff for your science project not go shopping for ne-" He's cut off by the flurry of hands and fingers from Marlena at his side. "Uhuh, no. You can go shopping with your mom for shoes, I'm not going to spend eight hours picking between three shades of pink. Your mother would kill me. So, just supplies for your science project, and if you manage to finish that, I promise she will tak-" He's cut off again. Amazing that someone who speaks, can get cut off by someone who can't hear.
"Well then I guess your grandmother loves you more Marlena, but the fact is, this is not a shopping, shopping trip. So, grab what you need from here so that we can get back to your mo-" He's not cut off this time by the eight year old by his side but by the familiar sight, even in sunglasses. "The great Peyton Whitney. In a staples. Will wonders never cease" Nor do his hands, making sure his daughter is kept in the conversation.
Peyton's eyes are wandering over the wall to wall array of file folders, looking a little overwhelmed when Brennan says her name and draws her attention to him and Marlena. "Doc!" she says with a grin, clearly pleased to see him. Aaron might hate Dr. Brennan, but Peyton likes him anyway. She draws nearer, though she keeps the sunglasses on, glancing down at the little girl with the fast-flying fingers. "Hi," she says to the girl, adding a little wave, before looking back up at the doctor. "I'm not great, but it is my first time in an office superstore. Who knew they made so many color file folders? Now I have to decide if my four-color plan needs to be explanded… I could have subcategories in the varying shades of blue!" She sounds chipper enough despite looking a touch like hell — but when doesn't she look like hell?
"Sometimes, Whitney, the simpler the better. Especially if others are meant to understand and access these files." he points out. "You want to sub-categorize, then you can do like our medical folders and add colors stickers to the tabs of the folders. I can't remember if I've introduced you to marlena or not. Marlena, meet Peyton, Petyon, this my oldest. Don't worry, she lip reads. For the most part" His eye slight on her lip and there's a raise of brows. "Run into the doorknob?"
"That's true. Stickers. I didn't think of that." Her head turns slightly to glance at the organizational accessories. "These people have too much time on their hands to come up with stuff like this." So says the woman who doesn't work. "Hi Marlena," she says, turning back to the little girl, and smiling. She chuckles lightly at Brennan's question — which make her speculate on what scenarios are running through his mind. After all, Cat assumed it had been Kain Zarek's doing. "A doorknob by the name of Danko," she says lightly, not sure if Brennan knows the name or not. "I'm all right. It looks worse than it is. How are you?"
Name doesn't really mean anything to him. "Pop him one back next time, give him good as you get. Not that I advocate violence but, you know" He doesn't advocate men hitting women either. "We're good, just picking out stuff for Marlena's project, the ever standard Volcano so we got the hobby store to hit up too. Get back to Michelle and the girls. Looking forward to getting back into the swing of things since our vacation" The one they took to grand central terminal while the girls went to grandmothers house.
HF. If you ever meet him. Just so you know," Peyton says softly since the reaction shows he isn't familiar with the name. "Volcano? I think I did that once. It didn't blow up when it was supposed to, right? It was a dud. So we stowed all the volcano's in the classroom on the counter. Mine blew up a day late, in the middle of class," Peyton says, grinning at the small girl, then glancing back up at Brennan. It's hard to tell where she's looking due to the glasses, but the tilt of her head from child to man is obvious enough. "Vacation? Where'd you get to go? I could use a vacation, seriously." Vacation from what? The girl doesn't work!
"We went to the coast, for Valentines and my birthday, just Michelle and I. Girls went to their grandparents" Volcanoes though. Marlena's hands move again, grinning brightly as she starts firing off questions about Peyton's volcano. How big was it? Did you paint it brown and red and white? What was your grade Brennan's stuck translating for Peyton's benefit with a laugh. "Careful, she'll talk your ear off"
"How romantic," Peyton says with a smile. Brennan deserves a nice wife and kids. She laughs and looks down at Marlena. "I got a D because it went off all by itself instead of when it was supposed to," she admits. "And I think it was about two feet. It was brown but I added little trees and shrubs and mountain goats and stuff that I bought at a craft store. And a little mountain biker guy. Yours will probably be way better and you'll get an A, because I kind of was a bad student when I was your age." Not for lack of wit, but for lack of ambition. She gives a chagrined glance at Brennan, with a small shrug. No reason to lie to the kid.
"Very romantic" Taking care of people illegally experimented on and hooked onto narcotics. How many times had he had to change his clothes and assure someone it wasn't their fault they threw up on him. "I can't wait to do it again. Marlena, why do youuuu go get what you need okay? And pick me up some markers, I need some okay?"
The young girl nods, tear off across the aisle and down to another aisle. "So, what are you doing that your organizing files. I'd think that you'd have someone who does it for you" He reaches over to pick up some folders with flowers and swirls on them already. "How's your friend, Aaron… " He can't quite remember the last name. "How's he doing with his ability"
There's a grin as the girl disappears, and Peyton pushes her glasses up onto her head so she can better peruse the goods. It's hard to really see the colors when they're shaded by ultra-violet-ray protection! "He seems fine with the power… I guess just accepting that he needs to do it, he just does, and doesn't avoid it anymore, so that means he doesn't go in withdrawal. He usually goes and hums or something I think out in public and gets a little bit from a lot of different people. I'm not really sure. I don't get how it works, but then I've never been good with science. Obviously!" Dating back to failed volcano projects, obviously. "And I'm not … rich rich. It'd be silly to pay someone to file when I have no real job and can do it myself. Besides, it's not the sort of thing you can hire people to do," she says with a shrug. She picks up a bundle of color files, and puts them in her basket.
"Should come spend a day in the clinic and let one of my receptionists show you their system. Brennan walks over, looking at what she picked up and then back to the shelves of file folders. "How many categories do you need?" He's already picking up some clear sticks, squares to be put onto the tabs and tossing it into her basket. "You'll want a fine tip sharpie, to label them as well. Boxes to hold the files, or if you have a cabinet, that. The sticks, you can divid the categories up further, so category A, with a red sticker for one sub category within it, and then blue for something else. If it belongs in more than one sub category, you just stick a blue and a red or whatever appropriate category colored sticker on it"
"Oh, that works well for cross referencing, yeah," Peyton says, not having thought of that. She thinks to herself, counting on her fingers. "I … to be honest I'm not sure. It's sort of … constantly changing. Probably at least ten categories. Maybe the stickers are better than the folders… or main category color for folders, and then sub category stickers…" Too much to figure out for her small brain! But, exerting control by organizing the file system feels somehow empowering. She can't control the actual things that will go in the files — Pinehearst, Humanis First, PARIAH, Rebel, the Company — whatever else there is. But she can at least control where they go in the filing system! "We have cabinets." We? She is not very good at being a super-secret member of a super-secret organization.
Well, He's reaching into her basket, plucking out the colored folders, opting for plain ones and then dividers, and more colored tags of varying colors, some lain, some neon, enough to make ten. "Then screw the colors, and go for tags. Dividers will help. Get your system down, if you need to change it, you need to change it. Who you working for?" Idle curiosity really and he gestures for her to follow.
Peyton looks amused as he takes over. Doctor types. Have to find the solution for everything! "I… no one. It's some of the old Shard stuff, since we dismantled the hospital there more or less. I didn't think anyone should access the files we had there but they got all disorganized when I moved them," she lies, cheeks coloring a little. She pushes her glasses back down over her eyes as she follows him. "I don't have a job, remember? I get a trust fund check." That's the truth, at least.
"Just because you have money, doesn't mean you can't work" There's post it's tossed into her basket, peelable tag ones, normal eyllow ones, ones with arrows. A couple sharpies in black, red, green and blue, some highlighters as well. "You're set I think. I'm pretty sure, wait" Stapler, staples and paperclips. "There you go, incidentals" He nods though, to the news of the hospital there.
"Well, that's true. I know my friend Wendy is working, even though she doesn't need the money. Or she was, anyway. But really, I have no valuable work skills. Anything that would pay me would probably cost me more than it would pay me in the long run. I don't have any delusions of being a high powered business woman, believe me." She grins a little and nods at her basket. "Thanks for the help. I'll let you get back to Volcano shopping."
"Depends. There's always going to school" He points out, about to talk some more when the store wide intercom crackles to life. "Would Mr-" A pause. "Would Dr. Brennan please come to the front desk. Your daughter has lost you" Which only makes the physician roll his eyes. "Volcano shopping. Take care Ms. Whitney" And he's strolling off, to go be 'found'
"Good luck," Peyton says with a chuckle. "Sorry to have gotten you lost." As he strolls off, her expression grows pensive. School. Something a normal 21 year old might consider, but Peyton has been far from normal for a long time. She smiles and follows to the front of the store, but to pay for her supplies and bring them to the library.