Hacking Scout


boyce_icon.gif veronica3_icon.gif

Scene Title Hacking Scout
Synopsis Boyce is delighted to be out of the hospital and without a priso— er, home.
Date February 4, 2011

St. Luke's Hospital

St. Luke's Hospital is known for its high-quality care and its contributions to medical research. Its staff place an emphasis on compassion for and sensitivity to the needs of their patients and the communities they serve. In addition to nearby Columbia University, the hospital collaborates with several community groups, churches, and programs at local high schools. The associated Roosevelt Hospital offers a special wing of rooms and suites with more amenities than the standard hospital environment; they wouldn't seem out of place in a top-rated hotel. That said, a hospital is a hospital — every corridor and room still smells faintly of antiseptic.

Once upon a time, Veronica Sawyer led a semi-charmed kind of life, where her timing was good and her luck even better. This week, one could say timing was once more on her side. She wasn't at work, thanks to the mandatory leave for being a part of Goodman's team on the non-sanctioned mission. She wasn't even on Roosevelt Island.

The mandated leave, likely meant to be a punishment, then, is more like a vacation.

Unfortunately for Agent Boyce, his free time has been spent in a hospital, but that's all about to change.

The door to his private room opens, courtesy of one of the doctors, and Veronica enters, dressed casually in tight faded jeans, a shearling-lined leather bomber jacket, and black biker boots. "Get dressed, slacker, time to blow this popsicle stand," she tosses to her colleague.

Some incarnations of Sterling Boyce actually loved the hospital stay. Carter had enjoyed it when the nurse read to him and let him play with his plastic dinosaur figurines on his dinner tray. He'd insisted his throat hurt and he needed a popsicle.

Charles hadn't minded the nurses themselves, taking great pains to pay attention to the nurses.

Everyone else? Well they wanted out of bed.

Especially Grayer Merck. Although Grayer reprogrammed his IV early on to give him more meds than warranted. That's when they switched him to oral anti-inflammatories instead of the good pain killers. Fail.

And so Grayer has been playing solataire. Hours of solataire. Which is probably why his lips twitch high on one side as his colleague enters the room. She's given an arch of his brow and he proclaims, "You're a sight for sore eyes?" There's a flicker in the smile, a shy flash of teeth as he lowers the cards to the table. Although his smile fails a moment, "Going back I guess? Decided I'm not dying…?"

"To be honest, if there was a 'back' to put you, you'd probably be out already," Veronica says with a smirk. "You didn't watch the television or read any papers while you were recuperating? Lazy ass. The Suresh Center's under some sort of dome or globe caused by someone's ability. Like a forcefield. No way in or out," she explains, moving to the cabinet where his things are kept and pulling out the duffel bag of clothing she'd brought for him earlier in the week, when he was still too drugged up to remember her stopping by. The clothing is all new — since his own is on Roosevelt Island.

"Which means we're not only on leave because we're bad rebel children that have been grounded, we actually couldn't go into work if we wanted to. Or, we'd have to go to some other office, like DHS most likely. I'm glad to have the time off. Going to accidentally turn my phone off, too, until my time's up." She winks. It's probably a lie, hard to tell.

"But you don't need to stay here any longer, and your normal Dumb and Dumber baby sitters are stuck in the bubble. Thus, you're stuck with me." There's a dimpled smile at that.

There's a broad grin that spreads over Boyce's lips. "Are you shitting me?!" but even with the question he's already slid off the bed and trailed over to the cabinet. The multicoloured scrub pants he's dressed in make him seem more like a clown than a patient, perhaps that was Carter's motivation. Grayer didn't care. Jack would have changed. So many facets, so many levels of dignity.

"I guess I'm all yours then, aren't I?" the bright twinkle in his blue eyes is unmissable, unmistakeable. He reaches over to take the bag. "Where we goin' boss? Nothing institutional, I hope?" his eyebrows arch expectantly as he tugs his hospital issue shirt over his head and replaces it with a grey t-shirt from the bag. "Or we gonna play hooky entirely for a few days?"

Veronica can't help but grin at his broad grin — sure, he might require handlers because he's got a psychopathic personality in there, somewhere, but she can't help but like him. And she's the one who killed without blinking an eye in their last mission.

"We're still on leave, so I don't plan on working. I'm only too happy to take some time off work. What do you want to do? The city's our oyster, except you know, there's a big part of it covered by a globe and there's another part with a big crater in it — but other than that? Wherever you'd like to go, we can go."

Wide-eyed and full of wonder like a kid in a candy store, Boyce musses his hair, "Holy crap! I don't even know— OH MAN! We need to do something amazing! Veronica!!! Think of the possibilities!!! Can we go to the park?! I can't remember the last time I was in a park just to be in a park…"

"OR! Is there somewhere to ride a ferris wheel in this city still?! I used to LOVE LOVE LOVE ferris wheels! Best high a person can get without, well, you know," his smile turns a little shy, "actually getting high." He winks and finishes changing before strapping the duffle back over his shoulder. "AND! Fritters. I love fritters! I haven't had a fritter in ages!"

His eagerness brings out an actual laugh from the usually stoic and jaded agent. "Yeah, we can go to a park. Central Park's pretty amazing, if a bit cold, even this time of year. I don't think there's a working Ferris Wheel in the city but we can go somewhere that has one. We have a few days, right? I'll be your chauffeur and your plus-one, we can do all the stuff you haven't been able to. It'll be fun."


Veronica hasn't done anything for the simple sake of fun in longer than she's been in this city, not that she can remember. It's a strange and frightening concept.

Boyce reaches for Veronica's hand to twirl her in a tight circle. "And I will be your jester, your entertainer, and your constant entertainment director!" he tugs on his collar with fake proud, puffing his chest as he does so before he issues Veronica a broader grin. "OH OH OH! I know what else we can do!! It will be soooo fun— we need to go paint balling!" he nods sagely at this as his eyes widen. "AND I need to cook you dinner. I used to be able to make this incredible lentil-rice food. Delicious, spicy— exotic…" his eyes rolls to the ceiling as he shrugs and grants her a small bow.

"It's been years since I've seen the city! Years!!" Even if its entire topography has changed.

Another rare and genuine laugh parts Veronica's lips as she's suddenly twirled, and she shakes her head one she's released, tucking her hands in her pockets. "Paintballing and me, we don't get along. And I'd rather take the week off of guns, if I can." Though spoken lightly, there's a little furrow of her brow.

She moves to the cupboard to grab his coat, tossing it his way. "I'll, uh, step outside while you get your pants on," she murmurs. As if she hasn't seen what lies beneath, but that was more than a month ago. And a Mistake.

"Your paperwork's all ready to go, just need our signature." She steps outside into the hall.

"I can live without guns. Oh man! I'm Can't hit the blind side of a barn anyways— " which Veronica should know by now. Grayer has no aim; Jack is the one with the mad skillz. "Oh man! This week is going to be awesome! I should take you to this ice cream stand I used to go to. OR Gray Papaya— is that what it's called?" he's not really asking her, he's asking himself, "— unless you don't eat hot dogs, but then who doesn't eat hot dogs?! I even think they have a fake one if you're a vegetarian. Which. I don't think you are— " his excitement is only stalled when she tosses him his coat. He catches the jacket and shoots her a smirk as she leaves the room.

Moments later he's joining her, all changed and ready to roll. "So. Where to first? Lady Liberty? The Grand Canyon?" His nose wrinkles, however, as he recalls something— his plants are inside the dome. Darnit.

There's a wrinkle of her nose at the mention of hot dogs, but she won't tell him no. "The Statue of Liberty," she repeats with a shake of her head. Like they're tourists. It's actually rather cute.

"Wherever you want to go, Boyce. Ice skating at Central Park, maybe?" She smirks at the idea of Institute agents ice skating. "Anything not resembling work at all is fair game. Just don't do anything dumb that makes me throw you in handcuff, all right?

There's a pained look on Boyce's face as he motions to himself with a shrug. Why would he do anything wrong? Blame Charles. Or Jack. Although the pain lasts but a moment. Easily he lets it melt away as he shuffling beside her much like a schoolboy trying to get the popular girl's attention. "Hey. Hey. Hey, Veronica. Veronica~ Vee?" he's beaming now. "Can we find somewhere to get cotton candy too?" It seems there's a lot he's been deprived of while imprinted on Boyce's body.

"We should go skating like. Tomorrow. And we should make a picnic even though it's freezing outside. I can't remember the last time I ate anything outside!" a finger taps his chin. "And you need to choose something to do too! I can't be alone in this. We could.. hmmm. You look like the kind of gal who would appreciate— wait. Is the ferry still running?" His eyes light up. "Like one of them. Or something? I used to LOVE ferryboats." His own usage of the phrase 'used to' actually causes his face to contort, "I mean.. I probably still love them?"

"Shhh. Quit acting like you've never been outside," she whispers as she approaches the charge desk, where the nurse hands them the clipboard with his release papers. "We could go to a hockey game. They have cotton candy, and then it's other people falling on their asses on the ice instead of me."

A wheelchair is brought around for him to sit in, and Veronica smirks. Hospital policy paradox — you're healthy enough to leave the hospital, but not on your own two feet. "There are still ferries. We can take the one that goes around the statue. It'll be freezing and I will whine every minute of it. You are forewarned."

"YESSSSS! At the good old hockey game~ It's the best game you can name~ And the best game you can name~" he hums the rest of the tune having forgotten most the lyrics. Boyce arches an eyebrow at the wheelchair. It's probably good that Grayer is at the helm, there's no way Jack would permit them to wheel him out.

Both of his eyebrows raise high on his forehead as he peeks up at Veronica. "I could keep you warm… " there's a sparkle in his eyes and a good natured grin at his lips. The mild flirtation aside, he shrugs his shoulders. "I can deal with a little whining, believe me." His hands grasp the arms and he cranes his neck to look at her, "It's all smoooooth sailing~"

The nurse pushing Boyce smirks and gives a knowing look to Veronica, who merely snorts and pulls out her sunglasses. "I'll go pull the car up," she says simply.

A few moments later, her green Jaguar pulls up to the curb, and Boyce is allowed to get up and into the front seat. "To the ferry, then," she says, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket to hand to him. "Check and see if the Rangers, Islanders or Devils are playing tonight or tomorrow in town. Hell, even the Sabres. We can drive. They didn't expressly tell me to keep you within the tristate area."

Boyce beams at Veronica as he slides into the passenger seat and clutches the phone. He couldn't be happier. They're heading to the FERRY. THE FERRY. His fingers slide over the keys. "Looks like the Sabres are playing tomorrow and if we get out of the tristate area no one will know. I will tell no one. Scout's honour." He holds up two fingers before lowering them. "But you should know, I was never a boyscout. More of the… hacking scout." If that's such a thing. "I have another request— can I not work on a single computer for a week? I'd really like to stay away from tech for awhile— "

"A hacking scout." She hopes that's not the psychopath's childhood speaking up. "Yeah, we can stay away from computers. I plan to keep my phone off as much as possible, myself. They can't call me in if they can't reach me, right?" She's teasing, mostly — since she has him under her wing, she'll have to check email and voicemail at least.

She turns her car out of the parking lot to head in the direction of the ferry docks — the only detour will be a drive-thru Starbucks for a triple toffee nut latte. Veronica's going to need the caffeine to keep up with Boyce, she has a feeling.

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