I Like The Way You Think


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Scene Title I Like The Way You Think
Synopsis Curt and Minea play pool, discuss his ability, bagging and tagging Robert Pattison so they can nair him, rookies and opt to head bakc to her place so that they can sit in her bedroom, watch explosions and make Magnes turn red.
Date June 15, 2009

Fat Cat Billiards

Fat Cat Billiards is far more than just a bar. Equipped with a plethora of tables for pool, ping-pong, shuffleboard, chess, checkers, backgammon and scrabble sets to satisfy a mob, as they say, it's almost like an adult arcade. A barely noticeable layer of smoky haze hangs in the air, and smooth Jazz plays over the speakers as the boisterous crowd goes about their business of occupying their time in whatever way they choose.

The bar looks to be fully stocked with a wide array of beers on tap and bottles, and enough of the harder stuff to satisfy most palettes. The tenders are as friendly as one might expect (it keeps the tip jars filled, after all) and are usually pretty competent when it comes to filling orders, although there's little showmanship. Just a good drink served at a reasonable price here.

It's not Tuesday. That is obvious. It's just Monday. But the message left on his phone, Curts that it, was to get his ass down to the Fat Cat's Billiard in Greenwhich. She was calling the drinking night a day early.

Minea was there already, and like he'd commended there was a skirt and a shirt on. A black satin one that ended above her knees but was tight. Impossible heels and some blouse that showed skin and the ink on it that probably cost a pretty penny. She'd already claimed a table and was nursing a rum and coke, easy on the coke.

Curt walks into the pool hall and eyes the place with a touch of derision and more then a touch of dismissal. He has his 'bad ass in a bar' look down pat. He heads for Minea and stops at her table, "So, ready to get older quicker?" he asks with a small grin as he waves over a server and demands a beer.

"I already spent a lifetime in five days on a beach in France" Minea points out. "I saw your dossier. So, just being around you for one evening, how much does that shorten my lifespan?" There's a bottle of beer ordered for herself as she finishes off her first drink. "Socialize outside of work much?"

Curt chuckles, "By exactly the amount of time you spend with me. Basically? As long as you're with me you age twice as fast. One day is two, two months if four, five years is a decade, etc." he flops down into a seat and props his feet up on the next nearest chair, "I sleep in the holding cells. What do you think?" he asks, rolling his eyes Minea's way. "I don't do 'out'. I'm not a real people person."

"Yeah, I heard about the cell thing. Got ya something for it" She leans over, a cardboard tube propped up beside her purse. "Cause, you should have decorations in there. As for the whole, shortened life. Look what we do. I could die tomorrow. No excuse to not take you out for drinks, get you some human contact. Crotchety old men shouldn't wither away in cells"

Curt eyes the tube and reaches over to pluck it up, "Slept in worse places. Shoulda been in the jungle." he opens the tube and pulls out it's contents, "And for future reference, I thought withering away in cells was exactly what old men were for?"

"No, that's front porches, in rocking chairs. Besides, you don't look it, therefore, you shouldn't be doing it" Minea gestures to the pool sticks crossed on the felt. "Like my present? I thought long and hard what to get Veronica's partner. What could every man want, but never gets"

Curt eyes the kitten, "A foursome with three cheerleaders?" he asks as he smirks at the poster. Inevitably there will be a holding cell with that poster hanging in it by the end of business tomorrow. It goes back in the tube and his beer arrives all at once. "Looks mean nothing. That chick in those famous books that's fucking that vampire? Call whatever you want, it's still a seventeen year old little girl fucking a one hundred and nine year old dead guy. I'm pretty sure that's statutory rape mixed with necrophilia." he sips the beer, "I'm pretty but I'm also almost seventy. I could be your grandfather, you take your grandpa out for drinks?"

"Probably, if he was alive. Ours is a close knit family" 17 year old girls screwing va… "Are you talking about those.. twilight books? Hate to disappoint you but, I have better things to do with my time than sit and read about sparkling vampires. But yes, I would. Actually I regularly go drinking with a gentleman who is considerably older than me, because his wife has long since passed and I find I enjoy his company. Another Crotchety old men and no it's not a fetish"

Curt just eyes her, "I don't know what they're called, but they're on the internet all the damned time. That guy from the movie thing has ridiculous hair. I wanna hold his head under water until it's clean. Seriously." he frowns unhappily. "Older men huh. Cute. Wear short skirts and tight shirts for him too?" he asks curiously as he hits the beer.

"Nope. We kinda sit, on the back porch of the precinct over in the heights, and eat. Occasionally we head out and get a beer. Nature of his ability doesn't lend well to people. Met him through another cop. We kinda hit it off. I like drinking buddies, what can I say" Fancy hair, yeah, sounds like the twilight teenagers. "Tell you what, I wonder.. if we can get him put down for a bag and tag. His evo ability, hair. We could probably get it shaved. Make a fortune on Ebay"

Curt shakes his head, "Fuck shaving. Nair him from head to toe, and I can totally forge a BnT order like no one's business." he seems actually serious. "I suggest we tazer, not tranq though. Just on principle." Cause it hurts more. "Right, another old man that can't be with people. Wow, more of us then I thought."

"But we can't make money off of him if we nair" She points out. "And you just want to see him writhe is all" She grabs her beer, done with her drink and moving to the second. "Now, you too old to play pool?"

Curt nods his head, "I do. I'd let you shave him, but only if I got to beat on him first. I like baseball." frightening how those two things connect. "Nope. Haven't played in a decade or two though so no promises as to skill." he stands, taking his beer with him.

"We do have healers" Minea points out. Whether that's agreement or not. She shifts off her chair, heading for a pool cue to toss towards curt, and take one up herself. "So. I assume they rotate partners out on you often?"

Curt snags the cue and starts to chalk it instantly, "True. And I /do/ like the thought of beating that ass to a pulp." he pauses to blow on the tip, "Two year max sentence as my partner, the longest anyone's ever made it was one year two months." casts a bit of a shadow on him as one can imagine.

"I think I can survive a few hour sin your company now and then. If you can endure mine. Smart ass mouthy teenager that I am. You first. Age before beauty"

Curt just smiles at her, "Sadly I have both. Does this mean I go twice?" he sets up the shot and breaks with a crack! The balls scatter far and wide, none go in. He frowns. "Figures."

'Ohh, little vain are we? I dunno, I think I see a some crows feet there by your eyes" He's left it wide open for her to take her pleasure from on the table and leaning over, lining up the cue ball with a solid, it sinks in easily.

Curt nods his head, "That's okay, by the end of the night you'll have them and I'll have that Cover Girl skin of yours. Even trade." he quips back at her. he heads over to his beer assuming it'll be a long wait before he's up for another shot.

Not a long wait at all, her shot goes awry, she's not that great at playing either, and doe sit just for fun. Or maybe she though he'd like it. "What world are you living in? I got no cover girl skin. I got crows feet already. But I'll take yours. Willing sacrifice so that V can crow about her partner and his fountain of youth"

Curt grins a bit, "Vee doesn't crow about me, trust me." he says as he walks over to take his shot, and again fails to sink one… Though, he does get it 'almost' in, the ball ending up bouncing around the pocket and ending sitting there on the edge. "Gah."

"You really are terrible at this" Minea shakes her head. "So, besides sitting in a room with your stuff, and the gym, what do you do for entertainment? I mean, realy. You're 68 years old. There has to have been a hobby or two that you've enjoyed. You have to have some passion in your life"

Curt shrugs, "Twenty years." he points out to her again. "I did." he says simply, "But I almost killed both of them." he doesn't seem that apologetic about his life. "For fun I hunt down dangerous monstrous people with extraordinary abilities and them full of tranqs and electrical current so that I can safely remove them from the populace and then lock them away in cages where they belong." tell us how you really feel. "And I told you, I used to like baseball, but since the strike in 94 I've gone back to football, college mostly." more lack of apology. "Oh. And I sometimes enjoy a hooker."

"I can see the reason for the hooker. Baseball, never a big fan, but football" Minea takes her shot this time, failing to sink another one and thus the turn goes over to curt. "Virginia Tech for me. You?"

Curt lines up on the felt again, "My Pa was from New York, his Pa before him, oddly enough we've always been a Notre Dame family. Don't ask me why. When I was growing up they were a powerhouse, a wicked team that seemed unstoppable, these days Charlie Wiez has driven them so far under ground that if they come back they'll be zombies." he pauses for a moment, "Oh. And I beat upon rookies. That's fun." he finally sinks a shot, then another, "Heck yeah." of course the third is just awful and misses entirely.

"Ohhh, when is a rookie, no longer a rookie, that's my question" her turn. In goes one, she has to go up on her toes, not that she's not already on them thanks to the shoes. "I have to agree with you about good ol' Charlie. But it'd be an interesting game. Wonder if the pig skin will be pigbrain… "

Curt shrugs, "Dunno. When they stop sucking?" he offers. He smirks at that imagery, "Romero movies for life. Hoo-hah." a Ranger grunt of approval.

"So do I still suck? I'm only 3 months into the job" She lines up again, bending over the table and firing off a solid to ricochet across the table and hit a multitude of others. But not sink into the pockets.

Curt shrugs, "Don't know you. Couldn't say." he admits freely as he picks his own shot, and chalks the cue, "You might. So what's your gig?" he asks, shooting her a look, "Evo? Not? Military? CPA? School teacher?"

"Not. Military Intelligence. Document verification and Forgery. smooth move there ex-lax. I'll be nice, you can try again" Her beer bottle picked up and s good mouthful consumed. "Divorced, side business in Art Consultation that has sadly, gone to the side. Not enough time."Her bottle goes down with a clink.

Curt snorts, "Military Intelligence. Remind me to kick your ass later on principle. You guys almost got me killed like nine times outside of Hanoi." he takes his shot, sinks it, but then scratches too. "Fuck. Also twice in uh… other places." he shoots her a look. Rangers lead the way… even to places they never ahem… went.

"You want to kick someone else's ass, not mine. I got shuffled around to make Identification sets and other documents. Occasionally sit pretty and wear a wire or take pictures" At this rate, this game is going to take forever with the way they play. "Army. and if things are right, I wasn't in the service till you were out of it" She points out. "You want my father's ass to kick"

Curt nods his head, "Yes I do. Gimme his phone, SSN, and serial number if you don't mind. I have about twelve inches of combat boot that needs to see the inside of his colon." They do indeed suck. "I did private security after the war. Good money in that actually." he ponders, "Huh, I don't think about it but I believe I'm actually quite rich." he blinks as if that surprises him somehow. He eats and sleeps at the Company, his checks are direct deposit, he had good money before, hasn't checked his investments or accounts in nearly two decades, about the time he stopped caring about such stuff. "What do you know. Then again, the market crashed, so there's a chance I don't wanna look." he shrugs and goes back to the game seemingly unworried about his financial status.

"Dad's dead. You won't be actually getting that boot up there" She fails to sink her ball, but sinks one of Curt's pool balls. Great. Give him an advantage. "Congratulations. Wonder if you're richer than bill gates. Probably richer than Oprah"

Curt shakes his head, "Doubt it. I only had about two hundred grand in there when I started. Might be a millionaire though. Maybe I should buy a fancy car now, something snazzy. What's popular these days? They still make a good Charger or Caddy?" he's been driving around in Company issues Crown Vic's for so long …. oi. "Need another beer." he takes his shot without seeming to care and of course makes it. He pauses, "Okay, not yet it would seem. Another shot, then a third. Leaves him with the eightball. He eyes her, "Wanna put money on the game?" he asks with a grin.

"Fifty bucks, says you'll skin it" Minea even goes so far as to fetch her purse and fish out the fifty and slap it on the side.

Curt eyes her, "Skin it?" he seems confused, "Kids and your fancy words." he teases.

You say, "Chalk it, whatever you want to call it" Minea waves a hand, returning to her beer."

Curt eyes the ball and shrugs. He of course misses that shot, because he made three in a row which always means he chokes. He frowns at it as if the ball betrayed him.

Minea leans in, shoulder to shoulder. "We could just call the game quits and go see a movie. Surely there's something out there that garners the attention of crotchety old men?"

Curt chuckles a bit, "The last time I saw a movie in a theater is was Leathal Weapon, before they started putting numbers on the end of them. Good flick though."

You say, "Good god. Well. I'll take the chance on some brow wrinkles. Get your jacket, finish your beer. We're getting a taxi. You really need to get out" MInea's firm in that. "And no, this is not an attempt to get in your bed""

Curt eyes her, "No one wants to get into my bed. I sleep on a concrete slab with a padded roll." he points out, "Now, you getting me in /your/ bed that I believe." he reaches over and snags up his coat without preamble and leaves the cue on the table.

"I live next door to the boss and have a 21 year old gravokinetic who obsesses with superhero's sleeping in my spare room. you really wanna get into my bed?" Her pool cue is tossed onto the table, purse and jacket snatched up and put on, slung over shoulder. "besides, your still married. Hookers or not. I don't tread other womans territories. Leads to nasty nasty cat fights and a bullet in the head"

Curt snickers at that, "She thinks I died 20 years ago." he says simply, "Not even sure if we're still married." his tone suggests he's not going to check anytime soon either. He's afraid of what he might find out, after all, he still calls her his wife. "What's the gravo-whosie-whatsit gonna do to me? Make me float?" he says with a twisting smirk, "Besides I'm betting I met him recently. Kid? Kinda goofy? Rookie?"

"acts like we're all men in black. yeah, probably met him. He's got a thing for anything with boobs that walks I think. Managed to scare him off, I think he's afraid of, you know, tying him to a chair, suppressing his ability and then interrogating him" SHe'll derail off the wife topic. "I think we'd make his head explode in embarassment if we did"

Curt shrugs, "What? No one had 'the talk' with him? I hate to say it but eventually he's gonna have to find out about sex, otherwise you'll have a bunch of little gravo-whoie-whatsits running amok making people float and causing all manner of havoc." he follows her out into the parking lot, "So where to now?"

"Taxi, movie theater, then… We could hightail it to my place and sit in my bedroom with lots of alcohol, junk food and make lewd noises and see how long till he leaves the apartment…."

Curt smiles wickedly, "Kid, I like the way you think." he thumps her on the shoulder with a fist, "I think we'll get along just fine… wait. you're not gonna make me watch some sappy bullshit chick flick." it's not a question. "Whatever we see someone better die by explosion. I'll settle for bullets, but only if there are lots of them."

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