I'll Get it to You


daphne_icon.gif odessa4_icon.gif

Scene Title I'll Get it to You
Synopsis Odessa offers Daphne a job and vaguely explains her situation to her friend.
Date August 22, 2010

Abandoned Tram Station

Towering high over the streets of Roosevelt Island, running parallel to the Queensboro Bridge, the rusted iron tower of the Roosevelt Island Tramway lies in a state of disuse and disrepair. Cable cars that once followed the bridge into midtown Manhattan lie spraypainted with graffiti, windows shattered. Surrounded by a chain-link fencing plastered with "NO TRESSPASSING" signs, the fence is falling down in places where residents have kicked down the chain-link to get access to the tram cars as shelter.

With much of the surrounding area beneath the Queensboro Bridge, noise from the traffic of the bridge deck overhead drowns out other, quieter sounds and creates an almost constant sound of mechanical noise in the area, along with the creak and groan of straining metal from the old tram station.

I have a job for you. Roos Is. Tram. Tomorrow. Dawn.

Pay-as-you-go cellphones are a blessing when one is trying to avoid alerting peopl to their presence. But they're a pain in the ass when you receive a text from one and have no way of knowing if that number will even be in service if you try to call it back. But when you're Daphne Millbrook and your ability is a near perfection of the art of the getaway, sometimes it's not quite as scary to answer text messages from strange phone numbers. It helps when that strange number leaves a signature.

Even if that signature is from a ghost.

The first rays of light are only beginning to illuminate the abandoned tram station. It's almost spookier in the shadows cast from dawn's light than it is shrouded in the dark. The bridge deck is quiet at this hour. The first commuters only beginning to trickle out after curfew to start their days. The occasional vehicle sends up a quiet roar over the sounds of creaking metal. It's almost unbearably humid this morning. A coffee shop would have been a nicer meeting place. Whatever the reason for being called out here, it must require an amount of secrecy.

The blur of color that denotes to a quick eye Daphne Millbrook's approach is today mostly cream, red and white — a red tank top and white shorts plus the cream of her flesh and the off-white of her hair. The text was scrutinized for a few moments before it made sense. Roos Island? Isn't that Australia?

But no. It's a place that has only been the locale of the most nightmarish moments of her life for the past several months. Danko trying to blow her up. Her sickness at the Den. The flight from the Den to the bookstore, where she learned why Corbin had been so distant, only to be passed on once more to the hands of the Ferry. The hospital where Hiro was being cared for, and the frightening moments with Samson Gray before being hurled into 1945.

This is not a place Daphne wants to be, but a job is a job.

When that blur solidifies into a solid form, Daphne peers, looking for the blonde woman she assumes sent her the message.

It isn't a blonde, but a woman with white hair who ducks out of an abandoned tram car. Shaggy locks frame a familiar face pitted with new scars, her left eye covered by a black patch. Are those… Is it trimmed in silver sequins? "You look good," Odessa murmurs. She certainly doesn't. "I honestly wasn't sure you would come out here…"

Debris shifts under the woman's boots as she meanders slowly toward Daphne. "I'm supposed to be dead, after all," Odessa explains quietly. "Means I can't wander too far." She shakes her head and offers a smile. A scar across her mouth twists and dimples awkwardly. "I need your help. I need you to steal something for me. From me, in a way."

"Gale? Odessa?" Daphne says when the woman steps out of the tram car. The abandoned trams bring back to mind that day she met Melissa, when Danko tried to kill them, here. When her power was on the fritz because of the flu. She glances to the tram that Danko had ducked into. The area looks so different when not a winter wasteland. Now, it's just a wasteland.

Her eyes dart back to Odessa. "What the hell happened to you?" she demands, brows knit together with worry.

A little softer, she fidgets, looking like she wants to run, one toe scraping the ground, an agitated bull. "What do you need me to get?"

"I died," the girl with one eye answers simply, cryptically. "I got into a fight that I lost badly. The Ferrymen should believe me dead by now. And possibly a traitor." Odessa trails off for a moment and her renewed smile is sad. "No matter what you hear, know that everything I did was only for the best." Noble intentions used to veil the petty ones.

"I need you to break into my apartment at Gun Hill and steal my files. There's a loose floorboard in the back left of the closet in the bedroom. The file the Company kept on me is there. I need it back. Especially before anybody in the Ferry can find it." Odessa crosses her arms under her chest. Her black tanktop clings a little awkwardly to her skin, covered in a sheen of sweat from the humid air.

Daphne's dark brows knit as she studies Odessa's face. A traitor to the Ferry? Should she help her? Odessa helped her when she needed it. But Ferry — Corbin is allies with the Ferry, and Francois and Teo and the people she tried to help in the Staten raid. She tips her head, surveying Odessa, narrowing her eyes as she thinks.

"Okay. Though I'd rather destroy it. That shit that's going down is so bad, even the Company has people trying to keep their files out of the Institute's hands. Do you actually need the file, or can I just destroy it for you instead? Or, you know. I can grab it, show you I have it, and then we can destroy it. I mean, is there anything in it you don't already know, that you can't just remember for yourself?"

"That file is my life." Emphatic, and perhaps a bit dramatic. Odessa frowns, "That file is all I have left of my parents." Parents she never knew. "The clues to finding out who I am are in there." Definitely overly dramatic, and likely overly simplified as well. "I have no intention of handing my file over to the Institute." Some secrets are hers to keep.

"I'm not saying your concerns are unfounded…" Ruffled skirt flounces slightly as Odessa turns on her heel and begins to pace slowly. "But it's my file. I'm the one who has to face the consequences if it ends up seen by the wrong people." She fixes a serious and imploring look on Daphne. "You understand?"

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it, Gale. Just that … I know people are risking their lives to keep things out of the Institute's hands, so I don't want whatever's in there to go to the wrong people, you know?" Daphne says. "The file isn't anything but words and pictures, and you probably have them all memorized. You're too smart to forget any clues that are in there, 'cause I know you've probably read it a hundred times or more. The pictures, sure you can keep those, but anything that would give the Institute any sort of edge over you or any of us, you should destroy."

Daphne steps off the metaphorical soapbox, and gives a shrug. "I haven't been to your Gun Hill apartment. I'll do it. For free, too. What's the address?"

It's evident in the expression on Odessa's face that Daphne's words are hitting home. "You're right. I just… I worry I'll have missed something important. I promise I'm going to keep it secret. I'm just not ready to let go of it just yet."

White brows hike upward toward uneven bangs in mild surprise. "Free? Daphne… Thanks." Odessa retrieves a slip of paper from a pocket in her skirt and passes it over. "Address is on there. And, uh… See if someone's been looking after my cat? The combination to my safe is on there, too. It's in the clinic in the basement. Help yourself to any of the supplies there. Just avoid the unmarked vials. Some of that stuff will sell well, or it could come in handy. Consider it payment anyway."

"I'm not a total mercenary, 'Dessa," Daphne says with some amusement, reaching for the slip of paper and studying it for a moment. Her own brows rise in regards to the supplies and the safe. "I'll take supplies… they'll help out Francois, maybe," she says, her voice immediately a little softer, fonder for their shared acquaintance. "What's in the unmarked vials?" she asks curiously, reaching to tuck the slip of paper in her pants pocket. "I can go grab the file now, if you wanted."

Thin fingers stretch out, open palms upward in a half shrug. "You do work, you deserve to get paid. Especially if you're being asked to do something you don't necessarily agree with or want to do." Odessa nods. "Francois should make good use of my equipment. He's welcome to anything I've got."

Dark blue gaze fixes on Daphne's. "You don't want to know what's in the unmarked vials. Destroy them if you want, or label them as a hazard. But be careful with them."

"I'm not saying I'm gonna do anything with them. Just asking," Daphne says, dark eyes narrowing a little suspiciously. "And I don't disagree with you having your own file. I just don't want it to come back and bite you in the ass. Or me, for that matter." She flashes a smile. "I like my ass in one piece, you know? Or … is it technically two pieces? I'm not sure how that works. You're the doctor."

"All right. I'll go grab your file and then I'll see about getting Francois the equipment that's in there. You don't care if the Ferry people want any of that?" She'll grab the easy to carry things, vials and drugs, this time, and if there's any larger equipment pieces, she'll ask Francois what he wants her to nab for him.

Either Odessa concedes Daphne's point, or she doesn't see the point in pursuing it further. She smirks faintly at Daphne's… Daphneism. This is why she likes the other woman. "Francois gets first dibs," she responds with a shrug. "He's Ferry sympathetic at the very least anyway. I'll leave all that up to you. It doesn't really matter to me who gets all of that, so long as I get what's mine." She pauses, lips pursing. "If someone hasn't been taking care of 'Inger, would you… Retrieve her for me?"

"File, cat, got it, be back soon," Daphne says, and suddenly Odessa's hair is blown back from her face in the wake of displaced air that Daphne leaves behind. It doesn't take long to run across the water, having to dodge a speedboat, and then get to Queens. The apartment building is easy enough to find, and the only problem is a locked door when she gets to Odessa's apartment. With gloves donned on her hands, lock picks make quick enough work of that obstacle, and in Daphne goes, clicking her tongue for the cat that is noticeably absent. The lack of a cat box and food dish suggest it's been adopted by someone.

After nosing around in the closet, Daphne finds a bag to throw some clothes, just in case. Not enough that anyone poking around would note their absence — just enough that Odessa has a couple of changes without needing to spend a lot of cash, since Daphne isn't sure where she stands on that count. A pair of shoes, some underwear. And finally the file.

Next she heads to the safe, and the various vials and medicines from there get stuffed in her bag. She makes a quick sweep of the room, taking anything easily portable that might be useful to Francois, and then it's back across the water and to Odessa.

As she coalesces back into a discernible form, she hands the bag of clothes to Odessa. "Cat's gone. I think someone grabbed her. Do you want me to lie to Francois about you? Just say I thought to check out your stuff and grabbed what I could for him, or lie altogether about where I got it?"

Odessa is left standing stunned when Daphne takes off. She hadn't expected instant gratification from this meeting. She, for whatever reason, assumed Daphne would have to think about it, or formulate some kind of plan. Odessa always has been prone to over-thinking.

When Daphne returns, Odessa looks up from the watch on the red leather band on her wrist. "That was— Well, of course it was fast." She shakes her head and takes the bag handed out to her. "Yeah, I want you to lie about knowing I'm alive. If he asks you where you got the supplies… Well, use your discretion." She shrugs. "I trust you, Daphne. I… I hope you trust me, too. I have your back, same as I did in Germany. That's not going to change." So even if she doesn't trust that she's loyal to the Ferry, Odessa hopes Daphne will trust that she's loyal to her.

It was even fast enough that Odessa can probably assume Daphne didn't read the file at all. Perhaps Daphne trusts her as well, even if the doctor is a ghost and an outlaw and a traitor all in one. "Some changes of clothes," she nods to the bag, eyeing Odessa and peering at the eye patch a little curiously.

"You gotta place to stay?" The words tumble out probably before she thinks about them. Overthinking is not one of Daphne's traits, and her spontaneity is something that keeps biting her in the ass, but there she goes again, not thinking things through. "I got an apartment, if you need a place to stay."

"Thanks." The bag sways in Odessa's grip slightly. "I'd… Really like to stay with you, Daph'. But I shouldn't. It's safer for you that way right now." She reaches out to wrap her free arm around the other woman in a tight hug. "You are my best friend."

Daphne is startled by the hug and the exclamation of friendship. She realizes it means that she might be Odessa's only friend. Her own arms come up to give Odessa a squeeze.

"Let me know if you need anything, and I'll get it to you, okay? We can use a drop point or something if you don't feel safe meeting with me. Don't be afraid to ask. You have somewhere to stay, though? I don't wanna think about you out on the street or something, Dess," Daphne says. "You got money?"

Lingering only a moment, Odessa pulls back from the hug with a genuine smile. "Yeah, I have a place for now. And even then, I've managed homeless before." As a homeless junkie. Not really managing at all, honestly. "I'll come to you if that changes. I promise I won't go living on the streets again."

Odessa puts on her best innocent look, which really worked better before she lost an eye. Pirates - even fabulous glam rock pirates - don't generally look innocent. "Money? I haven't stolen any for a while, no. But that's never really a problem for me." Loose morality has its perks.

Daphne pulls a few twenties from her courier bag and hands them to Odessa. "It's all I got on me," she says apologetically. "Keep in touch," she adds, as she steps away. "And don't die. You're the nightingale, not the cat, remember? I donno how many lives you get," she adds, a playful finger jabbing at Odessa's sternum.

With that, Daphne pivots and is once more a streak of color, leaving Odessa alone with the abandoned trams.

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