Intertwining Threads


elisabeth2_icon.gif monica_icon.gif

Scene Title Intertwining Threads
Synopsis It's always fun when parallel courses bring you to the same place.
Date July 24, 2010

Redbird Security Solutions

Or it will be eventually.

Cleaning up the building is definitely one of those tasks that needs doing, requires a lot of hands, et cetera. Elisabeth has a bit of time and she was up early this morning from a not-restful sleep. So with no one in the new building during the wee hours of the morning, she drove her car, packed to the gills with boxes full of food, over to the Financial District and parked it right in front of what is soon to be the Redbird Security Solutions building. She unloaded all of the edible fare, stacked the boxes up on a table in there, and for several hours she has been hard at work on the interior wiping down and spackling walls in preparation for painting them. She wears a pair of old denim shorts, a battered NYPD T-shirt, and her blond hair is pulled up in a ponytail to get it out of the way.

The odor of fresh coffee hits the new arrival first thing. A radio is playing loudly enough for the music to be heard near the front door but not so loud that it blasts out the people inside the room where it's playing, and Elisabeth is singing along with Tears for Fears.

All for freedom and for pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever,
Everybody wants to rule the world.

Ain't it the truth, baby?

It's been something of a long night for Monica Dawson, and it shows. Bags under her eyes mark the fact that she hasn't slept just yet, and the hints of twitchiness in her movements gives away an underlying nervousness. And she slips in the back door instead of the front. Going straight for the coffee first, there's a muttered hello in passing before she grabs a cup for herself.

Though she might seem oblivious to her surroundings with the music going, Elisabeth is not. The sound of the subtle click of the back door has the ex-cop setting down the mop she's using to wash down the walls in one of the offices, her hand slipping to the back waistband of her shorts where her personal weapon resides. That hand doesn't move until Monica passes the office door and Liz identifies her. Then the blonde heads over to turn off the radio and carry her own coffee out to the small kitchen where all the food is stacked up and the caffeine fix is living. Leaning a shoulder on the doorjamb, she studies the girl thoughtfully, the lines in her face speaking of a bit of weariness herself. "You okay?" she asks mildly. Because like it or not, Monica's one of hers now — which means Liz will occasionally take it upon herself to badger people a little and make sure they're holding up.

Monica glances over Liz's way, a hint of a frown on her face, "I… don't quite know just yet. But it looks like there's some DHS agent on my case over the whole Hamilton Heights thing." Despite an even tone, the girl is still on edge over it. "I might have to go off the grid for a while. She knows I'm evolved now. She basically gave me the choice of admitting I was or denying it and getting tested."

Oh, not just no but hell no. "Really?" Elisabeth drawls, blue eyes going ice cold. "How does she know you're Evolved? And how'd you hit her radar other than being a resident?" She shoves off the door frame and walks to the counter, setting her cup on it.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Monica makes a bit of a grimace at those questions, "Cat was supposed to be tapped a contact of hers to see if I'd been flagged. And I guess I had, to be found and questioned about the incident. So we went. And she, the agent that is, assured me that I wasn't a suspect… unless, of course, I had some ability that would make me one and if I could just assure her that I didn't, or that my ability was unrelated, she could just tell everyone she was sure I didn't have anything to do with it. And she had a test with her, just in case. So I took off, which probably wasn't the smartest thing I ever did, but I was in the moment."

Cat led Monica to a DHS agent? Willingly? That brings confusion to Elisabeth's face and she asks, "Sawyer?" It's not really a question, but now that she's got half a clue, the blonde shakes her head and sighs. "All right… first off, you're okay for now. Cat ….." She shakes her head. "She seems to think she's got the finesse and contacts for this kind of shit, but I swear to God, she's turning into a fucking Vulcan. It's like she's losing the ability to actually function in the real world anymore." There's some amount of resignation and perhaps just a hint of disgust to her tone.

"I can make contact with Sawyer and reassure her as to your personal situation. She was … is … a friend of mine." Liz pauses. "Unfortunately, the Registration thing? I'm not sure how we're going to get around it. Since all citizens are about to be required to Register as either Evo or non."

The flash of recognition at the name is probably enough confirmation, but Monica also nods… and then looks a little relieved. But only a little. "I think she just… doesn't want to feel everything, all the time. Her ability? It's got one hell of a downside, those memories being crisp and clear as the day they happened." Shakes her head some, though, on the topic of registration. "I don't know, either, but there's got to be a way. Or maybe I can lie about what I can do. Or… something. I don't know yet. She was talking about that, too, Sawyer. I just… don't think it's right, putting us all on a list while there are people out there looking to kidnap and experiment on us. I don't trust it."

"Yeah, I know," Elisabeth replies. "I'm reasonably sure that the Ferry's already working on getting their hands on the intel they'll need to forge documents for people, but …." She shakes her head. "Nobody trusts it. Christ, I don't like being Registered either, and I only did it because I needed to go back on the force." She glances around the kitchen and smiles faintly, not really in amusement but in a kind of sadness. "Richard ever tell you how he wound up Registered?" she asks Monica absently. "I arrested his ass."

"I do have this cousin…" Monica remarks, "That is good at that kinda thing." It's like it just occurred to her, but she seems thoughtful on the subject. "You arrested him?" That seems to pull Monica out of her moping so she can smile over at the other woman. "Oh, that must have been something to see."

It does bring up some level of amusement now, truth be told. "It was…. entertaining, I suppose. Though I hated that I got him on the Registry — I didn't know my partner was going to test him." Elisabeth grimaces. "Royally pissed me off." She shrugs slightly. "He seems to have forgiven me, I guess," she adds, tongue firmly in cheek as she refills her own coffee cup. Their relationship is by no means a secret. "If you have a cousin good at forgery, I'd love to get them on the payroll. Ostensibly, of course, to be someone who puts forgers behind bars."

"Seems to have," Monica says with a chuckle. She runs a hand through her hair, though, shaking off some of her nervousness. "I don't know if payroll is really an option, he seems to be… doing his own thing. You guys know about Rebel," this isn't really a question, either, although she does watch Liz for a reaction.

Ah… Monica wasn't referring to another cousin. Liz sips from her cup and says quietly, "Yes… I know about Rebel." She knows far more than she'd like sometimes. "I was the one who got to tell Niki that Micah was alive only to have her get to the hospital bare hours too late to see him." There is deep emotion suppressed beneath the low tone — guilt. Rage. Hurt for her friend. Whatever else is going on, Elisabeth clearly cares quite strongly about Niki. And she's one of the few with a decent relationship with Jess too, though it was rocky to start with.

"Man. I feel like such a jerk, not being around for all that. I had no idea what happened with all that until- Actually, I was talking to him just before the whole incident with the apartment." Monica puts her hand on her hip, letting out a sigh for herself. "I still have to talk to Niki." There's a hint on her face, just a hint, of being torn over that for whatever reason.

"Yeah, well….. Niki's not been in the best headspace lately. She seems to have voluntarily ceded control to Jessica and is staying in the background. So if you see her and she's not quite who you remember…" Elisabeth shrugs a little. "I know you'll go easy on her." There's a sigh. "By the way — help yourself to anything you find in here." The blonde grimaces. "I bake when I'm …. stressed." Distressed. Whatever.

"Who can blame her, huh? She's always had it rougher than most," Monica says, sympathy and definite care for the woman in her tone. It might just be by marriage, but clearly, family is family here. "I won't give her a hard time, don't worry. I just hope Jessica likes me as much as Niki does." Glancing around at the mention of food, the mimic's stomach growls in response and she gives Liz a sort of sheepish look. "I haven't had a thing since the meeting yesterday, so thanks, I think I will take you up on that."

Elisabeth snorts. "Jessica doesn't like anyone," she informs Monica. "She barely tolerates most people. I think the only ones Jessica ever might have truly cared about were Micah and DL." She shrugs a bit. "I did some reading after I got to know Niki — Jessica's what they call the 'gatekeeper' personality. She exists to protect Niki herself at all costs. But you're family. That may matter for Jess."

The topic shifts and Liz says, "By all means. Eat it. As much as you want. Richard complains I'm going to make him fat. All I did was bake this time. Usually I come in with casseroles and soups too, but it's just too damn hot."

"Ah… About that… Can I get some advice, in confidence? As someone who knows Jessica better than I do…" Monica reaches for a muffin, fiddling with it a moment or two before she actually takes a bite.

"Sure," Elisabeth replies quietly, moving to prop her hip against the counter as she watches. "Shoot."

"D.L.'s alive. I… saw him in New Orleans just before I left for here. He's alive and he's in some kinda… He's gotten himself into something bad. Micah didn't know if Niki knows that or not and didn't know… if it would be a good thing to tell her. But I dunno, I feel bad not telling her. What do you think?" Monica leans a hip against the wall, fingers tapping against that muffin.

Liz goes slack-jawed with shock. "What?" she demands in a low voice, accompanied by a rumble so far down the bass spectrum it's felt and not heard. Thoughts whirl through her head as she sets the coffee cup down, the surface of the liquid within it giving away the sound waves rolling off Elisabeth though she's doing her level best to tamp the reaction down. The first question she demands an answer to is, "Does he know that she survived?"

"I don't know. I don't know, we didn't… have time to talk about much. He just…" Monica closes her eyes there, shaking her head a little. "I'm not sure how to find him, but Micah says they keep an eye on him. And I know… who he's working with. Or for…" And that seems to be a point of great distress for Monica.

The idea that D.L. may in fact not know that Niki somehow survived seems to calm Elisabeth — after all, Niki had no clue that Micah survived either. She moves to pick up her cup and sips from it, not speaking for a long time. And when she turns to look at Monica, she asks calmly and with every evidence of intent, "Do we need to get him out?"

"I don't know. I don't know what he's doing in there. But… I think we need to let him know we can get him out. If… we can. Can we?" Someone is not used to working with groups anymore. Groups with resources. "His name's d'Sarthe. Gideon d'Sarthe," she says, teeth coming to bite her bottom lip. Clearly, this name makes Monica a little nervous.

Elisabeth raises a brow. "Interesting." She pauses to consider that thought, and then nods. "Yes. We can get him out — the impossible just takes a little longer sometimes," she says with a small smile that is not altogether pleasant. The blonde has changed a good bit from the cop who first came on board with Phoenix. There is a coldness, an edge to those blue eyes that speaks to the horrors she's lived and done in the past couple of years and yet she still manages to retain optimism. Somehow, against all odds. Cardinal scoffs at her for it regularly. "Let me think through the matter some and do some research, okay? I need you to tell me whatever you know about what he's doing these days and where he's operating," D.L. she means, "and I'll start working out some things. Don't tell Niki, though," she advises. "Not yet. Let me see if we can sort out what the man knows and doesn't first — cuz if he knows she's alive and hasn't come to her? Jessica's just as likely to put a bullet in him as let Niki hug him."

"Yeah, that's what I was… worried about. Okay. It's a start anyway." Monica sighs some, pausing to take a bite as she thinks over things. "Honestly? I don't know much about D.L.'s situation. He was with d'Sarthe's set up in New Orleans and… well, is high enough on the food chain that his word is trusted. I don't know if he sticks to the city or not. Probably not, if d'Sarthe knows what he can do. You know?"

"Yeah…. I know." She scratches her head and says, "Yeah…. lemme run it past Cardinal and do some digging on d'Sarthe. Niki thought D.L. and Micah both died in the blast. It tore her apart, Monica. I wondered when we found out that Micah survived whether D.L. could have as well, but … I figure even if I'd gone looking, it's unlikely that I'd have located him, you know? And finding Micah — in Linderman's hands all this time — honestly just basically shattered her. Plus I was… sort of caught up in more global events rather than personal ones." She shakes her head. "Niki's my friend. And Jess, God help me, is… someone I…. respect. So just keep a lid on all of this and let me sort through what intel we can get our hands on. I don't like this. And it's entirely possible D.L. doesn't have a clue either of them survived either. Which is going to come as a huge shock to him too. Especially Micah's situation."

Monica nods, understanding, apparently. "I won't mention. Not until we know the full extent of the situation. And Liz? Whatever he's in, he's still… he's still good. I don't know if D.L. was supposed to come make sure they finished us off, or what, but he put himself in danger and made sure we got out and away. I don't know what he told d'Sarthe about that day, but… he's still good."

Elisabeth's expression eases and she offers Monica a small smile. "Come hell or high water, Monica… we'll get him out if he wants out. It may just have to be done carefully, that's all." She shrugs a little, like it's no big deal. Maybe when you've had your head blown off and you've watched the man you love literally eat a nuke and belch out a mushroom cloud of shadows, saving one guy from a Mob guy isn't such a big deal.

"Thanks, Liz. I just… he's family." And for Monica? That's more than just a name on a Christmas card list. "I did warn him I wasn't done with d'Sarthe before I left, too," she says, her arms folding some, "Even if I was in over my head, as it turned out. But still. Hopefully he'll be working on getting out himself."

"Well," Elisabeth says with a grin. "I guess that means we better get to work getting this place habitable, hmm? Cuz he'll need a place to hole up." She shoves her hip off the counter and heads back toward the office she was prepping to paint. "Do you know if Peyton's arranged for carpeting yet?"

"You know, I have no idea, but she seemed pretty excited about all the shopping, so I wouldn't be surprised." Monica's arms unfold then, mostly so she can get another bite of her late breakfast.

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