Mama Always Says You Can't Go Wrong With Jack


len_icon.gif tracy_icon.gif

Scene Title Mama Always Says You Can't Go Wrong With Jack
Synopsis With the Company down for the count, Len has to tell Tracy she's on her own as far as Mortimer Jack goes.
Date June 28, 2009

The One and Only Super Karaoke Bar

He's at the bar. A karaoke bar. That's just horrible, when you're the kind of girl that prefers lounges and $15 martinis. But, Agent Denton will always hold a dear place in Tracy's heart - the place of someone that had the potential to be useful once, and may yet again prove himself to be useful to her. So she goes, knowing full-well the man can't read minds, and knowing full-well that he has no way of knowing who it was that sent the DHS to the Primatech explosion. As long as he doesn't know that, everything will be okay.

From the moment she steps into the place she looks out of place. Her nice high-necked dress and pearls are in sharp contrast to the blue-jeans and rolled up sleeves of a karaoke bar. Sure, some people are here after work. But even after work, Tracy's not one to 'loosen her tie', as it were. She pauses, inside the door, scanning the room with her icy blue eyes. So much has changed in these few days.

And thus is the man who has had a pretty interesting week. You can say interesting, truly because how many times does the place where anyone works get blown to smithereens while you run for you life. It does get the blood pumping. That being said, Len Denton is sipping on a mug of beer, leaning back against the bar on his stool and watching gawd awful singing from every possible type of person ever, collected in this one place. He has heard farm animals make better melody than he's hearing right here.

Of course, Tracy's entrance catches a few eyes who turn to look at her, definitely out of place here, and Len happens to notice the attention drawn away from the stage as he turns and motions her over. "Getcha something to drink?" he offers the chilly woman.

"Dry martini," she requests, moving to settle in beside Len once she's caught sight of him. Setting her bag on the bar she tries to get the stool to swivle a bit higher, but she's not a woman to spin in her seat. It's simply not her. So she stands, manually spinning the seat until it's tall enough for her to sit with proper poise at the bar. "Did I miss your performance up there?" She asks, gesturing with her head toward the stage.

By the number of little numbered tabs behind him, it seems that Tracy has missed several Len-flavored performances, including a nicely hillbillied version of 'All Right Now'. "Nah." he lies. Or teases. One can never really tell with him. He turns to the bartender, orders her drink for her.

He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a few photos, obviously from surveillance. And look right there, her little poster boy Mortimer Jack. "Seems we got ourselves into a scuffle with your boyfriend. Apparently he had some sort of beef with us and decided to take matters into his own hands. Dunno why he wouldn't want to sit down and just chat. I'm quite the chatter. Really." There's six photographs in total. Only a couple of him, the rest are some of his stooges. "Pity that we couldn't get everyone out in time."

Tracy feels a pang inside her, knowing that…feeling that she should have done more to stop it. But that was supposed to be Matt Parkman's problem. Not hers. And then? Well…."So I've heard. I'm sorry, Agent Denton." She sets the photographs aside, nodding as her martini is brought and taking a deep sip. "I truley am." She looks into his eyes, and bares herself, as much as she is able, to him. She truley is sorry.

He gives a sideways glance to her. Perhaps she is sorry. Not as sorry as she may be. "We're out of commision for a while. If he's a problem, he's going to be your problem now. Thought it'd be the right thing to warn you. If he's still got a hard-on for you, you're probably not done with him." Of course, whatever it was she had an issue with as far as Mortimer Jack goes, Len wasn't privvy. In his mind, if he was a threat to her before, he's still a threat to her now.

Tracy shakes her head, taking another deep sip of her martini. She's halfway through it by now. "As I'm well-aware. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but do you have a way to deal with him anytime soon? I think I can manage him for now, but I believe you're right when you say he won't go away." Actually she already knows that to be fact.

With a shake of his head, Len responds in the negative. "None. We have no facility to work out of and we are at a minimum of 30 days from being mission capable. All my agents are getting some well deserved down-time. Everything we were working on has been handed over directly to Homeland Security." Well, not everything, but most. "I'm afraid you may have to hire someone to deal with Mortimer Jack, Ms. Strauss." Not to seem insensitive, of course.

Tracy nods, finishing her martini in a third swallow, pushing the glass away. "I understand. As I've said, Agent Denton, I truly am sorry about what happened." She glances up at the karaoke stage when some poor drunk fool starts screaching his lungs out. "Magnes Varlane, was he able to get out alright? God only knows what the boy would do if he saw the opportunity to be a hero."

"Varlane was not in the facility went this incident occured. He's safe and sound." One of the good things that happened, of course. Though there's no way to know for certain what type of assistance Varlane could have given with his ability. It could have changed the outcome entirely. But, it's done with now and there's no sense in trying to speculate about it. Len is going to have to up the training of the young man. He's too valuable to be sitting on the bench. "I'll pass on your condolences to the the families of those who lost someone. I'm sure they'll appreciate it." There's no sarcasm from the cowboy, as he means what he says.

Tracy nods. "I appreciate it. Can I buy you a drink?" It's the nicest offer she can make. "A shot, maybe?" No doubt the man's having a hellish few days and Tracy … her last few days aren't going too well either. "Seems like the time in a person's life when a few shots can do nothing but good."

Swiveling the stool around so he can face her, Len dips his head, as well as his hat as he nods. "I would never decline a shot. Something in the cowboy's code." He lets a grin slip through his demeanor. It could be the previous amount of alcoholic consumption he's already incurred, or it could be genuine. "What's your poision?" he arches an eyebrow in her direction.

Tracy thinks a moment. "I really couldn't tell you. I haven't done shots since college - I'm more of the type to sip my straight liquor." Or freeze it and watch it shatter, if you're already drunk and trying to wrap your head around a new power. "Any suggestions?"

Len considers for a moment and before he offers his solution to the question at hand. "Seriously, if you find yourself in over your head with Jack, you let me know. I'll see what strings I can pull. Which, admittedly, isn't much at the moment. However, doesn't mean I am empty handed, alright?" he then eyes the bartender, then Tracy and grins. "As far as what to drink, mama always says that you can never go wrong with Jack."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License