My Moral Compass


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Scene Title My Moral Compass
Synopsis When Abby has a need to pick someones brain and get a better grip on her moral compass, she gets a hold of Ben. Early morning sunday and combing through the Canal Street Market, the healer and the EMT discuss FRONTLINE and a few other things.
Date May 17, 2009

Canal Street Market

Day or night, Canal Street is busy in Chinatown. Perfumes, purses, produce, pork, and poultry are all sold side by side in busy open storefronts. One entire portion of the street is dedicated to nothing but jewelry stores catering to various price ranges. Box vendors sell all manner of sizzling foodstuffs to passing pedestrians, some of it identifiable, some of it better left unexplained. The ambiance is one of business and pleasure.

No early service for Abigail, she's not about to show up in the state she is at 8 am to church. So, since she's got hours to spare, the red head called up Ben, checking to see if he was working or not. A meet at the Canal Street Market was in order as she needed some vegetables and flowers and needed some fresh air. Fletcher seems to be the moral compass, or at least the check to her moral compass. A fresh viewpoint when she's got something brewing in the mind of hers. So she's waiting, with her empty cloth bags, Messenger bag over her shoulder and a sweater, fake blue ugg's on her feet, for her EMT friend to show up.

Ben has a bit of time off. This is unusual, and really, he was going to visit the library and maybe pick up a couple of books. And he can still do that, sure, but now he's meeting Abby. Clad in his everyday clothes, he saunters into the market and tosses a wave when he sees her, heading her way. "Hey, Abigail. What's up?"

"Hey Ben" Flashing him a smile. "Grocery shopping. Could use the comapny. Need to pick your brain too. Wanna walk? I need vegetables, see if they have some cat treats, there's usually a stall here somewhere with them" There's an offer of one of the grocery bags to him.

Ben dutifully takes the bag, nodding. "I should maybe get something green into my fridge," he says, a little sheepishly. "They have cat stuff out here? I had no idea." He turns about to situate himself, covers a yawn with the back of his hand, and trails alongside her. "Something bothering you?"

"There's a booth that makes home made animal treats and food and such. I like to pick up some when I have the spare money" But yes, something is. "I was asked, to endorse FRONTLINE. Do you know what that is?" She squints over at him in the sunlight from the firey orb that's started it's ascent into the sky. It prompts the redhead to whip out a pair of sunglasses and slip them on.

Ben scratches behind his ear. "Well, how do you feel about SCOUT? This seems like a bigger version of it." He's just stuck squinting, not having brought sunglasses. But hey, corn! He thoughtfully picks up an ear, turning it around. "Does this look too green to you?"

"I heal SCOUT. They make me take a cheque each time I heal them. I just give it to my church instead of keeping it. But.. I mean, SCOUT does what it's supposed to do. They deal with evolved criminals or situations involving the evolved. I think they do a very fine job" Abigail answers her friend, looking at the corn. She plucks it from his hand, holding it up

"The leaves will always be green silly. You have to look at the silks at the top" A free hand points to the threads at the top of the corn cob. "See, needs to be dry and brown. It's only a little. And it's pretty skinny. Wait another month, then you'll get some good corn in" Abigail educates. "But what do you think? I mean… They're asking me to do a TV spot. For them, to endorse them and give my support. I don't.. really know about them. Another person I know gave her two cents which amounted to don't do it, don't touch them with a ten foot pole, but do go into the spotlight and be a shining beacon for all evolved"

"Huh." Ben takes the ear from her, setting it back on the pile. No corn, then. "Well, I don't think you should do it if you don't know enough about them. Blindly endorsing something is generally a bad idea. Potato chips, Evolved military, my cousin Tom. You don't know Tom. I can tell you he's a nice guy, but you wouldn't want to go around telling everyone he was awesome."

"Hence i'm asking. I have a package of stuff they sent me. Information about them. I'm gonna go visit a Detective that I know, pick his brain. Read up on it. It just.. it came out of the blue, and… " She looks over at him. "It means that if I do it, I'm gonna be back out in the public again instead of my quiet little life which.. you know, of late, hasn't really been that quiet" She gestures over to another stall that has corn. Corn with dry ears.

Ben heads over that way to root through the pile, though he steps aside for an older woman who's looking a little wobbly without really thinking. "Alright. So how 'bout this: people clearly want your endorsement. People feel your opinion matters and will coerce others, right? You have to be careful with that kind of thing." He picks up another ear of corn, feels the top, sniffs it a few times. "It's your decision. If people will listen to you, though, you should probably make sure you really believe in what's coming out of your mouth."

"I believe… that if there had been a FRONTLINE while I was still on Staten Island, Ben, that I wouldn't have been there as long, and that John Logan would be behind bars where he belongs choking down whatever it is that they use to suppress abilities. That that healers they took before me, wouldn't… " Be somewhere probably buried underground or likely fish food.

Ben glances sidelong at her, blinks thoughtfully, then nods. "Sounds like you want to do it, then. Read what they gave you. Go ask questions and get them to show you what they're doing so you're really sure."

"Do you think if I asked to meet some of the potential FRONTLINE members, they'd let me meet them. To.. see exactly who'd be partaking in this. Because so far apparently, they'd have people active with the bill passing, near immediately, it means then that they have volunteers" Abigail points out. Grab me two cobs of corn? Alexander's back I think, and I wanna stock up on foods for him too"

Ben nods, poking at tufts on corn and selecting another bunch worth. "I think they should let you. Otherwise I'd be a little suspicious, I suppose."

"SO. Ask to meet some of the potential FRONTLINE people. That's like.. test driving the car right, before you buy it. Cause.. I mean.. this is me putting my support behind it. Can you think of anything else?" Abigail takes the corn from him, paying for all the corn, his and hers before stuffing it into her bag. "Did I tell you she's from the President's office? Ben, I have nothing good enough to meet the president in"

"If.. I end up meeting him. Doubt it. Lordy I don't even have anything good enough for TV"

"Right. You're testing things out," Ben tells her. "Oh, bananas. I could use some bananas. "…Ask to meet them, ask to see training facilities, uh… that's probably about it. You might meet the President? Really? Maybe stop buying my corn and save for some dress pants or something." He shoots her a rueful look.

"I don't know whether I will or not. I have a lot to think about I guess. Because if I do this, this means.. my want of a quiet life is pretty much shot. No more nameless healer, working in a bar while studying to be an EMT huh. I can't just… toss things to the side and run off to heal when people call and i'll buy your corn if I want to. a couple bucks won't kill me. But then, Dr. Bianco got me a publicist after the whole central park thing. So I guess that's probably, maybe gonna come in handy. I'm meeting her tomorrow evening."

"I have a job, I can pay for my own corn," Ben tells her, not really irritably. "What if you meet the president and your socks have holes in them? I hear they can sense that kind of thing."

"I have no holes in my sock Benjamin Fletcher!" The red head retorts, though she smiles. "I suppose I can find something decent to wear. Or I can just wear my Sunday best, and just be me." The Abigail Beauchamp that everyone knows who doesn't really care too much about what she's wearing just so long as she's decent.

"Sunday best will probably do," Ben says, helping himself to a bunch o' bananas. They are very good for you! "What does FRONTLINE stand for, anyway? I always see it in capital letters. Sounds like a backronym."

"First response, something or other. I haven't had time to read the package yet, was too busy being toaded by a friend who was hurt" Toaded. "Hey, so.. I was on Staten island for a whole two seconds, on Friday evening"

"Wait, toaded?" Ben demands, but then she comes out with something more concerning. More concerning than toading, oddly enough. "What were you doing on Staten?" Disapproving frown and furrowed brow.

"Healing some ATF Officer. The detective didn't tell me, and then, I got to the pier and they were having me get on a boat. I swear Ben, I just about died. took two pills to get me on the boat" Abigail shakes her head. "Guy is healed, I don't think he knows who I am and I don't rightly care. There was another guy that they had me stabalize, I've met him before. But… I yelled at the Detective. I feel so bad Ben, he musta been forgetting stuff, and he apologized and I was just //yelling at him. I was so scared and angry and just… panicked that Logan would find out I was there or that the boat would get attacked and I'd be back in the basement"

Ben pauses in the midst of picking peppers, lips pursing into a frown. "And you went there anyway," he says after a moment.

"Apparently he would have died if I hadn't. He would have. The detective had him brought onto the boat so that I wouldn't have to get onto the island proper" Abigail frowns, picking up a tomato and smelling it, giving it a gentle squeeze and satisfied, pays for it.

Ben sighs faintly. "But he didn't die, and you didn't die, and that's something good, at least. And hopefully that detective will be a little more thoughtful the next time. They should bring them to the boat if they can so you don't have to go there." He turns back to the peppers, the green ones, though his motions are absent. "Or they should find someone who teleports people."

"I don't think they'll be needing me to go there again. Seems it's some one off thing. I don't know much. I don't think the injured ATF guy was very well liked" Abby reaches over, giving ben's ear a gentle pinch. Elusive human contact from the healer. "Your sighing again"

Ben raises a shoulder defensively and swats at her hand. "I did? It was just at you getting called there, and how it's probably going to happen again. Because it probably will. People get hurt on Staten all the time, well-liked or not."

"Cops don't get hurt on Staten island, and I only get called in if it's really bad. Watch. I'll get called in to heal like FRONTLINE or something." Abigail shakes her head, taking back her hand. "Come on, I wanna find the cat treats then I gotta head towards church. Too much to do today, I gots me a blind man to give sight back to!"

"…Cops get hurt on Staten Island," Ben says, eyeing her. He pays for his peppers and other assorted foodstuffs, nodding. "Alright, to the cat treat section. Someone suggested I get a cat the other week…"

"You should. Probably not a kitten, they take so much time, need so much time. I can see you with a cat from the pound who's grumpy and ornery and only wants to sit on the top of the armchair above you while you watch TV"

"I'd worry I wouldn't be there often enough for it to be happy," Ben confesses, reaching up to rub his stubbly chin.

"So you get two of them" Abby points out. "A fixed male and female. That way when your not home, they have each other. You can get them a tree house too. It's a pretty penny, but, you can" Abby smiles to Ben as they come across the table she was looking for, a small bag of treats bought and paid for. Her shopping is complete.

"Why would cats need a tree house anyway? They just make the world around them their tree house," Ben grumbles.

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