Of Needles and Pricks


gillian2_icon.gif brian2_icon.gif

Scene Title Of Needles and Pricks
Synopsis Gillian and Brian meet to take blood samples, conversations of relationships and dickweeds arise.
Date June 26,2009

Cheap Hotel Room

Hotel room!

Sometimes it's good to get a hotel room for the night. Gillian's not exactly getting sick of living off of Phoenix and Ferry hospitality, but there are some thoughts racing through her head that bother her as she moves to put the chain over the hotel room door and make sure it's locked. The phone in her pocket feels increasingly heavy, not due to the reason she's meeting the man she just let into the room, but because of other messages passed through it not long ago.

Arthur. Gabriel Gray is being held or killed. Eileen.

In retrospect, at least she's not iron-woman today. Turning to face the man she'd let inside, who called and set up a meet, she gets right to the point, "Sounds like I'm going to need a full vial of blood— and according to the guy who's going to do it descretely for me, it'll take a few weeks."

"A few weeks?!" Winters asks angrily. "Are you kidding me? It takes a couple days on TV." He waves a frustrated hand. "That's bullshit I bet. It only takes a couple weeks because there's not enough incentive." The ex-Agent says, going to pull back his suit jacket to reveal the gun tucked into the holster there. "Put a little pressure on them, and I'm sure we could get the results back, that much faster." Winters assures her, looking over his shoulder at the door. He then goes to tuck his thumbs into his belt and takes a moment to examine her.

A soft sigh passes through his lips as he eyes her, the initial anger that surged through him vanishes as he watches her. "Are you okay?"

"That's exactly what I said," Gillian mutters, though she can't help but smile a little at the exact same wording she'd used. The smile does fade slowly, as she nods in agreement with the rest. Could need some pressure to push him to get it done faster— or it might really take that long. "We'll see. Might be able to pressure him into rushing it a bit. Not exactly a close friend, just someone I know won't betray us to the feds." The Ferry and Phoenix wouldn't trust the guy with everything they did otherwise.

"I'm— Still having a tough couple of weeks, but I'm hoping it'll be over soon." Somehow. "I was given a list of a bunch of people with medical training so we can get your blood taken. Mine too."

"We can get him alone. I'm good at applying pressure." Winters insists, watching her for a moment. Keeping his hands tucked into his belt he gives a little frown as she admits to having her tough couple of weeks. "Can't we just go to like a cheap little clinic, get a blood test and then just steal the vial?" He offers, but then glances at her again. Ugh. He remains silent for a moment, biting his bottom lip. "Do you.." It's a question even though he doesn't finish it at first. Glancing around the room as if looking for someone else he finally looks back to her.

"Do you need to talk about it? Or hug, or something?" He asks, though doesn't move to offer a hug physically.
"Do you need one?" Gillian asks instead, skipping over the rest of the conversation for the moment, in favor of asking that. It wasn't just the update from her phone she had to think about, but another thing in the newspaper. What little pieces she knew about the Company placed them in a place that just got demolished. "I know you're not working for those assholes anymore— which is good! — and you were on the run and everything. But…" It's easier to focus on what might be bothering someone else in this case. Her story would require a lot of background.

"Who told you all of this stuff? With me- and the Company killing our parents?"

"I'm a little worried. Honestly. My girlfri-My ex-partner. She works for them still.. But I think she's going to leave them. For me." He almost smiles at that. "But yeah.. I've.. I haven't heard from her yet. I left a message. Hopefully she'll meet me in a few hours. If not." He takes a swallow. Well, he's not going to think about that right now. Not at all. "What.. What's wrong with you?" It's easier to focus on what might be bothering someone else.

"His name is Roger Goodman. He works-worked for the Company. He wanted me to defect with him. I.. I didn't. I defected alone. Because of him, but not with him. I refuse to be anyone's pawn anymore." Winters states boldly, as if telling off Goodman this very moment.
And there's another reason to doubt what they've been told. Gillian looks visibly hesitant at the mention, even perhaps recognizing the name. It's interesting that he's changed the subject in the same way she might, so she tries to skip over answering why the Goodman thing might bother her- as well as the mention of not wanting to be a pawn, when she answers the real question.

"Recently had a… relationship end. Guess you could call him my ex-partner too, just not in any way that offical or anything. We'd been together since December- on and off. And there's… other stuff." Like the guy being missing and possibly dead.

"Boyfriend." Winters states back. "So I guess.. If I end up being your brother I should probably beat him up, right?" The man asks, looking around aimlessly before stepping over to the bed. He takes a seat on the end of it, looking up at Gillian. "I'm sorry. That sucks. I.." He gives a shrug, lacking anything to say to that. Eventually he moves his hand over and pats the edge of the bed beside him, beckoning her to come sit with him. "I wish there was something I could do.. or say. I just. I guess I'm not good at this."
"If he's even alive," Gillian mutters as she moves to join him on the bed, plopping down nearby to rub hands over her face. Not quite the tears present that there'd been before, but there's tension on her face as she settles down beside him. "Nothing anyone can do, really. Pretty sure the end stuff was mostly my fault— hell, I was even falling for another guy behind his back," she confesses with a shake of her head. Doesn't sound like something she's proud of, especially since… well… "A lot happened." That's the simplified version.

"Is it bad that I really want you to turn out to be my brother? Even if there's reasons to think it's suspect… I don't think my parents were lying when I confronted them. And I don't think I was even supposed to find out." It was by chance Cat caught a glimpse of the list.

"You like me that much?" He smirks, shaking his head a bit. "I don't know. Goodman had a lot of shit stories.. but he had documents. I don't know I was pretty pissed.. Looked official. But he said your name. My sister's name. My twin sister, who was supposedly dead, he said her name was Stephanie. Has your name ever been Stephanie?"

The former librarian just shakes her head at the idea of him being killed. It's not what she wants, even if he seems to keep tempting fate in that respect. A month can't go by when he doesn't get gravely injured, it seems. The threat to charge actually makes her laugh. The laugh doesn't last long, though. "Stephanie?" she repeats, even wrinkling her nose a bit. Well. If all of this is true even her name isn't her own. She'd been holding on to that hope. "I don't know if that was ever my name… I just kind of want to get something out of this. Last year I've lost just about everything I thought was real. But I guess the same's true for you too."

Seperated from himself, pushed into a Company that may have killed their parents, driven away by possible lies. Who knows what the truth is. "It's why I want to go the blood test route— It'll be hard to lie. We could probably even send off multiple tests. One of the people I talked to said I just needed a piece of hair. Maybe we could send blood through the one guy, and hair through her. Seperate labs."

"I like Gillian better. Your fakeparents made a good decision. My fakeparents didn't. Every single other Brian I've met in life is either a fat nerd or a total douche. Not many good Brian's out there. Maybe Brian McKnight, but I probably won't ever meet him. Unless he turns out to be evolved. Which, hell, isn't everyone?" A little shrug is given, his arm tightening around her shoulders for a moment. "I'm gonna sleep here tonight if that's cool. I think I've found a place to stay. And I might even have a contact if you need to reach me."

"Or we could just go on Maury. Or Dontell, or whatever his name is. Have one of those specials, that would work right?" He gives a shake of his head. "Anyway. You need my blood. Guess I should get on that. Can I.. You don't happen to have a vial on you, do you? And a syringe? If not I can just go ask the gentlemen outside in the alleyway if I can borrow theirs. I'm sure they would let me. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea."

The way her possible brother rambles on seems to at least be making Gillian smile again. Dimples even show up on her cheeks, before she moves to stand up, walking over to the nightable where she put the supplies she got from a safehouse. "Um— I got the vials and the thing you're supposed to stick into your skin. Inside the elbow— like when they take blood to make sure you don't got anything." There's all kinds of tests required for certain things. "But you can stay here— I only paid for a day, but it's got some cable and a good bed, at least— so you can use it. Just have to add on extra days. Room's under Leanne Lennox. One of the aliases I use." They take cash so like many possibly sketchy places, there's some anonymity.

"I hope your ex-partener is okay," she adds on, even if she knows he'd changed the subject for a reason. "It'd be good having a way to contact you, too. Just in case."

"We can do that. I have an ex-girlfriend that was a phlubot. Phlubotomist.. or whatever the word is for blood taker." Winters states going to stand up, taking a few steps towards her and the desk. Not that that makes him qualified at all to draw blood. He never actually reall watched her. "Supposed to wrap tape around your arm or something. We.. I could make a copy to do it on in case we fuck it up." The young man says softly, but then Gillian is talking about Veronica. "That makes her sound so unpersonal. I think I'm in love with her. I am in love with her." Winters states a tad more firmly. "Don't worry about extra days. I'll find a place."

"Yeah, I regenerate so we don't have to worry about fucking up on me— it won't hurt anymore when you reabsorb your clone?" Gillian has to ask, looking at the supplies quietly and wondering just how much it would hurt— not worse than the tattoos or the crap that's happened to her, she bets. But when she looks back at him— He thinks he loves the ex-partner, no, is in love with her. Hazel eyes settle on him for a long moment, before she says, "When you do see her again— make sure you tell her that. Even tough girls who pretend otherwise want to hear it from the guy." A few repeats of those words might have saved her relationship. Pulling out the stuff, she says, "All right— let's do this blood thing."

"It kinda does. But not really, no damage done." Winters claims, going over to the bed. Lifting up the covers he slides in, and soon there is a copy sitting next to him. Naked, but under the covers. The clothed Winters slides right back out of the bed. "Okay. I will. And she is.. tough girl. Pretends otherwise. But thanks for the advice I guess. We should be siblings, even if we're not." He says with a little smirk, putting his hands out for the vial and syringe.

It's not too difficult to figure out to stick the open vial onto the end of the needle thing and hand it over to the dressed one, avoiding eye contact. "I bet she's one of those dangerous girls— is she older? Cause I tend to like older men. I know it's different for guys than it is for girls, but, never know. I tend to like the tough older guys. Dark hair. Dark clothes. Brooding personality. That kinda thing." Gillian's smiling, even as she starts to roll up her sleeve. "I don't mind being fake-siblings if this all turns out to be an elaborate 'fuck with people' stunt." But it also sounds like she's really hoping it won't be.

"Yeah. She's like twenty seven. Beautiful. And you know.. all 'fuck off, I'll kick your ass' type." Brian says as he spins the syringe in his hand, before realizing that might not be a good idea. With a cut off chuckle at himself he makes his way over to the subject. Being himself, who has a grimace painted on his face. For effect, really. Taking his wrist and pulling it up, he aims carefully for a moment then stops.

"We had to pretend like we were married for our first case. So.. I don't know. I just got to the point that when we were home at the apartment, I was wishing we could keep pretending, you know?" Winters asks before going back to his subject. "Her name's Veronica. What's the dickweed's name?"


"Ffffuu-cckk." It comes from both bodies. "It's not supposed to hurt that much. Shit. I did it wrong." But then, the vial is filled up and the needle is pulled out. Reaching out the copy is quickly reabsorbed, leaving just a single blood stain on the sheets. "Okay. I think I know what I did wrong. I think I could do it right on you." He says with a little smirk as he looks over his shoulder at her.

"Gabriel," is the quiet response, though dickweed probably isn't the most flattering name. "It's funny cause at first he wasn't my type at all. Older- dark hair, fairly good looking. Only became my type later." Or he'd always been her type, the dangerous guy, just was pretending not to be. And then he's done, and it's time to get a needle, cause she knows what sharing needles does. Gillian pops open a little red container that she grabbed for the bag too and tosses the needle in there while he reabsorbs his poor guy. There were multiple caps, green and red, so she chooses the blue for him. Blue for Brian. "Well- I have thirteen tattoos, so if I can't handle a needle in an uncomfortable place for a few seconds…" Doesn't mean she expects not to flinch if he fucks it up. Switching in a new vial and needle, she hands it over, then holds out her arm.. "All right. Let's get this over with. Promise I won't punch you if you mess it up."

"I would probably punch you back. It could be our first sibling rivalry." He says in a remarkably cheery tone. Taking the new vial and needle, Winters takes her by the wrist. And takes more careful aim this time. "Thirteen?" He arches a brow before, "Are they skanky ones?" He asks in a disappointed tone without even knowing the answer yet. "Gabriel." He repeats, cocking his lips to the side. "I'm sorry it didn't work out, Gilli." And then..


It's better aimed this time. And less.. hurt-y. Drawing the blood into the vial he slowly pulls it out. "Sorry." He says, obligated to apologize even if it didn't hurt her. "So.. what's your middle name? Or the middle name they gave you, at least?"

"Some of them are," Gillian admits, covering up her wince. With her arm exposed, the right one, one of the not skanky ones is clearly visible. A rose with a tribal symbol around it. "Mae," she responds after a minute. "Never really use it." Forgets what it is except when she needs to include middle initial in things. She grimaces, even as she reaches to pick out the second cap and stuffs it onto the vial to seal it. Green for Gillian.

"What about yours?" The needle is tossed away into the container. "That didn't suck too bad. I can drop these off and get them checked— and try to put some pressure on it to happen faster than a couple weeks."

"Tell me where you drop them off. I can apply the pressure." Winters assures her, going to sit on the bed. "Andrew. I guess. Weird going by one last name and then find you have a different one.. And.. you know weird losing the memories of the last two years of your life or whatever." He waves a hand dismissively as if it wasn't that big of a deal. "GMW. And BAW." He says to himself. "I'm glad we got Winters at least. Cooler name than Fulk, definitely."

"My other last name is Childs. You can imagine the jokes I got," Gillian says, putting them into the bag. "The guy you'd be applying pressure to probably knows other Brian, so maybe not the best idea, and I'm not sure what lab he's using, just where I'm supposed to take it." Speaking of which, from the way she packs up the bag, it looks like she's getting ready to do that now. "Rattle off that contact number for me before I head out. I'll remember it."

"I uh.. don't know it yet. I'll get it to you soon." Brian says, standing up as she makes her way to go out. "Well.. I can wear a mask or something." He gives a shrug, stepping closer to her he expands his arms out to her. Taking a slow step forward to take her in a hug."Oh yeah. The hair." Reaching up, Winters plucks a small clump of hair and goes to give it to put in her little baggie. "Uh. Good to see you again. See you soon I guess. Love you?"

"Oh right," Gillian moves the bag to get out the little plastic bags to put that in. This isn't the most scientific thing, but— he distracted her with conversation and funny. … and did he just say love you? "That's a little weird." Just calling it like she sees it there. "But it was nice having someone to talk to… who isn't possessed and who I'm not in danger of falling for. I've seen the other you naked enough times the mystery is just gone," she adds, even giving a little bit of a sibling-like tease before she closes up the bag and goes to unlock the door. "Call me when you get the number, and I'll see you later."

"Fuck me, I thought its what we were supposed to say. You're a terrible sister." Brian grumbles as he gives a little wave as she goes. He smirks a little bit as she steps out, grabbing the door he goes to close it behind her. "That was rude, by the way. I'm never calling you." Winters says as he shuts the door. "See you later!" He calls out louder through the door, locking it he goes to walk back to the bed. It's kind of nice to have someone to talk to that isn't Veronica… or.. Well, he doesn't really have anyone else.

Even if the words could hurt if said meanly, it's the smirk that keeps her from taking them too hard. Gillian steps out the door as it's closed behind her, hearing the louder 'See you later!' and ending it with, "I love you too, you idiot." It's just loud enough to be heard through the door if he's listening, before she moves to get away from the hotel room. At least it got her mind off of not talking to someone when she probably should have.

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