Participants:
| Scene Title | Speed Limits |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A head on collision is not the way Daphne and Silver should have been introduced. |
| Date | June 6, 2010 |
One would think that on a Sunday morning, that lawyers, judges and the like would be still snuggled up in bed with thoughts of fluffy things to keep them happy. However, on this day, in order to help justice move along and catch up from the frozen jail that kept them all hostage. Instructed to get with the DAs and see what can be plead and what cannot in order to keep the court from getting too backed up.
James Silver is one of those attorneys. He probably would be here even if it weren't absolutely necessary, being more of a workaholic than not. He wakes up thinking of cases, and falls asleep giving his closings. Pulling into the parking spot, looking behind him for traffic before he opens his door and then turns to reach for his briefcase.
Zooming from the west side of the parking lot, a blur of cream and red and gray zig zags through parking lot. The lot makes for a short cut from where Daphne Millbrook just used her five-finger discount to pick up a Ming dynasty vase from an auction house nearby to the home of her "client." The entire job, from client to auction house to client might just set a new record if she makes it in the next thirty seconds — a seven-minute job from start to finish…
As she curves around the back of the car Silver sits in, coming around the side, the door opens directly into her path. There is no time to react.
Smack.
She rebounds off the metal and glass to sprawl on her back on the cold concrete, wet and icy from the thaw. On top of the courier bag the vase was nestled in. Her eyes are closed, and it's clear she will have a goose-egg on her forehead where the brunt of the force of the car window's metal frame hit her brow.
All within just a matter of moments, Silver is reaching for his briefcase when there's a loud smash. His car lurches forward and at first he thinks someone has rearended him and he looks up and to the back, but sees nothing. "What the f-.." he starts then turns around to the door and notices it crunched forward, bench to such a degree that it'll have to be replaced. He hurries out of the car to inspect the damage and looks up the street to see if he sees who sideswiped him and he nearly steps on the fallen damsel lying on the ground at the side of his car.
The car forgotten for the moment, he hurries to kneel down by her and places two fingers at the side of her neck. "What the hell did you just do?" he speaks to really no one in particular since she's completely out of it, now that he's determined she's not dead. He doesn't want to move her, in case her neck is injured, so he does the only thing he knows. He stands up and reaches into his car to dial 9-1-1.
Dark lashes flutter on pale cheeks, and finally her eyes open. "Don't call! No paramedics! Please!" she yelps from the ground, before wincing and bringing a hand to her forehead, and then around to the back of her head. Two lumps, though there was no cartoon rabbit to hit her over the head with a giant hammer while having tea.
Having discovered she's not bleeding or dying, though she is likely concussed, Daphne begins to try to get her feet beneath her, but her shoes slide on the icy pavement and she looks more like Bambi trying to ice-skate than anything, landing once more on her butt in exasperation.
The cold ground adds to her exasperation. "Next time watch where you're going before you open a car door!" she snaps at him, though she knows it wasn't his fault Even if he had looked, the path was clear before she sped her way into it.
The lawyer's eyes narrow just a tad as he disconnects the call before it actually goes through. "Actually, I did look to see if there were traffic coming. I didn't expect my car to be assaulted by a speeding blonde." He frown as he tries to pull the door shut for a moment, then gives up, turning around just in time to see her falling on her ass. This is less rabbit now and more stooges.
"I'm almost entirely certain that speed limits aren't restricted to vehicles." He can finally take no more and reaches out a gloved hand to help her up. "Are you sure you don't need any medical help?"
The clinking sound in her courier bag alerts her to the fact that her Ming vase is now in pieces and she closes her eyes in a moment of silence for the lost piece of art — or more to keep herself from swearing at the innocent driver who inadvertently cost her the grand she'd have gotten from the job. And her new world record, to boot!
"No. I don't do hospitals," Daphne says with a shake of her head, before wincing as that mistake sends sharp sparks of pain throughout her skull. She takes a step away, glancing at the building and then at him. Can she speed away without falling on her ass? "You a cop?" she says, jutting her chin in his direction.
Shaking his head, Silver chuckles. "Nope. Worse."
"Lawyer."
"James Silver." He reaches into his pocket. Well, not that pocket. Not that one either. He knows.. there. He plucks out a card from his third choice of pocket and offers it over to her. "Take this in case something develops." He reaches back into his car for his briefcase. He'll have to call a truck to come get the car and have it fixed. "You sound like you broke something, other than your ass, of course." He doesn't seem to be smiling as he says that either.
Lawyer. Her brows twitch as she looks at the card, then shakes her head, handing it back as if it were made of fire and is burning her fingers. "I'm not going to try to sue you. Do you think I'm nuts? You're a lawyer. I'm Evolved. I know that no judge or jury or insurance-whatever-they-call-them is going to blame you. Not in the current climate we live in, and I don't mean the freaking snow." If he doesn't take the card, she lets it drop to the ground, to prove she has no intent of trying to sue him. If he expects reciprocation on identities? Well, he's out of luck. She takes another step backward.
"Wait."
He fingers the card in his hand that was handed back to him. "I'm a defense lawyer mostly. The majority of my clients are evolved. It's kind of a specialty of mine. Take the card." James holds it out to her again. "You don't have to tell me your name. But if you find yourself in a bind, you have someone you can call." He wiggles the card as he holds it out. "Just take the card. No strings."
Daphne's dark gaze flits to his car and then his hand. She reaches for the card, shoving it in the back pocket of her jeans with a shrug. "Your car…" she says. His kindness pulls out her guilt like a magnet. She is the one at fault.
"I … I don't want my name on any insurance claims or anything like that, you know? No checks, no police reports." The damage to the car is well over the minimum for a required police report. "I'm not registered, and I want to keep it that way, you know? But I can pay for the damage. If you trust me. I'll get you the cash if you tell me how much you think it'll cost. I'd do it now but I don't think I can walk in a straight line and at that sort of speed I'd just crash into someone else's car probably." There is a quick flash of a smile.
See? That wasn't so bad now, right? Silver gives the damage another look and shrugs. "I'll let you know. If you're serious, come by and see me and we'll work something out. I'm afraid I don't know a hell of a lot about cars or how much it costs to fix them." He walks over to the other side of the door and gives it a push. With much creaking and protesting, the door finally moves though not far enough to actually close. At least it's not still sticking out in the road. He pulls out his phone again and wool covered fingers tap at the keys, calling for a tow truck. "Be careful and try to stay at the speed limit next time." The phone begins to ring and he lifts it to his face, "This is James Silver, and I need a tow truck." He rattles off the address and then hangs up. He'll have to wait for the truck.
Daphne arches a brow, wincing slightly at the creak and groan of the car door she annihilated. While she couldn't avoid hitting the door, she had put on her brakes too little too late — but it probably kept her from being worse hurt. As it is, she has yet another concussion, she's pretty sure of it.
"The speed limit is for sissies, Silver," she quips with a smirk. "But maybe I'll try to be more careful."