"That Was Dumb."


len_icon.gif tracy2_icon.gif

Scene Title "That Was Dumb."
Synopsis Not too many can get away with saying that to Tracy Strauss.
Date October 7, 2009

Tracy Strauss' Hospital Room - Location Undisclosed

The private, expensive hospital room looks more looks more like a hotel room, with warm wallpaper, gentle lights, colored curtains and carpets. The bed is laid out in front of a television, which is set on the news, while Tracy Strauss is laid up in a hospital gown - which actually appears to be a nightgown - with her arm in a sling. On her lap is a computer, and stuck to her ear is a phone. The medication has not allowed her to have a martini, so instead she's going with a diet coke - perched precariously close to the edge of the night stand. The shades have been opened, letting hte light waft in. Outside stand two guards from the NYPD, making sure that, while Miss Strauss is here, she gets no unwanted visitors.

Unwanted or not, Len flashes his HomeSec badge and is immediately allowed into the room. He pushes the door open and steps inside. It's been a hectic day of trying to uncomplicate his life after being possessed by Juliet, but regardless, he still has a job to do. When someone close to the President gets mugged by a Humanis First member, then that makes things rather interesting. His cowboy hat is probably spotted first, as the rest of his tall, large body completes the journey into the room.

"You realize that making a public spectacle of your registration completely put you on the Humanis First radar, right? Tell me that was your intended plan and please tell me you had something in mind and it just didn't quite go as you wanted." The Len walks over and pulls a chair towards the bed and makes himself at home.

"I'll call you back," Tracy murmers over the phone, hanging up and lifting her head with that pearly white smile toward Len. "Agent Denton, how nice to see you! Please, come in. I wasn't expecting such a pleant surprise," Of course, she's only saying all this and pointing it out just to riffle him up. "Of course, we can get right down to business. I half-expected something to happen, it's true, but I hardly thing a press release is a spectacle. I could have made it a spectacle. A press conference would have done that nicely."

The smile is returned with a grin of his own as he shakes his head. "Seems as if you got the attention you were looking for." Len reaches his long arm over and gently ensures that the can of Diet Coke does not fall off the side of the little table at her bedside. "You realize they're going to try again. Our little fuzzy friend isn't one to just give up after one failed attempt. You're now the enemy by genetics alone and he's either going to try himself, or he's going to send someone new to try and take you out. Heaven forbid someone with your gene be so close to the President of the United States."

The things I could tell you about our President and his genes, Tracy thinks dryly, but she doesn't speak it. "I imagine so. But I've already identified him in a photo lineup to the police. It's not like anyone is pleased with him at the moment. He lit thermite in Dorchester Towers - do you know how many rich and influential people live there? Should he manage, miraculously, to rear that dome of his over a crowd he will be spotted and it will not be pretty." She gestures to the comfy armchair nearby for Len to sit if he would like. "This isn't to say I'm not taking precautions. Surely I am - I'll be hidden, for one. When I'm not at work, of course."

He's already made himself at home, so he's not going to get up just yet. He listens to what he has to say. "Well, he made himself an exit strategy. It's not something he'd go in there without. He doesn't take failure very well, that much I can tell you." Len lifts up the tray to her lunch to see what she's not eaten before replacing the lid and turning his attention back to her. "I would highly suggest that you go back to D.C. and bury yourself as deeply as you can inside the White House. Once we get this guy, I fully believe the rest will follow then you can come on back to the city." Len glances at Tracy to try and read her expression to his suggestion.

Her expression, like always, is a difficult mix of gratitude and denial. "Len, I can't go back to D.C. My work is here. What kind of example would I be setting for other Evolved if I turned and ran? I'm someone that can be protected - ordinary people are at a much higher risk than I am. How are they supposed to feel when someone as protected as I am is still too afraid to stay?" It's political. Of course. What isn't?

"Don't be dumb." That's Len's response.

Len sits up in his chair and slides a little closer to the bed. "And don't pull that cockamaimy bull-crap with me. There's much be something else in it for you to be sticking around here after one attempt on your life. But, not like I can force you on a plane and make you go back. I just hope you're going to be more careful with your actions. Last thing I need is the President breathing down my neck as to why you got yourself killed. Though.. it could be a good case for increasing my budget." he teases, of course.

"I have to do my job, Len, the same as you have to do yours," She smiles, probably one of the few genuine smiles he's seen, though there is laughter behind it. "And your concern is touching. I don't know - perhaps it is time I took a little vacation. Got away from work - or at least partially. I can't exactly leave it during September, so I'd still be wired to every congressional seat in the house but…perhaps it is a thought I should consider."

The touch of geniune is.. well, touching as Len rises to his feet, sliding the chair back where it was. "Well, considering you were able to fend off our little friend, I suggest that you are careful from this point forward. Unless your ability allows you to smell a dwarf from a mile away, it may not do you any good. Either that, or perhaps I need you to come work for me." Len winks and reaches down to give her arm a gentle squeeze. "If you need anything, you know how to reach me."

Tracy leans up at his little touch, giving the black man a small peck on the cheek. Very French, but Tracy's hot so no one will yell at her for it. "I appreciate it. In the spirit of protection, might you have someone, say, available?" She asks. "I understand if you find the risk too great, I can talk to Homeland. The policewoman I spoke to suggested I get some private bodyguards and…if you have someone free I could hardly think of someone more trustworhy. Assuming you don't intend to kidnap me yourself for some evil purpose."

"I'll see if I have someone." Len might have flushed a little at the kiss if he faced her long enough for it to be noticed. As it is, he's already heading for the door. "Can't make any promises. As it is, I'm burning the candle at both ends as is most of my team. And as for kidnapping," he turns around and arches a brow in her direction. "What was this super secret ability you have again? I might be able to put you to work when you get out of here, if you want to leave the world of fashion and politicing behind." He grins at her.

"The very nice Agents at DHS called it 'cryokinesis.'" She says, hoping that will be enough to sate the man's curiosity. "I'm sure you have access to all the files. Even though I imagine you'll look over mine anyway, at least feel comfortable with the knowledge that it's with my permission." Tracy offers him a smile and a nod of her head. "Feel free ot visit anytime you like, Len."

Len dips his hat down as he reaches for the door. "Take care of yourself, Strauss." No doubt, Len will be checking in on Tracy's registration file at his earliest convenience. If she has cryokinesis, then one would think she'd be quite capable to take care of herself. That doesn't mean he won't be keeping an eye on things just to be sure. He slips out, making sure those at the door have his number in case anything bizarre happens.

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