What You Do (To Me)


delilah_icon.gif rasheed_icon.gif

Scene Title What You Do (To Me)
Synopsis Rasheed gets distracted— just a little— on his way out.
Date May 1, 2018

Red Hook Market

Though the investigation into food thefts and the ensuing mysteries of the underground are still ongoing, there is still a sense of responsibility from the side of SESA to keep an eye on where things went wrong— at least now and again. Sending someone in to check up on the safety and status of the Red Hook warehouses and storage is a small job, but one that is necessary. Stopping to speak with some members of council in charge of it doesn’t take long, and things will still be in order since the last time someone checked in. Nothing like the large scale thefts that had happened.

The market itself has a standard midday feel, with sparse patrons and regulars here most late afternoons. The Red Hook Tavern is just as quiet, at least after lunchtime. The stalls open during these hours are largely the ones with regular hours, and Delilah’s is among those; she steps back to the front to turn her Open sign back around, mouth still full of bagel. Someone across the way gives a wave, which she returns, distractedly.

Her space is an array of metal racks of clothes in the front, a workspace in the back, and rows of fabric samples strung along beside a book of patterns. A lot of color of late, thanks to spring warming up. The sound of a small radio filters tinnily from her desk behind everything.

When most everything seems in order, a fairly normal and routine day for him means he now has to find something to do. Anything to stall from boring paperwork.

He looks over at the stalls, and then suddenly spots Delilah, er, I mean Delilah's fabrics, and decides to go take a look.

Upon approach her stall, he straightens his open blazer, leans one elbow onto the stall itself, and casually flashes his SESA badge. "Agent Rasheed Mustang. Everything good over here? You've got some nice fabric, good clothes, great hair." Then, looking around at the things she has on display. "You've got some great merchandise too."

Though she misses the totally casual approach, the leaning in and flick of badge catches her eye readily enough. Delilah has her hands up tying that hair back, giving the SESA agent a somewhat surprised blink before he gets a smile. It seems halfway curious too, given the way she cocks her head once her tie is secure.

“Oh, well, thank you.” She definitely sounds flattered, so at least he’s already made a good impression. “Good? I’d say so. I’d certainly hope so. To what else do I owe the pleasure?” Delilah moves to reorder some of the hangers on her racks, keeping Rasheed in a conversational peripheral. “Or are you just checking things out?”

"I'm definitely checking things out." Rasheed answers with a bit of a sly grin, but then he really does seem to take a good look at her fabrics. "Do you tailor suits at all? I'm not a big suit guy, but SESA likes their dress code. I throw on a blazer and some pants and call it a day. That's what happens when you're too valuable to drop over some clothes."

"But…" He looks around the market, giving more thought to her question. "I was doing follow-up on the food shortage stuff. I usually investigate, well, things that are a little more abnormal, but I heard this has gotten a bit abnormal. I don't know much yet, but I will."

"Now, though… now my business is done and I'm avoiding paperwork." Leaning in again, this time with both elbows. "And then I saw your merchandise." he says, again, smiling, keeping eye contact when she chooses to give it.

The more playful side of his answer is worth a small laugh, and Delilah gives it that much; she looks over her shoulder as she works to reorder things into a more coordinated scheme. It does not take long— mostly fixing the work of browsing people. She turns back to Rasheed then, leaning on her side of the stall with one hand, weight shifting to one side.

“The food thing has gotten a lot abnormal. I’ve heard some crazy things lately.” Her brown eyes have a definite glint of seriousness in them, though it seems to dissipate as she moves on. Delilah is lacking in shyness, and her gaze meets his with a rather unfaltering air. “So I’m a distraction from your work? Wouldn’t be the first time.” She tuts at the roof of her mouth with her tongue, smile closed but wide. “Yes, I do suits. Full or partial sets. Usually it’s guys looking to get a ‘nice suit’ for their wardrobe, but the ‘government job’ version works too. I try to be budget conscious for the working man, yaknow?”

"I mostly go with the blazer and pants, and then throw something on under the blazer. I can't do the tie and button ups. Maybe if I finally get a ticket to one of those galas." Though, Rasheed can't help it, his investigative mind kicks in almost immediately. "What exactly have you heard? Anything you think might be able to help?"

His tone is more serious now, which doesn't stop his eyes from occasionally falling to her neck.

The neck is very valuable.

He is a man of culture, after all.

“Oh, just that rumors get around…” Delilah tilts her head as his eyes recenter, and she just smiles a little more until it touches her eyes. It sobers for her words. “People living underground, dead bodies, rats on rats on rats— some interesting things. Not much on what was behind thefts though, I assume you guys like to keep the details close.”

“Delilah, by the way.” She extends her hand with a distinct cheer to the gesture, unbothered by his presence. He's not keeping her from any deadlines.

Rasheed takes her hand, gently holding it until he makes a deliberate show of reluctantly releasing it. "Usually I investigate things like people reporting ghosts, aliens, monsters. It usually turns out to be someone's ability out of control. I did a lot of investigations like that back when I worked for the FBI. I guess you could call me a fine ass Mulder."

"Hey there." he says in response to her name. He's sure she's heard the song. "This what you do every day?" he wonders, reaching into his blazer to pull out a card. Agent Mustang, and then a number and an email. "If you need anything." he says, offering the card to her.

“People seriously report paranormal things? In this day and age?” Delilah laughs softly, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. She supposes that if someone doesn’t know much about Expressives, it might seem like that…? His play at her name earns a more earnest laugh, and she just shakes her head a bit, ponytail bobbing. Gets that a lot, a bit hard to escape. Especially living here, of all places.

“I am way too familiar with all kinds of phenomena to think things are supernatural… Least, not anymore. When most of your friends have superpowers, one can get a wee bit jaded.” She takes his card when he offers it out, and she gives it a cursory look before tucking into the front pocket of her shirt, rolling up her sleeves a moment after. “On decent shopping days it’s better to work on jobs here,” Dee points a thumb over her shoulder to where her machine sits in the back. “But otherwise I work from home. It’s great for my babysitting budget.”

Her cards aren’t as nicely printed as SESA’s, but she does fish one out from under her front table to pass him in return; they look hand-written, actually— copied into multiples, but clear nonetheless.

Rasheed takes her card, looking it over, smiling at the personal touch, then slides that into his blazer. "People don't stop believing in the paranormal. And you never know, one day I might actually be dealing with an alien. The other day I saved a woman who couldn't figure out how to stop living in her electronics. People thought she was a ghost."

"You have a baby?" he asks, and then asks the most reasonable follow-up, perhaps. "Married? Boyfriend?" Leaning his hands on her stall, he adds, "And if not, busy after this?"
“If you see any aliens you should let me know.” Delilah clearly has an opinion on life visiting from other planets. Timelines, sure thing! Planets, not so much. She’s seen the former for herself, even. Not that she wouldn’t want to see an alien. When she’s half a second from intoning on the fate of the VCR lady, Rasheed goes on— and there’s a bit of a conceding chuckle.

“He’s seven, not such a baby anymore. And not married, no. Single mom life.” Delilah helpfully wags empty left fingers at her side, a sheepish shade taking over her easy smile, freckled nose scrunching just a touch. “I am.” Sorry, Mulder. “But, I still gave you my number, didn’t I?” She teases lightly. A consolation prize.

"That means I can call you during school hours." Rasheed takes note, then stands up straight, offering one last smile. "I'll definitely use it. I better get back to HQ and do this paperwork. I'll write about how I got absolutely nothing done here, but I did meet a red haired seamstress, so it all worked out for me at least."

Though she doesn’t confirm or deny her answering during school hours, Delilah does grin at his example of paperwork. “I would be honored to be included in your official paperwork.” Hand to her chest, flattered pose and all. “It was lovely to meet you. Don’t work too hard, hm?”

"I'll only work hard for you, Delilah." Rasheed blows an exaggerated kiss to her, smiles, then he just turns and walks off for the exit. He seems confident enough to not wait for a response, he just wants to leave her like she just got hit by a hurricane.

Or perhaps a Mustang stampede oh shit.

It isn’t every day that someone comes up to her like that, so Rasheed’s charming exit earns him a wide smile as he goes, tempered by a small heat in her cheeks. Sometimes it’s nice. At least when people are friendly and not overbearing— like Rasheed. Delilah takes the card back out of her pocket to slide it away into her wallet, casting a look over her shoulder in his wake before going back to her work.

Yep, definitely feels nice.

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