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J'aime Everleigh Cavanaugh | Meg Giry ([info]ex_peepshows656) wrote in [info]bellumlogs,
@ 2010-01-27 21:19:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:cheshire cat, meg giry

Who: James & Rick.
What: A more successful conversation than the one on the stairs when he first moved in.
Where: 5th floor hallway.
When: Post-lights coming back on. After Dr. Sam fixed James' hand(without turning it into one of those zombified flesh-eating hands, kthx)
Warnings: Impossible to know. Some profanity.

James felt more together with the lights on, even if she didn't look it. In the course of the blackout, she'd been cut, groped, tripped over, and kicked. Now she just looked irritated, tired, and ready to be back in her apartment. She still hadn't found Lotte, but gave up her search after the lights came back on. Out of the darkness, it was easy to project her confidences that the other girl was fine. Even if someone had been following Sam and herself, blatantly fucking with them in the dark. Some idiot with too much time on his hands.

Rounding her way out of the stairway, because she was still leery of the elevator after all of this time, she hit the fifth floor like a jaguar. The smooth prowl that typically preceded the devouring of a smaller creature. Her hair was whiplashed, and the front pocket of her jeans was bloody.


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[info]takingsides
2010-01-28 02:55 am UTC (link)
Rick was a man intent; his usual feline precision was lost in the simple goal of getting to his final destination, and his eyes had a narrowed, silver glint. By the time James appeared at the end of the hallway, Rick was at his own doorway, examining the strips of masking tape that inhibited entrance. #505's doorway was stretched over with masking tape from frame to frame, at eye level, chest level, and knee. The rug was bunched up in the front entry way, and the coffee table had been pulled in to block the living room. Anybody that couldn't see where they were going would get a nasty surprise trying to get through that door, and it was obvious that Rick was trying to ascertain if they had. He straightened when he saw James with a sharp reaction time that was essentially Rick at his most alert, dropping pins and needles from tense muscles. He was armed too, and it wasn't likely that James had ever seen him armed.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-28 03:15 am UTC (link)
She missed the days of when this hallway was only her own. Her own to do back handsprings down, her own catwalk, her own slip n' slide lane. But, of course, Rick had moved in and ruined all of that.

James noticed him a moment after he tensed, and her steps came to a brief stop just out of the stairwell. She noticed the masking tape first, the gun second. There was the barest tilt of her head, and James resumed walking. Making her way to his side, and purveying the booby trapped apartment doorway.

She almost made a joke about it, but didn't find the situation of the blackout very funny. "Shoot anyone?" Blue eyes slid to him, serious.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-28 03:26 am UTC (link)
His shoulders unhinged from their unoiled crouch, and he took a breath before dipping his head in greeting. He'd pulled the tape down before she quite arrived, and when she did, he rolled it up into a ball in both palms and surveyed her with his usual expressionless geniality. The blue eyes slid down to the blood on her jeans, then back up to her face. "Do I need to?"

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-28 03:49 am UTC (link)
His eyes slid down her, and she misread the gesture for something more typical. Her mouth twisted, subtle and amused. "No."

In remembrance, her attention moved down a moment later, regarding the bloodstain the marked the right hip pocket of her jeans. James turned her hand over, briefly showing the palm with it's steri-strip sutures to prove it was nothing serious.

"Where were you?"

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-28 05:18 am UTC (link)
Rick's expression only grew more pensive. Belatedly, he replied, "The lobby. Waiting. Come in?" The last sentence was thoroughly disparate from the others, but he said it on the same breath and the same tone. Rick was strange that way; his mind always seemed to be on the eay to the next sentence before the conversation caught up. That, or he was having an entirely different conversation to begin with.

As he stepped over the threshold, he cleanly straightened the rug with the heel of one shoe, caught up the scarred but cleanly polished coffee table in one hand, and put it back where it belonged. He was still in his work slacks, but without the clean button-up he always wore as part of his suit, which meant he likely had just arrived home before the lights went out.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-28 05:36 am UTC (link)
The way he said it, James almost missed the invitation entirely. The words ran together on the same current of thought, and James blinked with an attempt to keep up when he moved into the threshold with welcome.

"I'm going to lock my apartment up," she said. Although there was a severity in her focus that said she'd come back.

A couple of minutes later, she returned. With black leggings on instead of bloodied jeans, and an ace bandage wrapped around her hand to keep from moving it, since something much more delicate than medical stitches was holding the cut together. It didn't hurt so bad, but it would affect her work if she didn't do her all to heal it.

"So you rigged your apartment, and headed down to the lobby.. with a gun." The look in her eyes wasn't judgmental, the two of them were beyond such introductory impressions. James knew that Rick was a man who acted with purpose, and she pinned him with contemplation. A lift of her chin, a sizing of the eyes.

"You don't trust this blackout?" She didn't either, but possibly only because there had been some maniac wandering around with foul intentions. Up until that point, it had seemed fairly commonplace to her.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-28 06:16 am UTC (link)
Rick looked after her for a moment, but then went back to inspecting his apartment. By the time she returned, he had gone over every inch of his apartment in some fashion or another, checked various hiding places and secure cabinets for their contents, and found nothing out of place--and Rick made sure he would know if anything would be out of place. Bits of paper that just looked like scraps on drawers that fell out of place when brushed aside... At any rate, he was back in the kitchen when she returned, filling a coffee pot with water at the faucet. He met her eyes for a moment when she observed his behavior, and he didn't ask her about hers, nor why she felt the need to change. Not yet. "Yes."

Attaching the lid to the coffeepot, he paused. "The blackout alone, maybe not a big deal. The doors inside jamming open, the doors to outside jamming shut, light clouding over, windows closed up--coincidence is just being gullible. Did you want coffee?" He honestly didn't know whether or not James drank coffee. Neither of them had ever stood in a home belonging to the other, and their time together had always been unplanned and undirected.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-28 06:32 am UTC (link)
She'd never seen Rick's apartment. This one in particular was obviously new to him, but she'd never seen the old one either. She'd never asked, or made it a priority to want to. But he'd never been to her's either. It wasn't unusual to her. Her apartment was a private, a safe place. Her attention skimmed his furniture, looking for a detail in it that she could pin to him. Something she could remember or hesitate on and say, That, that is definitely Rick. But nothing came to her, and in that she remembered that she didn't really know him at all.

"Coffee," she confirmed from over her shoulder. Turning with an advance toward the kitchen. Contemplation evident when she leaned against a counter. "But then why do it? If somebody did this, nevermind the how, what did they want?"

Something occurred to her, and creased her eyes. "Probably just somebody having a laugh."

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-28 06:58 am UTC (link)
Accustomed to department coffee that resembled melted tar, Rick made the coffee very black from beans ground no longer than three or four days before. He tended to burn through it fairly quickly.

Other than an odd preference for curved furniture rather than square or corner'd, Rick's possessions were nothing of note--at least, none that were visible in this room. The prints were nondescript, black and white, urban. The couch was traditionally masculine, rich brown leather, and the coffee table likely scarred and second-hand. The electronics were middle-high end, something he wouldn't be ashamed to show other bachelors or poor married bastards should they stray through his door. There was nothing deeply personal about the place, lived in as it might be. The only familiar thing was that it smelled vaguely of cinnamon and rich leather, both scents that seemed to live on Rick's skin. (The cinnamon came from mints, the leather from car upholstery.)

He joined her in the living room, handed her a mug of black coffee, then immediately sat down, perhaps in some obvious gesture of comfort in her presence meant to reassure. "Are you laughing?" Rick certainly wasn't.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-28 07:49 am UTC (link)
The room smelled like him in a way she'd forgotten. There was a familiarity in the atmosphere, although it was watered down. In this open air, the scent was mild. With a mouth pressed hot against bare skin, she remembered it as something more potent.

Strangely enough, what affected her was that the coffee Rick handed over was exactly as she preferred it. Simple. There was no way he could have known, but it drew her eyes up with warm consideration.

Which slammed down in a displeased smirk a moment later, when he spoke. "I said somebody, not me."

"Contrary to popular belief," she tucked one knee over the other, predatory, " I don't always get a laugh out of some stranger grabbing on me in the dark."

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-28 08:47 pm UTC (link)
Rick gave her a long, sober look of consideration. She should know by now he didn't think any such thing, and despite her profession and their ensuing relationship from that source, he didn't seem to take her, ahem, affection for granted. Whatever they had or did not have, it was mutual.

It made drinking coffee the what would be the height of awkward, if either of them acknowledged it. Rick was used to concealing discomfort even if he did feel it, but there was also a familiar recognition that James enjoyed. He liked James, and if he could conceal it, he did not bother. He liked his coffee black, and for some reason, it never occurred to him that she wouldn't.

"Just grabbing?" he asked. He didn't like the hand or the blood or the tiger tenseness around her eyes.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-29 01:31 am UTC (link)
No, she knew better than to truly believe Rick thought that of her. The evening had been a knot of stress under her skin, and it was in that simmering irritation that she'd snapped with such suggestion, anyway. The disciplined rationale reflected in Rick's eyes sobered her, and James swept some hair from her forehead with a sigh. Calming despite the blackout and the missing Lotte on floor twelve.

"He only touched, breathed on, general creeper stuff." Although harmless, she suppressed a shiver. What was really unsettling was that it happened twice. Not to her, but to Sam.

"I think he was following us, able to follow us somehow. He touched the person I was with more than once, on different floors. I don't think he was randomly hitting each floor and brushing up on everyone.. he had to of been able to see, Rick." She watched him intently, knowing he'd believe her.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-29 03:37 am UTC (link)
Indeed, he did. He nodded slowly. "It's looking that way." He lifted the cup, sipped without tasting, and thought. While he thought, the calm eyes went a little distant, but otherwise his expression remained consistent. "Where did he touch?" His eyes had come back down to earth, and he was watching her for signs of distress or uncertainty.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-29 04:47 am UTC (link)
She didn't have to pause or think back on it. The memory was fresh, and even if she'd been unable to see.. the interaction was vibrantly lit in her mind.

"Only my shoulder, in touching my hair." James didn't blanch or tremble with the retelling. It was only a brush in the dark, and she'd never played victim. Her focus was intent, waiting for Rick to spill anything he suspected or knew.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-29 09:16 am UTC (link)
At her inquiring focus, Rick obligingly turned his thoughts inside out to show them to her. He had gotten out of the habit of doing this since he had lost his long-time partner and the last person he completely trusted. Now he made the conscious effort. "He--fairly sure it was a he--made it past me out the doors the moment the lights went on. That follows he somehow knew when they would return, and probably that they would go out. He therefore had measures to counteract it. The question I would like an answer to is why he went to so much trouble, and what he accomplished."

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-29 09:23 am UTC (link)
She grew quiet, but watched Rick consciously. She made absolutely no argument against the shadow-lurker being a man. "He must have caused the power outage, then."

She warmed her hands on the scald of the coffee mug. Enjoying the sweet bitterness of straight coffee. After a sip, she reflected. "But.. if he knew when the lights were coming back on, he must have had somebody else in on it.. to turn the lights on?, right"

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-29 09:25 am UTC (link)
"Somebody capable of taking the lights of the whole building down without disturbing the power grid or alerting the power company or similar authorities."

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-29 09:27 am UTC (link)
"The landlord couldn't do that.." The words were simultaneously a question, and confidently denied.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-29 09:29 am UTC (link)
"Unlikely," he agreed. Then he stopped, and let her theorize on her own, because he had no further assumptions nor certainties.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-30 05:45 am UTC (link)
"The fog and all of those doors.. it all happened so quickly. There had to of been more than one person." She frowned into her coffee mug before taking a sip. James couldn't explain it, and that bothered her.

"Maybe the building's haunted." The way she said it, the words were obviously near belief.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-30 09:32 am UTC (link)
"Planned, certainly." He rested his cup on his knee, running a thumb over the rim in slow, circular patterns. Looking up, he smiled. There was something of his old humor there, a rare enough thing that she seemed to call up with more ease than any other mutual acquaintance. "I didn't know you were superstitious, James."

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-30 09:47 am UTC (link)
"You don't believe in phantoms, Rick?" Her smile was an easy tuck of lip between pale teeth. Something playful and incendiary, to drop the severe subject matter they'd been pouring over.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-30 09:59 am UTC (link)
"No," he said, not losing his neatly placed smile. "Ghostbusters cost too much." He could have said that he was quite in the business of death, and he'd like it to stop where it was supposed to stop, for the good of everyone involved; he didn't. Rick acknowledged his profession's brand of humor wasn't for everyone. He had long learned to be careful with it.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-30 10:34 am UTC (link)
"Mm," she murmured thoughtfully. Drawing back into the comfort of furniture, her eyes pinned him consciously beneath her scope.

"Why did you move here?"

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-30 10:39 am UTC (link)
"Nicer place, cheaper rent, liked the staircase." His eyes sparkled under her inspection, and he betrayed not a hint of discomfort. "It doesn't bother you, does it? Me being on this floor?" Brows quirked in interest.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-30 10:48 am UTC (link)
"No," she assured softly. With enough confidence and eye contact that it was obvious she meant it. James wasn't bothered by him being here. Despite what they'd had, Rick was someone for her to talk to. A person that knew her better than some/ Maybe even better than Rick, himself, imagined.

Pausing briefly, James considered his explanation. He liked the staircase?

"Are you lying to me?" Despite the question, her tone wasn't accusatory. James wasn't the type of woman to berate him on a topic like this, and he might have known that. This inquiry would only be asked once. She was willing to drop it, whether he was lying or not.

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-30 10:54 am UTC (link)
Rick did like the staircase. Not so much when he was hauling his entertainment system up it, but still, it was a mark of age and distinction that select few buildings had. Age was one of the few things Rick took the time to respect--it had to do with his own chances of survival. Surprise made the careful eyes crease and crinkle with new, unexpected tension. Rick was a smooth pond surface much of the time, especially when it came to his personality, and disturbances were hard to catch. "I do like the staircase." It was an admittance; he was conceding to her question by not answering it, and simultaneously informing her that he had good reason to do so.

He leaned forward and put his mug down on the coffee table, catching his weight with elbows on knees. When he brought his head up, the gaze was familiar, warm like the burn of dry ice. "Are you still in the mood for coffee?" Or something else?

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-30 11:51 pm UTC (link)
James didn't share Rick's warm, fluttery feelings for the staircase. She'd been forced into a loveless marriage with it after the elevator had betrayed her. The blue cadmium of her eyes held Rick when he didn't answer her question, which was an answer in itself.

James was aware that everyone had their reasons for playing in the shadows of honesty, Rick more so than most. The dancer didn't seem offended or rallied by it. She sipped her cooling coffee, following Rick's subtle movement with her eyes. Conscious and a little feral from above the rim of her mug.

She watched the way his elbows pinned his knees, and when her gaze locked with Rick's, it was a little nostalgic. Her smile was brief, and it went unseen behind the safety of her coffee mug. James took one last taste before setting it on the coffee table beside his. "It's been a long night, Rick." Blackouts and bogeymen.

James stood, all fluid and marionette grace. Crossing to him, her fingers found the hair at his temple in a second nature embrace. Soft, and barely there at all before she was stepping back again. "I'll see you."

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[info]takingsides
2010-01-31 12:30 am UTC (link)
Rick took this rejection, if that's what it was, with mild characteristic grace. He was pleased that James had not insisted on details of his presence in the building, though he should have known she would leave his space empty of petty curiosity. He liked that about her, just as he liked how aware of herself she could be. With another woman he might have had to endure constant questioning at every subsequent meeting, or worse, fend off accusations of subtle courting, as if he would be so horribly cliché.

His fingers raised in time to catch a quick charge of skin as she pulled her wrist away, drawing a line over soft skin in as much nostalgic recognition as she offered him. He stood up. "Of course. I'm down the hall." He smiled the unreadable smile and held the door open for her.

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[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-01-31 06:49 am UTC (link)
It wasn't a rejection in the same sense that Rick might have taken it. Although, James didn't really think Rick the type to get heartbroken over such a thing, anyway. Their chemistry, their familiarity, was undeniable. When he touched her wrist, she bit her lip. Remembering something that had taken place in the backseat of a taxicab rather than these apartment walls.

Was it really a good idea to rekindle this now that he lived a couple doors down? Booty calls weren't supposed to reside in the same building, James thought she'd read that somewhere.

"Of course," she nodded, echoing him. When he held the door open for her, James slipped through it without a second glance.

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