Who: Alex & Ellis What: Ellis goes for a drink and finds a potential candidate for a companion replacement, and Alex is like "I know he doesn't think I'm a ho.", which he doesn't, so they're cool. Where: A bar. When: Friday evening. Warnings: Nothing really.
Having been driven from his apartment in an attempt to avoid his current companion only made the need to find a new one more urgent. The ride down to the bar had been quiet, completely quiet as he'd tipped the cabbie an extra $50 if he didn't open his mouth. Being let out at the corner that the seedy bar sat on, that extra was handed to him. The place wasn't too loud and the music was good. They didn't water down the booze either. That was important.
Traveling the short distance between the curb and the door, the doorman didn't give him a second glance before letting him inside. The soft jazz was accompanied by the sound of a lovely woman's voice. It was relaxing.
Seating himself down at the bar, he adjusted his coat and tie before tapping the counter. Placing a glass before him, the bartender poured the familiar amber liquid. He got a tip too, for not saying anything erroneous toward him. The regulars knew him very well. Most didn't talk to him, because it wasn't pleasant. Some drunks wandered up and attempted to speak with him, but he managed to move a seat or two down and they'd turn and talk to the other person beside them.
It wasn't too long until he found himself sitting next to someone who hadn't spoken a word to him since she'd sat down beside her. Looking up from his drink, he looked at hers, then at her. He didn't often take an interest, but she had nice hair. Her fingernails were short, clean. The state of her hands didn't appear that of someone who didn't do work, not that they appeared to do extra hard work. No rings, which meant that she wasn't attached. His eyes lifted enough to check her neck and her ears just to make sure.
The watch was a lot heavier than he was used to seeing on a woman. She had nice wrists, though. "Hello."
Alexis didn’t frequent places like this, but she did go occasionally. Tonight, she decided, was going to be the last of these little outings. She brought all of her money over through the portal with her, knowing that she’d be needing something once she got there. She had only intended to be unemployed for a few weeks, giving her a little time to explore the city and this new world and all it had to offer. A few weeks turned to many and she was quickly coming to realize that the day to find proper employment was soon and not later.
But soon wasn’t now and she still was going to enjoy her last evening out. Her cream colored dress was simple, form fitting except for the loose turtle neck, a brown belt at her waist. It was a deceptive ensemble, making it seem like she was kept warm as if she donned a sweater, until one’s eyes dropped down to take in the long of bare leg.
She hadn’t been there for very long but already she had been approached several times. Some were shot down politely, some less so, but only because no one had bothered to greet her properly. It always started with a line, a tired and old line that hundreds of women had heard before and rejected hundreds of times over. So when the stranger beside her opened with his simple greeting, it caught her attention more than anyone else’s had. He was handsome, well dressed, and she had noticed him when he came in. Or rather, she noticed that he had been as quiet and dismissive of some of the other patrons as she had been.
“Hi,” was her simple greeting back, her smile small, warm but small, as if waiting for the dreaded pick up line to come next.
The bit of leg was admittedly distracting. The color of her skin was very nicely complimented by that of the dress. He didn't openly gawk at her, so much as continue to catalogue information as he went along. The way she reacted to his greeting for instance, spoke volumes. The greeting may have been simple, but the slight smile that followed would have probably made any other man sit up to his full height. He didn't react in any such way, nor was she sated with the follow-up pick up line she was expecting to hear.
Instead, he just continued to look at her quietly and take a sip of his beverage. He wasn't the kind of person to fill silence with inane chatter. He wondered how she'd fair with it. His eyes fell elsewhere for a moment as he called for another drink. "I'd like to pay for your next round." It wasn't a request nor an order, and he followed through telling the bartender to put it on his bill. He would have said he'd pick up her entire night's tab, but now was not the time. "I would also like the pleasure of knowing your name." Again it was neither a question nor request. It was clearly expected that she comply, as he'd already set the pattern.
He hadn't introduced himself properly, and he wasn't going to give someone a line. It simply wasn't his style.
This was interesting. No questions or requests from this one, just statements. Rather than put her off it intrigued her enough to follow his lead, if only to see how far he’d go with this tactic.
“Alex,” was the reply, short and sweet, extending a hand out to give her usual firm handshake. Her gaze dropped down to the drink he had in front of him. Her own glass was running empty, barely anything at the bottom, and with one quick skip she downed the rest.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” If he was going to pay then she could at least keep pace.
"Ellis." He obliged her with his own name. She didn't have to ask, it was a mutual exchange of information. "Do you do anything interesting?" He was well aware of how easily misconstrued the question could have been interpreted, but he didn't bother to attempt to clarify. He just watched as she took up his drink. That was interesting. She wasn't afraid she'd lose her head or wasn't afraid of losing her head over something a little stronger. It was something he could admire for now. The fact that she'd been able to pick up the road she'd laid down was a plus at least.
The tone of her legs spoke volumes about her keeping in shape. It wasn't the normal kind of work out shape, she was a little more physical than the traditional gym junkie. Her posture was good too. The way she filled out the sweater dress was more than pleasing. All he needed to know was whether she was currently employed at, or what her hobbies were, not that they really mattered. It was just a nice addition to keep his companion happy if she performed well. As long as it didn't involve copious amounts of shopping. That is when his eyes dropped down to take in her shoes. She might not have been one in the much of the way of jewelry, but other obsessions could easily replace that one.
There was a smirk at the corner of her mouth as she caught him looking at her legs, and she wasn’t in the least bit bothered by it. Shoes weren’t an obsession of hers, and the ones she wore that night showed that. They were a simple, strappy contraption, not fancy or expensive or particularly high. She was tall enough already, even sitting down.
“I used to do interesting things.” Somewhere in the course of the evening she picked up a matchbook and was quietly, occasionally, deftly, rolling it over the knuckles of her left hand while the right picked up her glass. Where and why she picked up a bad habit like that fell under Interesting Things but her lips were pressed against the rim of her drink to tell him that story. She sighed as the alcohol gave her a pleasant burn, no cough or grimace at the hard drink, no shock at the strength at all. She had drunk much worse, and much more. “I don’t do much anything these days. You? What do you do?” He had spent much of his time observing her - she would’ve been blind not to notice. Now it was her turn to take him all in.
Well, the lack of a slap was a good sign. He really did not enjoy getting hit, especially in the face. Some called it vanity. He just called it 'not liking to get hit in the face'. It was never pleasant, not to mention there was that sound that accompanied it and everyone turning to stare at you. It was embarrassing and something he'd like to avoid.
She was sure of herself, the smirk told him that much as he met her eyes again. The shoes were nice, but functional. They weren't any brand he'd seen in the last month or two, which was also comforting. It just meant he'd have to upgrade her wardrobe. She seemed like she knew how to shop just fine, but it was just the quality of attire, not so much the style. His assessment was momentarily halted by the distraction that the matchbox had provided as she deftly ran it along the back of her fingers. She could drink too. That was a comforting thought.
"I solve problems," he answered concisely. "If I buy you another drink, will you share the stories of the interesting things that you used to do?" It wasn't often that he asked other people to talk, and even the bartender paused at that before refilling his glass, and hers.
He was just as succinct as she was and the single chuckle that she gave was amused by it. His question made her pause, the first question out of a series of requests and statements. The look the bartender gave made the moment that much heavier. So this wasn’t the usual game? The surprises just kept coming.
She nodded curtly to the bartender, letting him know that another round of their drinks was in order. To Ellis she gave him a slight eyebrow raise, best not to shrug when holding a glass. “My interesting things aren’t really stories.” What to say and what not; what kind of woman did she want to be tonight? “I... I used to fight. I used to be in the military.” A woman who could handle herself. A woman who could handle someone else. “I used to gamble. I used to gamble a lot.” A woman who had vices, and who used to enjoy her vices. Was there anything else?
She took another sip of her drink and gave him another unapologetic look. That was as interesting as she was going to get. “What kind of problems do you solve?”
The more she talked, the more convenient she sounded. So far, he was liking what he was hearing, not that he gave any real indication. The man didn't appear to smile about anything. He did enjoy her smiles, however, as much as he enjoyed the rest of her. The gambling thing would be a bit of a problem, but he could keep that on a short leash. He had money to burn, and as long as he kept her busy, he was sure she wouldn't really have time to do the whole gambling thing. She made it sound like she worked past it, but those things always had a way of creeping back up.
"We'll just call it security. Are you currently employed?" The way his tone lilted upward at the end could let her know that an offer was probably going to be following that statement. He wasn't sure if people got offered jobs in bars, but he'd done it twice before. Third time was a charm, wasn't it? Everything seemed to be going swimmingly so far.
Employed? That made an eyebrow raise. The conversation so far had side stepped any serious topics, as most first conversations did. Bringing about employment turned everything in a different direction, a more serious direction, and Alex wasn’t sure if she liked that.
“Are you going to try and offer me a job?” Her mouth quirked into a smirk, although there was a slight edge to it. “Should I be worried about what kind of jobs I’m being offered in a bar?” They had danced around the topic just moments ago with their talk of of ‘interesting things’. But he looked to be speaking a little more seriously, so she returned the tone in kind. Her leg uncrossed and set both heels down on the metal bar of her stool, a less comfortable siting position, in case she wanted to make an easy exit at his next answer.
Alex may have shifted her entire body, but Ellis continued to sit relaxed in his chair. The man made no sign of actually moving to try and stop her or hold her. He simply took another sip of his drink, taking in the tone of her voice. "Actually, I was considering it." He tipped his glass at her, as if saying it was partially attributed to the contents of said glass. "I just need you to answer three questions as honestly as possible."
This was the always the touchy part. "How long have you been in Seattle on this side?" It was worded to see if she'd catch the subtle hint of Musings. "Have you experienced anything unusual and do you have any unusual talents?"
The question didn’t make her posture any worse, or better, but her eyes narrowed slightly at the recognition. It wasn’t a bad thing, being found out, and he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t Creation either. But it put her off guard and spun her handle of this situation further from her grasp. He was still surprising her but she was finding it a little less charming.
“A month,” she admitted. “Give or take.” As for talents, she shook her head. “Nothing.” Nothing she was aware of at least. There as the matter of the strange things in her apartment, but she wasn’t about to let him know about that. It was bad enough she admitted them to Silas. She wasn’t going to tell a complete stranger.
It wasn’t much to go on, but the way her expression shifted was enough for him to try and press a little further. Obviously, his current companion was driving him to the point of grasping at straws. Either way, if he was making a mistake, he could always have her shot and disposed of discreetly. Well, no. Maybe he’d find a mind wiper. "I'm in need of a new..." There was always a delicate way of putting this. The wrong word could give off the wrong impression, although his last companion didn't mind sharing his bed. He didn't exactly push the woman in that direction. He just assumed she was bored.
"... I can never agree on a proper title for the position," he said raising both brows and letting out a sigh. "Companion? Bodyguard? Assistant?" He could easily take care of himself, but it never hurt to have someone stand around and look like they did it for him. "Your military experience could come in handy at my company. Don't worry, I won't be asking you to shoot people." He finished his drink. "At least not until I know I can trust you." The lack of expression was just enough to make anyone believe he was serious. There was a beat for her to tick a response before he followed up with, "Just kidding." The two words were delivered in the same flat tone.
Assistant or bodyguard would have been met with interest but preceded by companion and Alex realized she wasn't’ going to be relaxing any time soon. Her expression of stoic disbelief never changed, especially since his tone didn’t either. Her hand stopped and set her drink back on the counter. Somehow she wasn’t thirsty any longer. She would have left but there was the matter of her employment, or lack thereof. Covering one person was one thing and it was something she could do easily -- companionship aside. But he mentioned a company...
“What does your company do, exactly?” A million things came to mind as to why someone with military experience would be good, and most of them weren’t the best of things. She’d get to the shooting people thing later.
It always took people some time to warm up to his sense of humor, mostly because he just didn't laugh. Ever. Most people didn't laugh around him. He didn't take it to any level of personal offense that she didn't seem to appreciate his humor.
When she asked what the company did, he pulled a card out of the inside of his coat pocket and held it to her. In the center was a circle with the letters A.R.C. emblazoned across it. "We take care of possible spills into humanity." His voice had lowered though his tone hadn't changed. "We protect good people from being exposed to those who wouldn't understand them." He could've been talking about anything to someone who wasn't tipped into the know of there being Creations amongst mortals. "It's becoming increasingly difficult with the amount of idiots running around in wholesale Halloween costumes, but we do what we can."
He finished his drink and turned to look at her, finally. "Interested?"
“Maybe.” Her eyes were focused on the business card as she talked, taking it from his hand and holding it between her slim fingers. She had heard and seen all the talk about the vigilantes, seen the pictures. They weren’t exactly something she wanted to get herself involved in, even indirectly like he seemed to be saying. But he had a point. Someone was going to find them all out and that didn’t bode well for any of them. She had only just gotten there but she was liking Humanity and its little world enough -- oddities aside. She could do something to protect it, or protect her cover.
And it wouldn’t hurt to be paid for it.
“And what would my job be exactly? It sounds a lot like clean up but you originally mentioned you needed protection.”
"Yes, that." He's already seen how she'd reacted to companion, so he just rolled into it. "I need someone to live with me." There was a pause there for him to read her reaction to the statement. "That was the companion part. You'd have your own room, and you'd be able to decorate the apartment in any way you see fit." The last part was said with a shrug. The fact that it was inundated with antlers and zebra rugs didn't sit too well with him. The memory made him frown. At least he'd protected his room by letting her go with the strange bamboo motif.
"I'm in the Aubade, so I doubt there'd be much encroaching on your personal space and there would be no lack of privacy." He took a sip of his newly filled glass. "And being as wealthy as I am, not to mention being in the position that I am in, it never hurts to be a little extra careful." He set the glass back on the napkin. "I do go down into the thick of things every now and then. Having an extra set of eyes while my team does their job wouldn't hurt."
Live with him? She gave him a long stare. She had half been expecting a proposition, and certainly this was one of sorts. But it wasn’t one that she could justify a quick punch so she simply settled for staring. One minute passed. Then two. And then Alex pulled back into her seat and took another sip of her drink. And then a second sip.
“...Just live with you...” She was always of the mind that whatever sounded too good, was. So far a handsome and supposedly wealthy businessman offered to buy her drinks, give her a job. She just needed to protect him, possibly occasionally shoot people and, oh yes, live with him in her own room in his home.
There had to be a catch. “What’s the pay?”
The staring was amusing, not that he actually cracked a smile. The corner of his mouth didn't even twitch. "Yes." In a way, being rich worked to his advantage in the way that she could just view him as a lonely eccentric.
It always came down to the money in the end, didn't it? He had come to find that people were willing to overlook a lot of things with the right amount of zeros behind it. Pulling a pen out of his inner coat pocket, he wrote a figure down on the a napkin, folded it and slid it over toward her. "This doesn't include the free car of your choosing, health and dental insurance, and a whole new starting wardrobe." He had brought his glass to his lips and paused, tacking on the last bit as an afterthought, "not that your wardrobe seems lacking at the moment."
That was another little trick that she hadn’t been expecting, and there was the slightest bit of hesitance in her hand when she reached over to the napkin. She opened it and blinked hard at the large number that was staring back at her. She looked up at the bartender for a moment as if to confirm that this was a real situation, and then back at the number. No, she wasn’t imagining things. That was a very hefty sum.
His quip about her wardrobe brought her out of her reverie and her lips were turning into a small smile before she realized it. As much as she liked the number and all the other things he mentioned, it still sounded too good. Nearly all her instincts were telling her that this was a deal to walk away from. And yet, what else did she have?
“... Let me think on it.” It was a risky move, she knew. But as important as money was, she wasn’t about to let him think she was able to be bought so easily. “And let me find out more about this ARC of yours.”
"Sounds reasonable enough," he agreed to her terms. It wasn't easy to just go live with another person even if you were answering a roommate ad, which he hadn't put up. He'd just decided to pick the quiet, attractive, and experienced woman at the end of the bar. So far this was going much better than his last venture, and he was hoping there wasn't something horribly wrong with her that would make him want to strangle her in while she slept.
"There's an address on the back. You can come down and meet the team at your leisure. If you do agree to take the job, you'll have to let me know at least two days in advance." It'd be just long enough for him to kick his current housemate out. It was never good for the old to meet the new. He remembered the first time he'd made that mistake. It wasn't pleasant at all. Finishing his drink, he motioned the bartender over. "I'm done for the night, but this lady can have as much as she likes on me."
Pulling out his cellphone, he hit a few keys then slid it back into his pocket. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Alex. I look forward to hearing your response soon." That said, he slid off his chair and exited the bar.