Who: Marco Medina & Teja Jansen What: Tracking down old "friends". And trading threats. When: Saturday evening. Where: Begins outside the Seattle Adjustment Center and ends in the parking lot of Teja's building. Rating: PG-13 to be safe Status: Complete
He was feeling for the disenfranchized tonight. The poor and the destitute were really in for the mother of all rains, if the weatherman was to be trusted. His own interior barometer was disagreeing, but the evening chill was enough to make all of that useless. He pushed his hands into his coat pockets a little deeper and stifled a yawn. She was gonna come this way, sooner or later.
Teja walked out to her car, talking on her bluetooth. She opened the door and threw her briefcase inside as she continued to her conversation with her broker. It was something she normally would've continued to do in her office, but she was trying to get into the habit of being home at a decent hour, if at least for this week.
"See if you can't get them to come down 100 and to keep all of the furnishings. If he's taking the artwork I expect it to go 250. Either they do or they don't consider the installations in their appraisal or not, which is it? We're standing at 3.1 as is or they're going to have to come down..."
Busy woman. He remembered her as such, although the bluetooth was new. Strange, he would've had her pegged for an iPhone user. He watched her casually, like trying to make sure she was the one before he gave chase. It would be poor form to just run around after random women. He had more class than that.
Kicking his foot against the ground, he flipped open his cell and snapped a shot of her license plate number. One puzzle piece. Next came the flipping through his contacts for the taxi company. Maybe it wasn't spy movie worthy, but you had to make sacrifices when you didn't drive.
The phonecall ended by the time she took the ramp onto the highway. It was up to the owners on the offer, she had been going back and forth since her and Jasper's visit to the open house that Thursday. Her husband had reservations, but she could tell that even if they settled on a different house that it was the one that would make him happy. It was perfect.
She drove to her condo downtown, stopping along the way to the farmer's market for fresh fish to bring home. Even she looked forward to having a shorter commute and to be closer to the things that interested her.
'Follow that car' was exactly the type of thing he would've thought was just so cool to say a couple of years previously. It had all the elements of a film noir, down to the shade of the streets and the outside temperature.
The taxi driver didn't ask any questions and Marco was almost amused. Did no one care that they were following a woman as she went about her usual end of the day business?
If the cab that appeared intermittently in her rearview mirror gave Teja pause, it was never for long. There were plenty of cabs in the area, nothing enough to warrant concern. She pulled into the underground car garage, the gate unmanned. Rolling down her window, she swiped the card into the automated kiosk to lift the gate to pull her car inside.
Marco covered the fare without waiting for change and ran after the car before the gate could slide back down. Made it through with a comfortable advantage on the mechanism and pulled his hands out of his pockets. She lived in a nice area, but did she live alone? Was she married? Did he care?
Teja parked in her reserved spot, stepping out of the car and walked over to the passenger side to gather the things she would be taking upstairs with her. She heard footsteps heading in her direction, most likely to the elevator. Most likely the man three floors above her, this was the usual hour he came home.
Marco's gait faltered a brief second. He was used to seeing her back - usually when she left him in isolation - but the lack of labcoat made for a stark contrast. 'What, are you gonna pussy out now? Be a man.' He recovered just as he reached the car parked beside hers. Elbows fell to the hood. "Good evening, Ms Jansen."
The noise jarred her to alert, and she dropped the bag in her arms as she turned to face the voice. A number sprung to mind, but the name pushed it's way to the front of her mind from the surprise. "Marco."
Her voice was a lot more calmer than it should've been, even as her body rebelled with a response deeply ingrained from nature. Adrenaline pumped through her veins from a pounding heart, and she laid a hand over it as means to calm it. "You're not where you're supposed to be."
Marco grinned. He wasn't in a cell, strapped down like an animal, that much was true. "I'm trying something new," he replied, drumming his hands on the hood and flicking his fingers. Jazz hands.
One finger pointed to her car as the rest of him pretended not to notice her fright. "Nice ride. You must make good money."
"You shouldn't be here." she pressed, ignoring his comment as she held on to the passenger door with one hand. Taking a deep breath, she appraised the situation and the man in front of her with dark eyes, debating who was present and what might set him off. Smiling, she stepped away from the door and closed it. "What else were you planning to try?"
Which one of you is here?
"Oh, you know," he smirked, "this, that. See if you're as curt and cutting out of the center as inside." He pushed himself upright, dragging his hands off the car with a squeaking sound. "See what the neighborhood's like. I might move here. It's..." he searched for the word, before snapping his fingers and adding: "trendy."
"Get a high paying job and you might move here." Even if Marco could afford to live here, the board would never allow him to move in, a detail she declined to leave out. "How I am outside of the center is none of your concern. You need to focus on your rehabilitation."
Marco's lips twisted into a pout as he rounded the car. She was just not playing ball tonight, was she? Maybe she'd had a long day at work. After all, torturing people for twelve hours straight took its toll. "Don't take this the wrong way, but for such a pretty girl, your personality sucks. You just feel the need to boss people around, don't you? It's not very attractive." To say the least. Most of the time it made him want to strangle her.
"I boss people around because it is my job to," she explained, crossing her arms. She could care less whether or not it made her attractive or not in his or anyone else's eyes. She followed his movement with her body. "I'm sure you understand that. When you taught, you had to make sure your students did as they were told, even if it meant they would think you were an unkind person in the end."
Marco stopped about three feet away, head tilted to the side. Expression disbelieving. "Are you trying to say we're... alike, Ms Jansen?" His voice dropped an octave, the echo still audible although maybe not reaching that far. He wondered if there were cameras in the garage. Was anyone playing voyeur?
"That is exactly what I'm saying, Mr. Medina." she said, unfolding her arms and taking a step forward. "Couldn't you tell after all of the time we spent together? Surely you must have seen through the act."
Either she was very smart or very stupid. Going on what he remembered, Marco would've gone for the former. "Given I was unconscious for a great part of it, you'll forgive me if I don't recall. Or buy into anything you have to say, you lying, conniving bitch."
"Then why are you here?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Each word and sentiment filed into her mind and she drew off of past experiences. Smile still in place, she took another step forward, her tone even. "I just have to say the word and you are back under my care. I'm sure you don't want that."
"There's a magic word? I didn't know that. Pity the Salem Witch Trials went out of fashion. Would've liked nothing better than to turn up your heat." And if she ended up roasted dinner by the end, eh, minor perk. He looked her up and down with the interest of someone looking for faults in a prize horse. "You don't scare me. You've got nothing on me. Except... what? Showing up in your parking lot in the middle of the night? Stranger things have happened."
"No, you wouldn't be scared of me." Teja said, her smile broadening even more with certainty. Three feet dwindled down to two and she stopped near the trunk of her car. "But there is a part of you that is scared of me, who has more power over you than you think. It doesn't matter what I may have, and you know it. Isn't that right, 348?"
Something flickered behind his eyes, momentarily throwing him off his game. "348 is unavailable right now," he snorted, hands fisting tightly, knuckles turning jarring white. Someone kept his arms down, kept him from striking - and it's becoming a hell of a lot annoying. Make up your mind, fool.
"Well I have a message for both of you-leave now or you will be dealt with by someone far worse than I ever was." she said, putting her hand into her coat pocket, the panic button to her car and cellphone within reach. "Tell me, 348, does he get a thrill out of wanting to beat women or just the pregnant ones?"
If she thought she was pushing his buttons, well, she'd be right. Genunie panic choked him like a hand around his neck, hard to let go and hard to move past. He flinched. Half of him groaned, the other lunged for her throat. Fortunately for him, it wasn't the dominant half. Not for one long moment. "You know, I can't help feel that the next time I see you, one of us isn't going to live to tell the tale." And either way I win. I mean lose. Lose.
"Then let's hope, for your sake, that we never see each other again." she pushed away from the trunk. "I'll take care of your parole officer about your visit, but you should leave before my husband gets here."
He resisted the urge to hop onto her trunk and stay there just to annoy her. "You're married. Nice. Happy little family happily popping out the next generation of torturers? How quaint. How 1950's America." Land of opportunities, Mom said--
"Go home, 348." she said, firmly. When she got to the condo she'd ask Jasper to gather her things from the car, and to get a restraining order drawn up.
Marco made a face, but, unwillingly, found himself complying. You pussy. You fucking pussy. She's playing you and you're letting her because you're too much of a coward to stand up to some uptight-- Half-way to the exit, he found it in him to add, in a sing-song voice: "Don't forget to lock your doors tonight!"
"I won't!" she sang back, quickly stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to the lobby then the one to forcibly close the door. Jasper and the police could meet her there, the last thing he needed to learn was her actual floor.