Delilah (deewall) wrote in neogenesisrpg, @ 2009-02-02 00:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | delilah waller, gil hatayama |
Who: Delilah Waller and Gil Hatayama
What Getting hitched and going home.
Where Pairing Office, then Gil's place
When Friday night
Rating PG
Status Complete
Delilah popped gum as she waited. It wasn't the most fitting for a bride, but then she wasn't exactly worrying about her veil and her flower arrangements either. Instead she'd come to meet her intended in a pair of low-cut jeans and a sleeveless tee, the only jewelry on her hands a mood ring she'd bought on the way over. She tossed its twin from hand to hand and swept a glance around the square. He wasn't late yet.
Gil pulled his car up to the parking space reserved for medical professionals and government officials, one of the few perks for working in a high demand position. He stepped out of the car and took off his labcoat, reaching for the navy colored blazer hanging in the backseat. Already dressed in matching slacks, a pressed ivory dress-shirt and a coordinated tie, Gil felt like he was headed to a government sponsored briefing instead of his marriage. Catching sight of Delilah in the distance, he opted against buttoning it closed. Looks like I'm overdressed. He locked his car and walked over to the woman, hooking a thumb in one of his pockets.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."
He cleaned up nice, she caught herself thinking. Not that the scrubs and lab coat look wasn't good on him. On the contrary. This just made him look more like a person than a fixture in a hospital. She hesitated over saying as much to him, once more dwarfed by his height as he stood beside her.
"Not long at all," she smiled, offering him a smile. "I'm..." She flicked her fingers. "Totally zen." She was blue. Blue meant zen. It was childish, sure, but she needed something to fill her time. "Got you one too, here."
Gil couldn't help but grin as the mood ring was handed to him. "You did come prepared, I see." he said, slipping the mood ring onto his pinky, the only finger he could manage to get it on. Looking at the black stone for a moment, he offered his arm. It wasn't a complete scientific accuracy to mood rings, it was some validity to at least gauge body temperatures. "And with this ring...we should get registered."
Delilah chuckled. "I won't do dresses and I won't do flowers, but rings are cool." She took his arm with a shrug. "I feel so short around you. Think we can squeezes a few inches out of you? It'd do wonders for my self-esteem," she added, teasing as she went and tested the limits of what was to be her marriage.
"You're not alone, I can slouch a bit if it makes you feel better." he countered, rolling his shoulders forward and dipped his chin as they walked forward. It was habit he was accustomed to from years around Clara, he found he did it around people shorter than him long after he grew comfortable with his height.
"Aw, no," she grinned, shaking her head. "Sorry. It makes you look unhappy. I'll cope with my inferiority in my own way somehow." Get heels, probably. Or start swimming. That was supposed to add a few inches. She could take hormones but they could prevent pregnancy. Or so she'd heard. "So. Anything I need to know before we tie the knot?"
He straighted his shoulders and turned his attention to the government building ahead. "I work long hours. No health conditions, not a genetic carrier for anything and no history of venereal disease..."
"Ah." Straight-forward, to the point and scarily explicit. Delilah nodded. "I don't work. Well, I do, but from home, I guess. My, uh, brother was autistic. Don't know if that'll carry through my genes or whatever. And I've been treated for Chlamydia twice."
Gil took in that information, nodding. Depending on how severe the infections were before they were treated, it could prove to be a complication later with her fertility. He wasn't about to presume how she received it twice, how long ago or if it was from the same partner or multiple. "When was the last time you were tested?"
"About two months ago or so," she guessed. "I've been careful but if it makes you feel any better, I can get tested again." She didn't like the procedure but she knew the drill and that gave her a measure of comfort. And Gil would be more than justified to ask.
"If you would, if you had it and it was left untreated, it could permanently damage your reproductive system." he said, less concerned about contracting the STD than the possibility of her being infertile. Chlamydia rarely did any harm to men, albeit it the stigma that was attached to getting it.
Delilah faltered as they climbed the steps, catching herself on his arm. "Oh. Well. Shit. That would suck balls." For them both. She wanted a kid and he probably didn't want to be shackled to a wife who couldn't have children. "I'll have to figure that out. We can always get a divorce later, right? I'm pretty sure that would be grounds for one."
"Don't worry, if there are complications, we can handle it." Gil reassured her, patting her hand. He wasn't about to back away from his obligations at the first opportunity given to him, and the nature of his job was making the impossible possible. "I work with the best reproductive endrocrinologist in the city, she'll be able to help if it comes to that."
"Cool" seemed like insufficient as a reply but it was all she had so she stuck with it, lacing their fingers together as they stepped through the sliding doors of their new life. "Next time we pass through we'll be married," she chuckled, bouncing on her feet with childish excitement. "Sorry. I've never done the marriage thing," she explained, reading in big black letters on a white font 'NEW COUPLES - REGISTER HERE' on a panel just in front. "At least they've made it easy on us."
"I've done the marriage thing, back in the old days when they weren't drafted." he grinned as he stepped in the line. While he was understating it, he adding. "They're not that bad."
They weren't easy, either.
"Voluntary or scheduled?" the woman asked, waiting for their response before handing them the proper clipboard.
"Scheduled," Dee picked out of the two, although she had to admit it it sounded like a death toll. A clipboard was thrust at them with express directions to fill it out and then come back with all their details, driver's license or other piece of ID and don't forget to add the address where they would be staying once married.
Dee arched an eyebrow at the last part. "What if we don't know yet?"
"You decide. Anything else?"
"That will be all, thank you." Gil said as he steered Dee away from the registration desk to the waiting room. He picked up a few of the legal pamphlets spread on the coffee table, detailing the obligations of marriage, driving home what a privilege having the serum administered was to married couples. His neighbor called them nothing more than propaganda, and he couldn't fully disagree with them.
Sitting down, he started to fill out his half of the form. "I know we haven't had a chance to talk about living arrangements, but I have a second room in my condo. Do you know where the Pennington is? It's a nice area."
Delilah was more given to pacing than sitting down and filling forms, but if that was what they were supposed to be doing, she'd conform. At least so the boys watching the security cameras wouldn't pin her down for a potential disturbance.
"I have a vague idea," she nodded, crossing her ankles as she studied her ring. "Not sure I want to move there, though. Isn't it, like, very clean and expensive and uptight and shit? Not really my scene."
"Well, the outside is pretty much that, but you can do whatever you want with your unit. I'd never gotten around to customizing my place yet, but you can tear your room apart if you want." he grinned. "I'm pretty much there for the location, it's not really my scene either." He finished his part and passed the clipboard to Delilah. "Tell you what, we can list my address for now, I can give you a tour after this, and if we need to change the address, they have forms for that."
He wasn't putting his foot down, which was nice, and he was giving her the option of tearing her room apart if she wanted to - which was doubly nice. Delilah smiled and took the form to fill out her part. His writing was nice and even. Nothing to do with her own. "We can do that. I'll need to see if it has the right 'vibe'," she told the paper as much as she did him. "What happened to your ex-wife? Should I look forward to finding her dead body in a closet somewhere?"
"Clara?" Gil asked, making a sound that was equal parts an exasperated sigh and a laugh. "She works in the same department as I do, she's the reproductive endocrinologist I was talking about. The divorce was years ago and she was recently remarried. For the most part we have a good working relationship."
Clara. Huh. She was pretty sure she'd met a Clara that night at the bar but her memory was hazy and calling cards got lost all the time. Delilah nodded but didn't press the subject. "Alright. Cool. No skeletons in my closet either." Form filled, she sat up a little straighter, lips pursed. "I'm pretty sure that's right."
"Alright, let's do this." he said, taking the clipboard back to the counter and returned to the waiting room with a number. At least it didn't look too long of a wait. Sitting down, he glanced at the ring on his pinky finger. "Do you think mine's broken? Hasn't changed color."
"I don't know," Delilah confessed, slouching as she took his hand to see the color of the ring. "Black means you're angry. Are you angry? Cause if this is your angry face, it's a little disappointing, I've gotta say."
"Not even close," he laughed, running his free hand through his hair as he wiggled the fingers in Delilah's grasp. "I'm stressed with work, but not enough to be angry about it."
"Then it's broken," she concluded and gave him back his hand. "What's stressful about work? Lot of hormonal women to deal with?" She wasn't trying to minimize the difficulty of his job - she was just attempting to play the part of the concerned wife. Or at least that of the friend.
"Hormonal women I can deal with, but before the serum was in effect, obstetricians were a dying breed. If weren't for those who subspecialized in it or planned to work on solving infertility, there probably would be many inexperienced gynecologists out there." Though, he knew that was the case in many cities across the United States, but he didn't need to tell her that. Nor the issues that had come with him mixing his working life with his private one. One of these days he would learn from his mistakes.
"Ah. Too many patients, too few doctors. That does sound like it could get stressful." And felt a little worrying, because while should couldn't be one of the doctors and help out, she could easily be one of the patients concerned by the shortage in medical care. "Is it true what they say about mothers dying in childbirth in record numbers again?" She wasn't sure if he was a pro-marriage law kind of guy or not, but making reference to that would probably show which camp she stuck closest to. After all, no official media outlet had reported on that piece of news.
"It's true, but not as exaggerated as they have it on Ticky's World." he stated, knowing the political blogs his neighbor contributed like on the back of his hand. It didn't stop him from bringing up the same debates that he did with his friend. Whether he was on the fence or playing devil's advocate, Gil had long forgotten.
"Not all of the causes could be attributed to the accelerated pregnancies caused by the serum or the obstetrician shortages, in multiple cases it was found that the mother would have died even with optimal conditions, and they were in line with the childbirth deaths recorded before natural pregnancies hit a decline."
"Yeah, but come on. Three months is a lot shorter than nine. I don't even want to think about the stretch marks I'll get, let alone anything else..." Like could a baby survive at two months? At six weeks? And when would she have to abort so she wouldn't need an operation?
Delilah picked at her nails. "You read that shit, though? Didn't peg you for the kind."
"I've been helping women from conception to delivery since they started this program. What I tell new mothers is to be well prepared and learn up on all the information out there. There are some complications that come with the acceleration, but if you're prepared, the pregnancies go smoothly." he said reassuringly, grinning at her comment to the blogs. "If you met my neighbor, you'd change your mind. He's the top contributor to all of those big name politico sites. Provocative stuff."
"Oooh," she chuckled, "Pennigton is home to the intelligentsia, then. Nice. Very Russian Revolution." It was easier to pick on that than the very real, very concerning facts that were to affect her near future. She would become pregnant soon, if all went well, and she would become a mother. It was as scary a thought as it was exciting. She almost told him as much before the number being called on screen matched the one on their ticket. "That's us."
"All of the boring government people live near the lobby and on the top floor. The fun people live in the middle." Gil stood and offered Delilah his hand, putting on a brave face. "Shall we?"
She took his hand and helped herself up, darting a look to his mood ring. Still black. "Yes, let's," she smiled, mirroring his expression. "Now that we're about to do it, I gotta say, it seems a little scary."
"It never gets any less nerve-wrecking." he admitted, following the marked line on the floor. As the stepped in the room with the appointed judge for the first part of their marriage, he leaned over and whispered, for levity, "You have to admit, it's a little exciting."
"That too," she chuckled, not sure why they were whispering like kids in grammar school. She laced their fingers together for good luck and stepped through the door. The process was simple enough, listen, say yes, sign name. It was what came after that was the interesting bit.
"Want to get a complimentary picture to send home to your relatives?" Gil asked, noting the clothes mismatch, though considering his first marriage was a jeans and t-shirt affair, it probably wouldn't raise one eyebrow with his family.
"Hell no," Delilah snorted. And then, because it had been a little too vehement, she added: "By the way my sister wants to meet you. Okay to give her a call later?" It wasn't exactly the truth, but close. "Or maybe even tomorrow... whenever you're free."
"I would like that. You may have to meet my grandmother at some point, she's a character." he said as he walked past the couples waiting in line to get their complimentary pictures, the majority looking like the line-up at a police station. There weren't too many smiles, considering that the voluntary didn't quite outnumber the ones that had to be there, it wasn't surprising. He stopped in front of the last area of the wing, the familiar smell of disinfectant hitting his nostrils.
Delilah grinned. "I don't know... I'm not very good with parents or grandparents. They don't dig the hair." Or the tattoos. Or the loud mouth and the not-so-occasional cussing. In a room full of nurses and hospital beds, she flashed him a smile full of trepidation. "Okay, I'm totally afraid of needles, so this is going to be very shitty. Don't say I didn't warn you."
"Ask for the needleless syringe, I know they have them." he said, squeezing her hand before letting go. Gil passed their marriage certificate to the technician and waived his right to hear about the effects as he sat on one of the beds, taking off his jacket and unrolling his sleeve as his eyes followed Delilah as the tech motioned for her to take the bed next to him. "Dee, have any questions?"
"I get shot, we have sex, I make baby," she surmised. "What's to ask?" Oh sure, there were probably side effects and she was probably going to feel nauseous the minute it was done, but until then, acting brave always made sense. To to the tech, she added: "No needle."
"I'll sign off on it as her physician." Gil said, stretching the truth a little as another nurse was preparing to stick him the old fashioned way. To Dee, he winked. "Might lie back, they say the five minutes after the first injection is the equivalent of a Tilt-o-Whirl at full speed."
The nurse chucked and pushed the needle into his arm. No pain, no gain.
Delilah looked away quickly and obeyed his advice. One perk of having a doctor for a husband was that he knew the ins and outs of these procedures. She could rely on that. But as the nurse turned to her, she closed her eyes anyway and let out a long breath.
There was no needle, but a pressure in her arm and then nothing. She lay back, eyes on the ceiling, for a total of five seconds before sitting up. "Okay, that was a total let down-woah." She had made the mistake of trying to stand and the ground, if it had been under her before, tilted at a perilous angle, all but taking her down with it. She caught herself with one hand on the bed, only barely.
"Told you," Gil uttered, keeping his eyes closed as he hoped the nurses had the sense to help Delilah back to her bed. Even keeping himself still, he could feel the world move beneath him. It wasn't pleasant. "Nurse, do you have promethazine on hand?"
"Purple drank?" Delilah giggled despite herself, glad for the techs that rushed to return her to the bed. "Actually, that would be very awesome right about now. Make that two, nurse." Her fingers made the sign for victory before flopping back down onto the bed. "Oh God, feels like I'm being run over by a truck. Repeatedly. And liveblogging it as I go."
"One dose for her, IM if you have it." Gil sat up in bed experimentally opening his eyes before squeezing them shut again. Too soon. Nonetheless, he took his ID out of his coat pocket and held it out for the tech near him to inspect. They could bill him for the expense later, but he wasn't about to lie in bed all day. "I took some before I came here. It'll help curb nausea."
"Just as long as it doesn't hurt," Delilah muttered into the bed, contemplating lying there until the next day if it'd make it any less unpleasant. "And we have to do this every month, oh my God..."
"It's supposed to get easier each month." Gil said, opening his eyes in time to see the nurse quickly disinfect and push a small needle into Delilah's arm. He hoped she'd feel better soon. "The first is the worst because our bodies are adjusting to it."
"Ow," Dee protested weakly, too far gone to stop the nurse, too despondent to care. "Not that I don't appreciate.... suffering together, but... Why's it shit for you too? Thought... you were married before."
"I was married back when the world was still infertile. There wasn't a serum to take." he explained, pushing himself into a sitting position, the worst bout of dizziness fading. Glancing over to Dee, he stood and gingerly made it to her side. Rummaging through the draw beside her bed, he pulled a cold compress, wrapped it in a thin towel and put it around her neck. He gripped the mattress to stay upright. "Better?"
"No," she answered grudgingly, seeing no reason to lie and no feelings to spare. "But I think the truck is leaving." She didn't bother with the sitting up yet, instead blinked to see him suddenly so close. "You should sit down before you do what I did." One hand patted the mattress weakly. "Come on. Prime bonding opportunity here."
"Commiserating the levels of medically induced vertigo?" Gil said as he sat on the bed next to Dee, laying on his side so that he was facing her. "Yeah, this is extremely romantic. Is the promethazine helping?"
"Yes," she nodded, because it was the answer to both questions and offered him a smirk. "I'll be movable in a second. Wonder if they'll kick us out if we get on with the baby making business on government property."
"They probably would," he laughed, shaking his head. "And the odds of a woman ovulating the same day she was injected with the serum is low, takes about a week or two for...sorry, that's the job talking."
Delilah grinned, leaning her head on her elbow. Making a show of being wide awake and kicking. "Fine. I'll let you buy me dinner first. Or cook me dinner... do you? Cook, I mean."
"I cook a mean paella, as well as a broad range of world cuisine." he grinned back at her. "Mostly Japanese-influenced dishes, but I know my way around a lot of the staples from around here. Especially from the frozen food isle."
"Awesome. I don't do much Japanese. Guess this is a good time to start, huh?" Not that the paella didn't sound attractive either. She realized she was gouging his usefulness in terms of his ability to feed her and shook her head. "Sorry. I think that's my stomach talking. Going from nausea to hunger in under ten minutes, bet they don't say that on the box."
"You'd be surprised what's on the box." Gil sat up and reached for one of the pamphlets sitting on the medical stand. Seeing that the world didn't tilt, he stood and crossed over to his bed for his jacket. He passed the pamphlet to Dee to read over the list of things to expect with the injection. "I should probably see about food."
"What? And leave me here all alone?" Delilah leafed through the pamphlets with one hand, her gaze more focused on her new husband than on the paper. "At least take me to the family cave before you go out to slaughter wildlife."
He smirked as he slipped his jacket back on, his left upper arm tender from the injection. Gil turned and held out his arm. "Do I look like a caveman? I thought they were shorter."
"You're a mutant caveman," Delilah retorted, taking his hand and dragging herself from the bed. Her arm hurt from the injection and her legs were still wobbly, but she was better. Baby steps. "Here's hoping you have tall ceilings."
"Trust me, all vaulted." he teased back, placing a steadying hold around her shoulders. "You'll probably feel better after you eat."
Delilah nodded absently and let him steer her out of the building. She wasn't sure where they were going but part of the whole marriage deal was having to trust someone, right? She could do that.
Gil lead Delilah to his car, the same '93 Buick he purchased back in high school. He never had a chance to buy something new or fancy, but he'd yet to have trouble with the one he had. "If you're too starved, we could pick up a snack from a drive thru somewhere."
A drive thru sounds good," Dee sighed, leaning against the open car door. "Nice ride." She wasn't being sarcastic. "You're okay to drive, yeah? Not too... loopy in the head?"
"The cassette deck still works, there's some tapes in the glove compartment." he grinned, settling into the driver's seat. "I'm in good shape to drive. Driving on sleep deprivation is worse."
"Ah and you do much of that?" she asked with a cringe as she tugged the door shut. "You do, right? With your schedule?" She wasn't exactly torn up about it. If he was going to be busy, it meant she wouldn't have to alter her life to suit him.
"More than I probably should, but I try to sleep an hour or so before I try to make it home." Gil pulled out of the parking space and started to drive towards the street where he recalled a long strip of fast food chains were. She could have her pick. "I'm hoping things will settle down and I won't have to work this schedule much longer, but who knows."
She flashed him a smile as if to say it was his call, that it was fine by her. His life. She settled into the seat as he pulled out into the street.
They picked up dinner at a McD and she spared a thought for Jez working somewhere behind the counter at another outlet in the city.
"You can start eating now, I'm not paranoid about crumbs." Gil said as he took the highway exit to get to the other side of downtown. "I know how unappetizing cold fries are."
"Thanks," she smiled, picking out the fries from the rest and holding out the baggie so he could have some too. Sharing was caring and all that. "So I think this is gonna work out."
"Why do you think so?" he asked, reaching over for a few fries as he kept his eyes glued to the road. He hadn't given much thought on whether or not they'd work, there didn't seem to be any other option beyond failure. Gil wasn't ready to consider another divorce, not if he could help it.
"I don't know," she answered, shrugging slightly as she munched on fries and watched the streetlights change color. "Just a feeling. I'm getting a... good vibe, you know? I'm being optimistic."
Good vibes are good," he said, taking the ramp that lead to the closest street to his condo. She was vibrant and attractive in a unconventional way, at the least Gil could expect his life would be interesting from now on. When he reached a red light he stuck out his pinky to let the light of a nearby streetlamp reflect on it. "And look, it's changed color. What's green say?"
"That's the heart chakra," Delilah explained with a smirk. "It means love. You love me. Aw, that's so sweet," she teased in that obnoxious way she had that still pissed off her sister. "Told you I was getting good vibes. Mine is..." She brought her hand closer to the dashboard. "Mine's white."
"I severely question this mood ring chart if that's the case," Gil teased, raising an eyebrow as he led the car into a left turn. "And what's white stand for?"
"That I'm frustrated," Dee replied, swallowing back a grin. "You're right. Totally unreliable." She stuffed another fry into her mouth.
"Unreliable, but fun." he concluded, turning into the parking garage and waving to the security guard. It was actually being manned for once. The man waved Gil by and the gate in front of them lifted.
"Nice," Dee grinned. "What's the guard for if you have a gate?" Her building had neither. One would've been a start. Two seemed overkill.
"I never got it, maybe he's there for an extra measure of security. Or at least appear to be. Most of the time, the security box is empty and you lift the gate with a key card." Gil parked his car in his parking space and killed the engine.
"Maybe there's a summit meeting of the government people on the top floor," she suggested half heartedly, picking up the takeaway as the car came to a stop and she stepped out.
"If there is, you can expect a free buffet on the roof." he grinned as he stepped out of the car and walked to the elevator with his new wife at his side. It hadn't completely registered to him yet that he was actually married. Inside the elevator carriage, he pushed the button to the twentieth floor.
Under the light of the elevator, she examined the color of her mood ring one last time. "Blue. I'm getting better." She didn't bother watching the numbers change or pointing out that the music was a complete cliché. There was no point.
"In this light my ring looks more blue, don't you think?" he said, holding out his hand as the elevator door opened. His smile faltered as the door opened completely, the carpet in front of the door was covered in discarded paper and dust particles from drywall. "What the-"
Delilah's attention traveled from his ring to the floor and up into the hallway. She hesitated to step foot outside. "Oh wow... think the government officials go into a scuffle?"
"There aren't any on this floor," Gil said as he stepped out of the elevator, following the debris to the gaping hole that used to be his neighbor's front door.
"Hoffman?" he shouted as he stepped into the apartment, stepping over upended furniture to look into the bedrooms down the hallway. "Dan?"
Delilah lingered in the hallway, trailing behind him like a lost puppy and damn but she hated that analogy. "Friend of yours?" she called after him, darting a look into what seemed like it had been a pretty cool dig only a few hours earlier.
And then, as an afterthought, she reached for her cell. "Do I need to call 911?"
"Shit," Gil punched the doorframe and turned back into the living room. He was about to agree but he realized with trepidation that 911 wouldn't bother. "Don't bother. I need to make some calls."
He made a sweep of the opposite side of the unit before briskly stepping out of the hallway to his own condo, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing the number downstairs. "This is Hatayama in unit 20-02, I need to know what the fuck happened up here and I need know where Daniel Hoffman is...well then you're going to have to tell me where I'm going to find someone who knows, aren't you?"
Delilah flattened her back to the wall as he passed her, lost between confusion and mild trepidation. She wanted to crack a joke about wild parties but figured it would earn her a glare at the very least. Gil was taller and he was pissed off. Not a good combo.
She trailed him into the apartment, setting the take-away back on the nearest flat surface and folding her arms over her chest. Counted to ten. "What the fuck happened over there?"
Gil hung up the phone and started dialing another number. "Apparently, my neighbor was taken in for suspicion for possible association with the House of Spades. Why they went through all of this for 'merely questioning' is-" he held up his hand as a voice picked up on the line. "Hello, yes. This is Gilberto R. Hatayama speaking. Could you look into something for me? I'll hold..."
"House of Spades?" she repeated. "Wasn't that on the news a few days ago?" She could remember the broadcast only vaguely. "Something about a glitch...." Somehow, she hadn't figured hackers to be living in glass boxes at high altitude. They didn't hold so well when stones started getting thrown.
"It's not him they want, but he's been running his mouth on the government for years. They're after the hacker in charge of messing up the pairing selection database." he said, covering his hand over the mouthpiece as he waited for the person to come back, walking back and forth in his kitchen. "Cassie? Help me out here...where are they holding him? Is he there? Wait...they took him in too? This is ridic-is he still there?"
Delilah nodded, biting on a fingernail for lack of something useful to say. Dinner seemed out of the question, as did the previously pleasant mood of the night. At a loss for what to do, she toed off her shoes and dropped into an armchair to watch him. And listen in. Wasn't that what good wives did?
Gil wrote down the small amount of information that the telecommunications officer could give to him without getting in trouble before hanging up to make another call. "I'm sorry about this." he whispered as he waited for someone to pick up on the other line.
"Don't be," she assured him, waving a hand absently. "You do what you gotta do." And what he was doing looked important, so she butted out. "Can I have your cheeseburger while you're busy, though? I'm kinda hungry."
"Go ahead." Gil said as he stood when the person at the front desk picked up again. "Now I want to speak to your manager. And while I'm talking to him, I want you to call the police. They forgot a few things."
She picked up the bag, forgetting to be guilty in favor of being curious. If anything, it was beginning to look like the next door debacle had been the usual overkill that you heard about on the news, only it didn't happen with protesters or men in trains in California, but in high rises, in her city. She picked at the wrapping on the cheeseburger and sighed. So much for her first night as a married woman.