clayton o'connell & little john (gooddaytodie) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2011-03-05 20:08:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | clay o'connell, wren delfino |
Who: Clay O'Connell and Wren Delfino.
What: Black Ops is recruiting. Or, uh, re-recruiting?
When: Backdated to Friday afternoon.
Where: Benjamin Franklin Elementary in New Orleans.
Warnings: I can't call this one. TBD?
Clay stood outside the school, just a few minutes before the final bell was scheduled to ring. He'd timed it like this on purpose, hoping to catch her here and possibly catch her off guard. He knew and respected Wren Delfino, enough that he was under no illusions about this being easy. As it was he was probably the worst person they could have sent to try to bring her back. Too bad the other options weren't much better. Grace had a day job, Teresa didn't know how to keep a thought in her head without it popping out of her mouth, and it would take C4 to get James in to the field even for something as simple as this. So they were left with him, the most awkward choice possible.
When the bell rang, he stood his ground among the sea of stampeding children. It took him back, briefly, to the times that he went to pick his own kids up from school. Those days were long gone. Now they were out on their own at college. Or trying to be out on their own. He'd gotten a letter from Riley's, explaining that she'd been given the boot. That was something he was going to try to wrap his head around later. For now, he had a job to do.
He knew where he would find her. James could find just about anybody, though asking him to look up this particular person had led to a great deal of personal harrassment. Their information analyst did his job, but no one on their team ever did their job quietly. That was the one good thing about doing this op solo: there was a whole lot less sarcasm floating around. Of course, when he got back there would probably be twice as much, but that was the price you paid. It was either get Wren back, or deal with agents who were green as grass. He liked this option better.
The door to her classroom was open. Even as he took one step inside, a kid brushed past him with a half mumbled 'sorry mister'. For a second, all he did was look. She hadn't changed much in four years, that was for sure. A half grin quirked his lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe casually. "Hey Wren."