(no subject)
Oh now. This is a good one. Usually 494 is like clockwork: 452 expects it and so does Renfro. But today was time to experiment, and like a lot of 494's experiments, it paid off. 452's locked cell is empty when he arrives forty minutes past his usual time. Fantastic. He gets down on his knees, investigates the cinderblocks she's been sawing out of the walls and prods at the loose brick, wondering whether he should see where she's gone off to.
That's not a good idea. It's not like they're bloodhounds, but he doesn't want her getting too suspicious. She still needs to trust him, if not like him. Besides, how is his life made better by actually finding her?
It's almost 2 AM when the bricks in the wall start budging. He listens from his perch on her bunk, legs folded, his bearing calm and attentive. The look on 452's face when she pulls herself out from under the bed and stares at him is worth the long wait. He's even got his line ready.
"Forget we had a date?"
She's suspicious, but she knows he's got power over her he isn't using. No guards are coming; he even holds the bed up while she slides the cinderblocks back in place. 494 doesn't want trouble any more than she does, and her business is her business. She doesn't push her luck; 494 watches her, and prods a little more.
"Why do you want out of here so much? You've got a roof over your head, plenty to eat..." He laughs softly. "Which is more than you can say about most people out there."
She glares up at him as she fixes up her meager sheets. "You think Manticore takes care of you out of the goodness of its heart? It's using you."
494 snorts. "Nobody's using me."
She shakes her head, annoyingly self-assured and infuriatingly self-righteous. "That's what you don't get. You're working for the bad guys."
(It doesn't hit a nerve. 494's lucky to be alive, much less in circulation again. Whatever. Leave to a cut-and-run pain-in-the-neck like her not to get that there are shades of gray out there.)
He sighs, put-upon, and wanders toward the door. "I'm gonna be out of here in five minutes to go back to my cell, and you'll get rid of me for the night. Okay, 452?"
Her lip curls. "My name's Max."
Isn't that cute. He shrugs, way more patient than he should be. "Whatever you say."
She narrows her eyes and hugs her elbows, head tilted. "You should have a name too."
He stops, and folds his arms. "I told you, my designation's 494."
She's got a little smirk going, like she thinks she's so clever she should be on camera. "Doesn't suit you." A meaningful pause. "I'm gonna call you Alec."
One eyebrow arcs up. Really? "Alec?"
She holds her chin high. Maybe this is how she stares down toughs out on the mean streets of Seattle. "As in smart aleck."
Fine. Whatever. He pulls a face and nods. "I can live with that." If this is what he needs to do to get her to trust him, fine. It's just a job, and it's got to be done.
"Good." The corners of her mouth curl. "'Cause my second choice was Dick."
...yeah. He's laughing on the inside.
494 calls the guard and lets himself out. No way she gets the last word, though. He turns, and wags his eyebrows. "See you around... 'Max.'"
Not that he doesn't amply compensate himself on his own time, but they do not pay him enough to put up with the likes of this.
That's not a good idea. It's not like they're bloodhounds, but he doesn't want her getting too suspicious. She still needs to trust him, if not like him. Besides, how is his life made better by actually finding her?
It's almost 2 AM when the bricks in the wall start budging. He listens from his perch on her bunk, legs folded, his bearing calm and attentive. The look on 452's face when she pulls herself out from under the bed and stares at him is worth the long wait. He's even got his line ready.
"Forget we had a date?"
She's suspicious, but she knows he's got power over her he isn't using. No guards are coming; he even holds the bed up while she slides the cinderblocks back in place. 494 doesn't want trouble any more than she does, and her business is her business. She doesn't push her luck; 494 watches her, and prods a little more.
"Why do you want out of here so much? You've got a roof over your head, plenty to eat..." He laughs softly. "Which is more than you can say about most people out there."
She glares up at him as she fixes up her meager sheets. "You think Manticore takes care of you out of the goodness of its heart? It's using you."
494 snorts. "Nobody's using me."
She shakes her head, annoyingly self-assured and infuriatingly self-righteous. "That's what you don't get. You're working for the bad guys."
(It doesn't hit a nerve. 494's lucky to be alive, much less in circulation again. Whatever. Leave to a cut-and-run pain-in-the-neck like her not to get that there are shades of gray out there.)
He sighs, put-upon, and wanders toward the door. "I'm gonna be out of here in five minutes to go back to my cell, and you'll get rid of me for the night. Okay, 452?"
Her lip curls. "My name's Max."
Isn't that cute. He shrugs, way more patient than he should be. "Whatever you say."
She narrows her eyes and hugs her elbows, head tilted. "You should have a name too."
He stops, and folds his arms. "I told you, my designation's 494."
She's got a little smirk going, like she thinks she's so clever she should be on camera. "Doesn't suit you." A meaningful pause. "I'm gonna call you Alec."
One eyebrow arcs up. Really? "Alec?"
She holds her chin high. Maybe this is how she stares down toughs out on the mean streets of Seattle. "As in smart aleck."
Fine. Whatever. He pulls a face and nods. "I can live with that." If this is what he needs to do to get her to trust him, fine. It's just a job, and it's got to be done.
"Good." The corners of her mouth curl. "'Cause my second choice was Dick."
...yeah. He's laughing on the inside.
494 calls the guard and lets himself out. No way she gets the last word, though. He turns, and wags his eyebrows. "See you around... 'Max.'"
Not that he doesn't amply compensate himself on his own time, but they do not pay him enough to put up with the likes of this.