[RP for David] Guess I need a bodyguard.

[and_twosyllable]

It was what he did when he needed to clear his mind. He cleaned. Ford started with one room in his San Francisco apartment and then moved to the next until by the end of the day his entire loft would be clean. To him it was a productive way to spend a Saturday. He didn't clean for other people, though. It wasn't like he had any guests. He cleaned

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[gen_davideus]

Back in Chicago, David's eyes were focused on the man tied up across the way from him. An hour earlier, the man had been whining about how he had the wrong guy, and that he didn't know what he was doing, but after the reality had set in that David really didn't care, he had clammed up and spent most of the past half hour being rather quiet. Once in a while he would make an attempt to start conversation, but David would just glance over to the sheathed sword that was resting against the chair he was sitting in and raise an eyebrow back at the man. That was usually enough to get him to shut his pie hole.

The man's name was Walter Marcus. Walter had made the stupid decision of coming clean on his various ties to the mafia in the area, and he had both been put in witness protection, as well as having a hit put out on him. Now, he wasn't sure which David was there to service, but the tying him up and sword was starting to make him think the latter. David could see it in his eyes, and while he knew that that was the furthest from the truth, he liked seeing the sniveling little man squirm.

"Why don't you just do it already?" Walter asked, breaking the silence around them. David arched an eyebrow in a silent "What?" and the man rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean -- do what you were paid to do." David opened his mouth and was about to answer that question --

-- when his phone rang. Perfect.

He held up one finger in Walter's direction, before shifting in his seat and glancing at the caller ID. He frowned slightly at the unrecognized number, and shrugged before flipping it open and placing it to his ear.

"Yeah?"

[and_twosyllable]

Ford was hunched over, reading the unfinished E-mail detailing his boring, but wealthy San Francisco exploits. He hovered his mouse over the x at the corner but David Levin picked up - the E-mail was saved, for now.

He realized that he had no real reason to be calling David other then the World War III he witnessed inside his head. Leaning back he answered, hoping that he sounded sincere.

"Hello," Ford finally decided on. "I'm calling regarding David Levin's Private Security," he said into the phone leaning back and forth in his chair. He was about to start to swivel if the guy didn't say something worthwhile. He had become an expert in deception. He found that people didn't always react favorably after being told they might die. The thing was, even if he remotely thought this David Levin guy could handle it Ford had no clue what his vision had meant. Never mind the apocalyptic vibes he was getting. But, for now, he had to come up with a reason for needing a bodyguard.

"I've recently had a run-in with a group of people who have been hired -- most likely anyway, to dispatch me." He used his middle finger to scratch his forehead, hoping his lie was holding up. Never mind the lying - he had to justify the lie and that meant finding a group of people who had it in for him. There weren't many people out there that had it in for Ford, that he knew of anyway. He saved people. That was what he did. People didn't usually put a hit on you after saving them.

Ford stood up, moving over to the window. Maybe with his luck there would be a nondescript black van sitting outside his building. There was a white van that quite possibly was advertising a plumber - or an exterminator and either way it didn't look like he was being stalked.

But, thankfully, should he need it he had an angle. Yeah, he was lying to David. And David would know. He just needed to be face to face with this guy. Then he could decide what to do next. Hell, he hadn't even said his name yet.

[gen_davideus]

David was silent for a good long time. Granted, he had only been in the private security business for a few years, but he knew that generally speaking people didn't usually phrase it with things like "dispatch me." He pushed himself up from his chair and made his way over to the table, where he had left the new laptop one of his partners insisted he buy. He was really a computer guy -- he still advertised in the phone book, for Christ's sake. But he did know the advantage of Google.

"Who am I speaking to?" he asked calmly, not giving away whatever doubts he may have had about what the client was up to. He'd gotten pretty good at lying. You have to be if you're going to lie to gods on a regular basis.

There was something off with this guy. He didn't sound nearly paranoid enough if he thought someone was going to kill him, and David didn't take cases just for the fun of it.

[and_twosyllable]

The plumber/exterminator van drove off and Ford got a good look. What he thought was a clogged pipe was some sort of insect, dead on its back. Rubber, no less. It was confirmed: exterminator. Tilting his head he saw a red jaguar pull up to the building. Maybe his hitmen wanted to travel in style. He was already in too deep, anyway. And he couldn't lie about who he was. Not if he wanted to tell the truth -- eventually, anyway.

"Ford McKenie," he replied, turning around and taking a seat on his window sill.

The jaguar was now gone faster then it had taken to park. Maybe someone had been dropped off. Perhaps his hit man. Or hit woman. It could be a lot less sexist to say the leader of this gang was a woman who had a penchant for handguns and leather. But, the point wasn't to flesh out this band of do- not-gooders. The point was to convince this David Levin guy he needed to meet with Ford. Right away, as soon as possible.

Turning back to the window he saw that the Jaguar was back. Cocking his head he made a face.

It hadn't occurred to him until then but he realized if this guy was half as professional as Ford hoped he was as "private security" that he might google him. He wondered if David could find the article detailing his Senior Year lacrosse season win as captain which mentioned his stay in Norfolk. Taking down his phone from his ear, he rolled the trackball to initiate speakerphone before pulling his chair up to his desk. Instead of x-ing out his E-mail he minimized it, pulling up Safari. He wanted to know just how many sites down his article ended up.

[gen_davideus]

Two seconds later, David was looking at a list of articles, lots of various car ads, a few things tracking back to things of European American descent, but nothing particularly of interest until he landed on on an article involving a lacrosse team from New England. He clicked on it, deciding to speak up so the guy didn't think the call had dropped.

"So, Mr. McKenie -- who do you think is trying to kill you?"

Mr. Marcus had fallen silent, and he had an ear out for anything strange that may be going on, his ears able to pick almost anything out of the urban backdrop of Chicago. Hearing was probably his sharpest sense, and the easiest way for him to sense that something was up, and so far -- nothing.

[and_twosyllable]

Take your pick, he said in his mind. So, he was rich. He couldn't fake rich, that was for sure. He could work that angle. It was becoming more and more apparent that this was going to be quite difficult to hold up. He figured he had nothing to lose in telling the partial truth. Half-truths anyway. How long this "hit on him" was going to hold up he had no idea. It was probably smartest to drop it right then and there.

Especially after his eyes finished scanning the article. All David would have to do is google the Norfolk Treatment Center and he would get an eyeful. Well, Ford really had no choice. He sat back again in his chair, his head ache subsiding.

"I'm going to level with you," Ford replied. His voice had changed completely as well as his inflection. If David had been listening hard enough he would have been able to pick up the fact that Ford's voice sounded different. He sounded like Ford. "It's not so much as a definite group of people as it is a - a company. They haven't made their move yet but they could at any time." He sighed, playing it up but not too much. He exhaled, not even believing that he was about to let this guy he didn't know in on his secret. Never mind the world being aware of it -- it just wasn't something Ford advertised. "I'm psychic," he said, finally. "And I think there could be people after me -- because of my ability."

A company, apparently. Ford had no idea what he was talking about anymore. He hoped he sounded like he did. But in this day and age abilities were out in the open so how he was going to spin this 'I have a company after me' he had no - even now, his thoughts were becoming more and more convoluted.

"I just don't feel safe right now," he said, finally.

[gen_davideus]

David hated psychics.

He really really hated psychics. All things magical and bug-like were pretty much fair game with him, but psychics, in his mind, were the worse. Gross little leeches who more often than not conned people into believing their sad little stories so that they could feel better about themselves and get people to pay them incredible amounts of money and make a living.

However, when a person didn't feel safe it was his job to do the protecting. Whether he liked the guy or not. Take Mr. Marcus, for example. He was not the little weasel's biggest fan at the moment yet he'd managed to make it through their evening together without strangling him to death. It was quite the feat.

He had also heard rumors about a company who was going after powered humans, and he didn't want to be responsible if this guy went missing and he turned his help down.

"Well, that can't be good, Mr. McKenie," he said with a sigh. "How do you think I can be of help?"

[and_twosyllable]

How did he -- Ford sat there, double checking if this was the number for private security and not private dancing or something crazy like that. Sure enough he had dialed the right number. So, he calmed down, picked his phone up and turned off speakerphone.

"With all due respect Mr. Levin, you're business is private security. So, if there were an attempt at kidnapping me or hell, killing me, then I'm pretty sure you'd be of help."

He hadn't tried to use an attitude. This was just getting old and they were getting nowhere. He also didn't want to ask about any wars David had fought in. Not this early in their professional relationship. Honestly, if David the private security fish didn't bite then Ford was going to have to fly to Chicago and meet face to face. Maybe even as someone else. But for now, David hadn't said yes or no. And Ford had no idea what David was doing on his side of the call. They both were pretty distracted, it seemed like, anyway.

Walking into the main part of his apartment and got a good look at how clean everything was. For a second he was proud of himself but only for a second. Cleaning would have to take a backseat to see what was with this vision and how it was connected to David Levin. And if that meant getting a body guard then so be it.

"If it's a question of money," Ford said, sitting on the arm of his couch. "That's not going to be a problem." He needed to make that known. No, he needed to get this guy David to help him, to...guard him so he could save him or see what his deal was.

Really, Ford could deal with either one. But he wasn't letting this guy go. If this didn't work he had several alternative avenues of contact.

[gen_davideus]

"Yes, that may be true Mr. McKenie, but I am only one human being, and I need to know how much this is worth my time." The man was psychic after all. If he could see into the future, what did he need a private security guard for. All he'd have to do would be to have a vision and make like a bat out of hell.

Something else was up, and David didn't like the feel of it.

"It's not an issue of money. It never is. But generally speaking, I help people who really need my help, not people who just thing bodyguards are there to look important. You want my help, you better damn well prove that your life is in danger. Otherwise, we should just part ways here."

[and_twosyllable]

Damn it. Ford stood up and moved over to the other window that overlooked the back of the building. Oh, there was a nondescript white van. He could E-mail David these pictures of a nondescript non-exterminating, non-plumbing van or he could tell David the truth. He knew he might be laughed off the phone or even hung up on - but he really had no choice here. Why would he, Ford, need a bodyguard.

"First, I don't want a bodyguard because I think you'll make me look important." He paused. "I could care less about how I look with or without a bodyguard. It's a matter of me feeling safe. I don't know if you've noticed but something is happening. The world isn't becoming a safer place. And what makes you think I don't really need your help, Mr. Levin?"

Fuck.

Fine, if Ford had to he'd go the extra mile. A man's life was at stake and he couldn't admit something like that over the phone. Not when he had the capacity to hang up on Ford. Scrolling back to speaker phone he made his way to his office, pulling out his camera. He returned to the living room, taking pictures of that white nondescript van. He had to get David to at least meet with him. Then maybe he could tell him the truth. Ask about impending wars - or past wars. It wasn't as if he hadn't encountered immortals before but why would he have a vision of a past event.

"Look, do you have E-mail? Or a place to meet you...I'm serious about wanting a bodyguard and I'm thinking that should be enough."

It better have been. Ford couldn't do this much longer and he could tell David was losing interest. What the hell was happening on his end of the phone conversation, anyway?

[gen_davideus]

He really should have become a bounty hunter. Then he could beat the shit out of guys who actually deserved it, instead of dealing with people who felt they were entitled to security, just because they didn't feel safe.

"Well, you said it yourself, Mr. McKenie -- the world's not a safe place. But some people have it a bit worse off than you, so excuse me if I don't exactly leap at the chance of being your hired muscle. I'm sure there are plenty of firms you can call, since money doesn't seem to be any object who will be more than happy to just take your business, while I stick with people who really do need my help."

He paused slightly, before rolling his eyes slightly and closing the computer. "I'm in Chicago. If you're that serious, hop on a plane and fly my way, otherwise -- I think we're done."

[and_twosyllable]

"Look, I need you," he said. "Or...you need me - maybe," Ford added, shaking his head.

He dropped the phone from his ear and growled at nobody in particular before moving it back to speakerphone. It was time to come clean. If he didn't hear him over the phone well then Ford would fly to Chicago. Because that's what he did. He saved the reluctant, he saved the bastards, the losers, the assholes he had visions of. If only he knew what this damn vision meant.

"I called you not because I want a bodyguard." Because face it, Ford could take care of himself. "I called because I had a vision -- of you -- fighting."

So, there it was. His full name, his ability, and the real reason why he called. Was he getting soft in his young age? Because he was normally such a business man. He was the used car salesman of psychics. People trusted him, they believed him. Here David was not believing him and getting angry with him and -- Ford couldn't do anything about it besides tell him the truth.

It was out in the open. And Ford was now on his couch, hands over his face, breaking the one rule he tried not to break. And he had no idea how David was going to react or if he was really going to fly out and check on David - become David's bodyguard. Nothing was a sure thing and he missed the memo when he would be getting incoherent visions. This one didn't even look amazingly modern. David had been using a damn sword.

"Are you an immortal," he asked, simply. "Because whatever I saw you doing, you were doing it with a sword and there were a lot of people around you." He sighed. "I'm just trying to figure out why I had this vision - of you, David."

[gen_davideus]

David set his teeth slightly, and pinched his eyes closed. He froze for a second and held up his finger, before speaking slowly.

"Excuse me for one second."

He placed the phone down on the table, before stalking off into a dark corner of the room and letting off a litany of swears that would make George Carlin blush. He paced back and forth, muttering under his breath as he tried to get the information to process. This was just what he needed. Some half-assed psychic having "visions of him fighting." Fighting what, he didn't know, and he didn't really fucking care at the moment, but it was striking a little too close to the vest for his comfort. He paced for a second before realization hit him. Christopher. Christopher the maniacal, drunk two-faced bastard who was probably getting a kick out of pissing David off this much and loving it.

He stalked his way back to the phone, putting it to his ear and growling, not even bothering to hide his anger. "Did Hitchcock put you up to this?"

[and_twosyllable]

"Who the hell is Hitchcock?"

Honestly, Ford wanted to know. Because he sure as hell wasn't Hitchcock and other then the famous filmmaker he had no idea who David meant. Never mind the thinly veiled profanities he had heard from the other line.

"I don't know a Hitchcock," Ford said, moving back into his office. "What I do know is I saw you fighting in a war and I would love to know if this was World War III or even perhaps World War II. I've seen things from both the future and the past and I'm just trying to make sense of this, just like you."

He was getting frustrated. He wanted to help David. He really did. But he didn't know what to do. He had told David a lie. And then sugar-coated that lie before telling partial truths and finally the whole truth and for what, for David to accuse him of throwing some sort of prank.

"Look, this isn't a prank or a crank call. This involves your life. Don't you care about your life? Because I sure do -" That sounded very - awkward. "And not because I want to -- no, because I have to. So consider this my letting you know I'm coming to Chicago, man," he finally said.

"For you."

[gen_davideus]

"I don't need protection, alright?" David said with a nod. "I don't know what the hell you saw, or think you saw, or what kind of bullshit you're slinging, but I don't want shit to do with it, alright? In fact, I wouldn't mind dying so much. Would just make everything else easier."

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose slightly, exhaling so that he'd calm down some. He really didn't need this right now. He had a job to do.

"So I guess this is me saying I don't want your help. Come to Chicago if you want, but leave me the hell alone."

[and_twosyllable]

"Maybe you think you can take care of yourself," Ford started. "So do I, I'm pretty independent. Hell, I'm very independent but you have to know there was a reason I saw you," he added.

He moved back to the window, seeing what activity was happening. Seeing if there was a red jaguar or a white nondescript van. Speaking of, he pulled out his camera again and deleted those shots he took before sitting on the sill once again. He was getting nowhere quickly.

On the verge of giving up he sighed, looking up at the ceiling. This wasn't working. And something told Ford if he ended up in Chicago nothing would happen. Maybe this entire phone call was for naught. Ford wasn't one to give up but really, he wasn't helping and David didn't want help.

He was about to call it a day.

"Look, it's your funeral -- or it was," Ford said. "Either way, I tried - and that's all I can do without your cooperation."

Yeah, he was done.