Attracting Trouble, with lastseendead and random_xtras

[in_the_cracks]

‘ Richard’ obviously did know what he was doing. In short order he’d led them to what Telrim supposed was a sufficiently disreputable bar for his liking.

She isn’t sure how many drinks she’s paid for by now or who exactly drank them, but it’s all in the name of intel.

Speaking of which…

She leans one elbow on the bar and fixes him with a direct stare. “Well, are you going to tell me yet?”

Richard looks up from his latest glass with a smug sort of grin, but looks oblivious at her question. “Tell you what?”

She hesitates. Gafrash, what was it again? She squints for a moment, then brightens. “Who you saw getting kidnapped.”

He looks at the drinking glasses, and then back at Telrim. “For this much drink… I’m not sure, now… I could tell you who kidnapped said person.”

Telrim gives the accumulating glasses a look that carefully hides her exasperation - how much will it cost her to get the truly important information? “It’s a start, I suppose. I do need to know whether the rest is worth paying for.” She shifts, sits up more straight on her stool. “All right, then. Who were these Nexus kidnappers?”

“I don’t know,” he replies, quite truthfully. “But they were aliens with four legs, two arms and…” He squints and leans forward on an elbow. “Kinda like a centaur, you know that? Is that what centaurs look like? My oh my…”

She slumps, resting her face in her hand for a moment. “Yes,” she groans softly. “I know what you’re talking about.” She’s silent for a moment, then looks up and waves for another round of drinks. “For the record, centaurs don’t normally have eyestalks.”

“Mm, probably not.” He nods as he thinks about it, frowning slightly. “I don’t think they’re blue and green, either.”

“Only in cartoons,” she says. The drinks arrive, and if the collection of old glasses disappears at the same time, she doesn’t notice quite yet. She stares at the beer - well, it might be beer - she’s supposedly drinking and resists the urge to brood. “You’re in luck,” she observes, before she looks up at Richard. “And as for what they were doing…?”

"What do you know about centaurs? You don't seem the type to know any." He looks her over with mild suspicion, then shrugs. "Your clothing's too modern."

"It's human mythology. I've read about it." She shrugs. "Besides, I know the creatures you're talking about, and I know they're not centaurs. So?"

Richard raises a hand. "Hold on, hold on. If they're not centaurs, then what are they?"

She frowns at him, bemused. "Aliens. Why should it matter to you?"

“Because this could be an act of war." He doesn't sound half drunk as he says that. "I don't know you properly, or them."

She snorts and takes another sip of her beer. "This is the Nexus. No governments involved," she reasons. "What makes you think they'll even find out you said anything?"

“People have ways. There are doors for people to walk through." He clamps a hand over his heart, looking less than sober again. "I could get involved."

She laughs, even though she knows it's not funny. No, really. Her host is slightly drunk, that's all. "Does that worry you?"

Of course that's all, Telrim, of course. "Well, yes. They might interupt... something... 'hem. Important."

He gets a slightly squinty look. The lights are low, and she wants to be sure of reading him right. "Something, hm?"

Richard nods and straightens. "Yes. I'm a very important man, doing very important things."

“Oh, indeed." Telrim looks at the glass in his hand and raises an eyebrow. "Well, I promise you," and give the Yeerk some credit, it sounds absolutely sincere - in fact, it mostly is, "that whatever you tell me, you won't get involved in anything... inconvenient."

"But everything convenient I can get involved in, right?" He only allows a moment to consider before he pats her on the arm and downs his drink. "Brilliant! Let's see your base of operations, as a... token of our good faith."

For a second she's relaxed, lifting her drink for a victory slug- then she's choking on her mouthful of beer. She swallows and clears the splutter from her voice first. "Base of operations? What are you talking about?" she asks, half-laughing to cover her real reaction. Oh Richard, you say the funniest things.

He slams down his glass enthusiastically. "Your planet. The place you're keeping yourself safe, of course."

"What... Earth?" Oh-so-bemused. "You want to see my home?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure that's... wise. Or necessary." She frowns at him.

He grins. "For whom? You? Or me?"

She pulls a face at him. Or her host does. It's the beer. "Anyone. How much good faith do you need to gossip about a kidnapping?"

"It's a kidnapping we're talking about. You can't just gossip about kidnapping centaurs."

"You can here," she rejoins. "Besides, I think we've... established a rapport by now." She looks pointedly towards the glass collection - or rather, she discovers, where it used to be.

"I have to see who I'm giving my info to," he insists. "I have a conscience."

"You're not giving it to a kidnapper. Isn't that enough?"

"No, not really. You have to be careful about these things."

She bites back a sigh, then frowns and checks her watch. "There isn't time to take you on a tour, anyway. I have to get back to work in a few minutes."

"I could come and see your workplace." Richard brightens. "What do you work as?"

"No. No you couldn't," she says firmly. "Besides, all you'd see would be the back offices of a museum. It's very boring. You'll just have to tell me now."

"I don't mind offices and back walls. All the interesting things happen in dull places. What did you say you worked as?"

She grimaces. "I'm a kind of... curator. But I couldn't bring you along if I wanted to. It's a business meeting."

Richard straightens his collar. "I'm a very good business man."

"Oh, sure you are," she says, sounding just a little strained. "But I can't explain that to my... my colleagues, can I? They don't know about the Nexus."

He's not going to give in that easily. "I can fit in fine."

Good!Telrim gives him a Stern Look (TM) and shakes her head. "No. Dapsen, I'm going to be late at this rate..." She slips off her stool and counts out a quick roll of cash to slap onto the bar. She turns to Richard, hand still over the money. "If you won't tell me now, we'll have to settle this later."

"Then you're either going to have to be late, or improvise." Richard smirks, the confidence in his voice attesting to the idea that he's not going to do what she wants.

“I can’t just bring some stranger I met into a restricted area,” Telrim argues, leaving the money and adjusting her jacket. She gives Richard a hard stare, shifting impatiently toward the door. “Don’t you realise how urgent this could be?”

"Hey." The burly, grey-haired guy that she's just run into frowns at her, the scar across one eye puckering slightly. "Watch where you're going."

Telrim jerks back a fraction, her stare swinging toward the stranger in surprise. "Uh... excuse me," she says, frowning up at him for a moment. Then she turns back to Richard, intent on getting him to tell her the facts.

“Whatever," comes the surly rumble in reply, and the stranger pushes past to go further into the bar.

Richard has to wait for the stranger to take a step or two before he's able to properly face Telrim again. "You might need me. What if one of the alien-centaurs are in your restricted area? Or if you have to push past a stranger to get out of this bar?"

She stops eyeballing the stranger at that and blinks at Richard. "What if I do?" she demands, louder out of sheer exasperation. "I think I can handle a couple of centaurs- aliens! Aliens, I mean - even if they do show up. Which they won't."

"Won't we?" asks a second burly stranger, this one much shorter than the first and possessed of black hair that stands up curiously on the sides. Piercing dark eyes study Telrim and the man she's talking to. Behind him, the tall red-haired girl he'd come to get from here frowns over his shoulder.

Richard looks at the stranger. "No, no not you, someone else. Centaurs, would you believe?"

Telrim's frowning at the other two, wondering if she should recognise them. And then Richard pipes up and she stiffens. "What was that about having a conscience?" she hisses to him under her breath, before shrugging at the strangers. "We weren't talking to you, I think."

The stranger's eyes narrow slightly as he listens to both of them. "Centaurs with blue fur? And long tails with blades at the end? Are you talking about Andalites? Oh yes, I believe it." Then he looks to Telrim and smirks slightly as his nose tells him that she is indeed the person he took her for at first glance. "But I'm talking to you, yeerk."

"It's under progress," Richard mutters back at her. Then he glances between the two, looking confused but smirking all the same. "Someone's not telling me something, here..."

Telrim is suddenly made of ice, despite the drink in her and the warm air of the bar. She stares back at the human, expression locked into neutral around a carefully flat stare. "How generous of you, Andalite. Too bad I don't have time for you." She clamps a hand on Richard's elbow and pushes toward the door, no longer caring about being polite.

The girl speaks up then, her expression curious as she looks at Richard. "Did you know she's got a slug in her head?"

Elfangor just blocks their progress, his expression promising him to be in no good mood. "So make it. Or get out of the Nexus."

"Hey!" Yet another beefy guy, this one well over six foot tall, stops just inside the door. "Ironhi.... IRA! This is her!"

"What?" A beer mug is drained hastily, and the guy with the scar's coming back, his face creased into a scowl.

"Really..?" He went to peer into her eyes, but gets distracted by the rising volume. Richard leans back against the bar to observe the gathering group. "You know, discrimination is rude."

"What the-" Her icy mask melts into astonishment at the sudden convergence of strangers. She backs up a step closer to Richard gaze snapping between the four of them and settling on Elfangor. "What are you trying to pull, Andalite?" she snarls, hand dropping to her pocket. Only she doesn't have a PIN, she realises. She's cornered, and alone.

More or less alone. Richard might count for something, if she trusted her luck.

"I think you have the wrong yeerk," Elfanger says to 'Ira' and his friend, his eyes never leaving Telrim. "She doesn't recognize you."

"What?" The big guy looks confused, but Ira growls.

"I'm supposed to trust you?" he says impatiently to Elfangor, then turns back to the woman. "I don't know what the slag a yeerk is, lady. But I think you have some explaining to do."

"No no no," says Aidla. "This is our yeerk. You probably want her alternate."

"Wow, now, hold on." Richard stands tall and steps forward. "Nobody's wanting anyone. Or, at least..." He glances back at her and then at them. "She's certainly not wanting any of you."

"Damn right," the Controller mutters, though she shoots Richard a surprised glance all for his own. "I don't know what you people want," she says coolly, surreptitiously searching for an exit route. "But it's got nothing to do with me. So I - we are leaving." She's going to keep Richard with her.

"Not like that." Elfangor lets the claws out on one hand and bars their way. "You PINpoint out. Now."

"The slagging pit?" Ira stares at those long bone blades, then gives the short guy a look of disbelief.

Richard grins, oh so amused, at Telrim. But he doesn't appreciate having his path blocked quite as much. He flexes his hands and tilts his head at Elfangor challengingly, not phased by the claws. "You want to move, mister."

"You Andalites and your blades." Telrim's eyes are narrowed at Elfangor, mystery strangers forgotten. She's the good twin, without knowing it. That doesn't mean she likes Andalites any better. And it's been a long, very uncomfortable day for her. Her host is shrieking to get out any way, any how. She's confused and nervous and increasingly angry. "You don't command anyone here. Especially not me."

And that sounds better than 'sorry, lost my PINpoint'.

"Oh just whack her." The girl suddenly blurs and shrinks down to a small green creature with a deer-like lower body, a humanoid upper body with four eyes, and a long tail that ends in a wicked blade.

Ira... well, he and his friend are speechless right now. Though he's wondering just what you have to do to be able to transform when you're organic.

Not if Richard whacks Elfangor first! And it has to be said, he has one heck of a good right hook. And he aims to give Elfangor an awful black eye.

Telrim was afraid they'd morph. She's moving the moment Aidla starts to shift, trying to bolt past the stranger closest to the door. Unfortunately, there's a few people in the way...

Elfangor grunts and brings his free hand up to smack Richard upside the head, the colour starting to fade from his eye as soon as the other man's fist has left it. "Aidla, get her!"

"Hey, wait!" Brawl grabs for Telrim at the same time as the little green thing rears and batters at her with cloven fore-hooves.

Telrim throws herself to the side to dodge Brawl, knocking someone out of their chair as she slams into them. She scrambles to her feet, trying to avoid the pursuit.

Richard stumbles back as trying to get out of reach combines with getting hit. But he's grinning when he steadies himself. He'd honestly forgotten how satisfying a fist fight could be. He readies his fists, then and throws another punch.

Aidla is insanely quick on her feet, by the time Telrim is up the little thing is on her, only to yelp mentally and scoot forward as Elfangor ducks under Richard's punch and replies with an uppercut.

The uppercut sends Richard way back, crashing into some poor bystander's table. If you give him a moment, he'll sit up and look for the direction labeled 'revenge'.

Telrim grabs at Aidla, hoping to shove the mini-Andalite away from her and avoid getting lacerated. But it's far too late to avoid a scene. Looks like they're on.