2007-07-17: A Thief, A Cab, And A Stratus


Jane_icon.gif Elle_icon.gif McAlister_icon.gif George_icon.gif Tamara_icon.gif Kitty_icon.gif Felix_icon.gif Aileen_icon.gif

Summary: Several people converge and find themselves dealing with a thief, a cab, a Stratus, and the driver of that Stratus.

Date It Happened: July 17th, 2007

A Thief, A Cab, And A Stratus

Greenwich Village , Manhattan, NYC

Facing west as the hour approaches eight p. m. on this Thursday, the twenty-something brunette musician watches the sun starting to dip below the horizon. She's dressed in a muted orange tank top featuring Aimee Mann from Til Tuesday, dark shorts, and athletic shoes. The guitar case and backpack are over shoulders as usual, and she has another instrument as well. One hand carries the saxophone case and the other that instrument which would go into it.

While Jane surveys the event at hand in the western skies, her thoughts turn to Tamara. A quiet smile forms as she remembers how the girl put her in the same place with the three members of her band. Wondering follows about the possibility that just on being remembered the teen might come her way. She is, while doing this, about two blocks east of the High Rise Apartment Building where she and Elle Bishop share an apartment.

Thankfully, it -is- pretty close to the apartment, and that makes the chances all the higher that the roommates will bump into one another. Which is what happens. Elle is out, walking the New York evening, and spots the musician up there. The orange helps. Blonde turns to intercept, starting across traffic.

"… and that makes no sense, you know? I never wanted to know about anything involving goats, and the jump-rope just makes it worse. Seriously." Ali's walking along the eastbound sidewalk, a path that is taking her and George along the apartment row, the DJ walking recklessly backwards, using her hands to prove whatever point she's proving in that conversation. "It's one thing to call, but wherever the heck these people found a goat in Soho? I don't wanna know."

George is walking forward, facing McAlister and watching over her shoulder. He's used to being the responsible one, which makes for a nice complementary pairing. "Well, it depends what they were doing with the rope. If they just used it as a tether, that's one thing. If—" He shakes his head. "You know what? I don't want to know, either. Lamppost," he adds smoothly, pointing in the direction that Ali needs to dodge to avoid Excedrin Headache #14.

Sorry, Jane - doesn't quite work that way. But sometimes it might as well. Tamara isn't far away, but unlike Elle, her choice is to stay there; she leans against a (different) lamppost, hands folded together. Her hair's a veritable mess, although her face and hands look to have been recently cleaned; the jeans are old but the cream shirt with a floral print is relatively new. The girl looks towards Ali; she looks to Jane; and she looks to Elle. Then she looks away. Lips pressed into a thin line, Tamara hesitates.

Not really knowing where she is going, Kitty is walking down the street and she is tucking her hair behind ear. She is wearing a dark yellow tank top and denim skirt along with some sneakers. Her messenger bag across her shoulder, Kitty tilts her head and looks at Tamara. She hasn't seen her cousin in a while. She also notices Jane and perks up. She waves at the guitarist and hopes she sees her. Now back to saying hello to her cousin. "Hey Tammy," she says as she walks past her cousin and then stands a little bit apart. Giving her space. "Missed ya. You gotta come see Tiger one day," she says softly and tugs at her fingerless gloves. Black and yellow today.

The woman holding the sax doesn't notice her approaching roommate as she surveys the sun and horizon, nor does she spot Ali with George, the neighbor she recently met and spoke with over getting mail. Tamara and Kitty, being by a different lamppost, also escape being observed by her. Jane remains where she stands a few moments longer, then moves toward the wall of the nearest building where she sets down her gear and brings the alto sax to her lips. She's chosen to play right here, inspired perhaps by what she sees. As the sound begins, so does a demonstration that she's picked up the instrument's mechanics quickly and is improvising.

Elle blinks in surprise, as Jane starts playing. So as she gets closer, she starts up a slow clap, grinning as she draws near. "Branching out, are we?" she says, looking to the woman, even while she's playing.

Ali steps to the side - not even missing a beat. This time, the lightpost goes by without causing dramatic levels of damage. "You see what I'm talking about!" She laughs, warm and wry - "I just need to check in - it won't be long. Then? That chili dog you promised. I'm holding you to it." No, she hasn't turned around. Brave soul, there.

Felix is making his way home from lessons…and while it's a pain to lug all this gear around on the subway, it costs a lot less than having a car and trying to find parking anywhere in Manhattan. So there's Felix, schlepping along what looks like a gym bag over one shoulder, though there's a mesh-fronted masked bumping at one end of it, and a longer, somewhat triangular bag over the other shoulder, clanking softly as he trudges. The music makes him stop and look around, as if seeking its source.

George dodges the other direction, clapping a hand against the post and swinging in a quarter-arc and then jogging a couple steps to catch up with Ali. "All right, but I'm holding you to the 'won't be long' part. Don't go window-shopping on me." With a wry grin, he looks around and spots Jane, waving but remaining quiet so as not to interrupt this week's performance.

Tamara rubs a hand over her face; the act shakes a bit of her hair down, so that she winds up looking between her fingers and through a veil of not-very-blonde hair at Kitty. "He was easy to find." Which is to say, she's not really in a hurry to go see the cat. The teen shakes her hair back, tucks her hands into her pockets and steps back away from the lamppost.

Kitty shrugs and nods, "That he was. I've been thinking of moving to Alaska. Random I know. But now I'm starting to second-guess that thought. I don't think I could leave you and Marcus here and not expect the two of you to get into some kind of trouble," she teases and she runs a hand through her hair and shakes it out. "Lot of stuff has been going on Tam. I miss talking to you." She gets this look of sadness in her eyes and she looks down for a moment before looking up again, sadness gone. "Everything will be fine though. I'm going to cook pasta sometime this week, you should drop by for some."

The proximity and the voice draw Jane's attention to her roommate and she nods in her direction to greet her and smiles a bit around the instrument's mouthpiece as an indication that yes, she is branching out, but doesn't pause in her play. The sound is drawing attention from people other than Felix. Although the streets are less crowded than they might be earlier in the day, they're far from deserted. Some of them begin to walk up and drop coins, even bills, into the open sax case by her feet.

But… what none of the people in and approaching the area where she plays may be aware of are a man among the observers with a less than happy motive. He watches the case and the money from time to time.

Also approaching, from perhaps twenty blocks away in each direction, are a cab driver and an inebriated teen in a 2004 Stratus.

Elle leans back, watching the performance, which at the same time also means taking more of a look around her. She notices Ali, and offers a wide-armed wave, trying to catch her attention.

Ali manages to turn, looking back - the sax and George's own attention diverting hers.. and her own grin widens. She returns Elle's wave, altering course to head that way - "Lucky. Don't even have to go up - c'mon. You have got to hear her play - and it'll amuse you while I let them stop worrying."

Felix has paused to listen, and is watching Jane with a faint frown, clearly trying to figure out just where he knows her from. He takes a few paces closer, momentarily oblivious to the flow of foot traffic around him, and then steps out of the way to better listen, before fishing into a pocket and dropping a handful of golden coins into her open case. Just presidential dollars, though.

George looks around, taking a second to mentally translate pronouns. "Yeah? We met once, but no, I haven't heard her perform." Yet. After a little while, he starts tapping a finger more or less in sync with the bass line, and adds a couple of small bills to the growing pile.

"Was it random?" Tamara asks distractedly, seeming more surprised by that statement than by Kitty's potential move. "There was plenty of trouble. But most could be avoided." She smiles crookedly at the young woman, then starts off up the street towards the knot of people around Jane, easily weaving around other pedestrians on the sidewalk. The fingertips of one hand rest against her temple as she walks, but the girl's hesitation seems to have been discarded.

"I guess it wasn't as random," Kitty winks to Tamara, "Yes, I know that trouble can easily be avoided, doesn't stop me from worrying now does it? Look at me I sound like Marcus." She trails after Tamara and smiles as she listens to Jane play. That woman is good. She slips a twenty in the case and falls back to stand next to Tamara. Noticing her rubbing of her temples, "Are you okay?" She brushes her hand against Tamara's arm in comfort.

More people she knows are gathering around. Jane sends a nod to each in turn, while continuing to play. Her eyes settle on Tamara again when she rubs her temples, and her eyes seem to recognize something. Seconds later the improvised tune she was playing shifts into the sax portion of an old Men At Work tune. Who Can It Be Now? It has a good sax line. Her eyes move from person to person, kept mostly on those she knows, and the money in her case continues to grow.

The guy scoping things out with designs to steal becomes more and more interested. He, about thirty-five with blond hair, slight build, average clothing, and a scruffy beard, edges a bit closer.

And in this period of time the cab and inebriated teen driving that Stratus are two blocks closer.

Felix lets the bags he's holding drop to the sidewalk. This is as good a place to rest as any, the music's pleasant, and he's still trying to figure out where in god's name he knows her from, brow furrowed. He's leaning against the brick of the nearby building, as much out of the way as you can be on a New York sidewalk.

Elle tends to think of things more in a "bad guy" sense than most, and she looks over to the guy getting close to the case, and she takes a few steps in that direction herself, coming off her "lazy relaxed" pose.

…..of course, it's hard for Elle to get too far with Ali flinging herself at the woman in a rather exuberant hug, announcing, "Elle! I found a place!" Grinning widely, the woman prattles on, "A roomate, too. Mind you, it's probably pity, but seriously - you have no idea how relieved I am. How have you been? I haven't seen you in weeks it seems like."

You'd think George would spot a thief from a mile away by now, having run across three of them already in as many weeks. But there's just too much else going on. Jane's playing, and Ali is catching up with Elle, and the bouncy writer is streaming consciousness. And so he doesn't twig to what's going down, at least not yet.

The melody shifts, and Tamara's hand falls - but aside from that act, she doesn't seem to take much notice of Jane. A flicker of a smile is given to Kitty, intended to reassure; the girl's attention is elsewhere, however. A glance is given to the street, before Tamara works her way around the gathering, coming to a stop a short distance away from the scruffy-looking guy, closer to Jane than he. Her hands are no longer in her pockets as she offers the complete stranger a bright smile. Followed by cheerful chatter not unlike Ali's, if a bit more choppy in the flow of sentences, more or less centered on the subjects of music and patterns.

The guy working his way towards Jane has Felix's attention, now, and the pensive frown has transmuted into something like a scowl. One hand makes an abortive motion towards something at his belt that simply isn't there….and then he looks embarassed, as well as annoyed.

Seeing the scruffy-looking guy for the first time, Kitty narrows her eyes and looks as Tamara goes to the stranger. She puts her hand on Suzie Q in her bag and walks rather fast to stand right behind Tamara. "Trouble," she mutters to herself and taps her foot. He better think twice before passing with her friends or her favorite little cousin. Suzie Q will bust a- Why is Kitty so violent now? She looks back and sees Ali, and smiles but then turns back to eye the stranger and Tamara. So not going to let anything happen.

The man with the scruffy beard focuses his attention half on Tamara and half on the money he plans to make off with, it becoming more clear what his intentions are in the process. He's clearly distracted and nodding from time to time while she talks. The others now watching him go unspotted as he starts to move, trying to get away from the teen and her cheerful chatter. Sadly for him, this brings him within reach of one electric blonde. Not that the electric blonde much needs to have him in reach.

Meanwhile the cars are down to six blocks away in either direction.

Elle is having a hard time doing much about it, since she just got Ali-pounced. ACK! She returns the hug there, and then looks back to scruffy, then back to Ali. "That's great…where are you at, Ali? And who with?" She's trying to find out, and make it sound casual, while still watching the suspicious guy.

"Over by central park - you should see the place." Nope. That's Ali. Still oblivious. "Vaulted ceilings, three bedrooms - no, I can't afford it, but the chick that owns it isn't making it split halves - it's not like I've got a lot to fill it up with, you know?" The DJ steps back, grinning - "You will not believe the who. Ever seen One Life to Live?" She offers Jane a merry wave - and even reaches out to touch Tamara's shoulder, given the proximity there, greeting friends. Even Kitty gets a merry wink.

You can't arrest someone for just looking suspicious. And the NYPD will have a fit if he tries. Felix is openly watching the scruffy one, though - delberately making no secret of his scrutiny.

The shuffle of Tamara's feet is a clear move to interpose herself between the man and his target - though she's quite careful to leave Elle a clear line of fire. Just in case. Since she doesn't stop talking, it might be assumed the girl just wants (insists upon having) his full attention, even if that means drowning out the music they're both ostensibly here to listen to. Ali's reach, being just a touch, is neither avoided nor responded to; Tamara's busy. The only thing she spares a glance for is the street beside them - and beneath her too-bright demeanor and monologue, the girl tenses.

Kitty smiled and winked back to Ali and also George before giving Elle, a friendly wave even though she doesn't know her. She grips Suzie Q and notices how Tamara is acting. She leans forward a bit and narrows her eyes even more, looking the man up and down. Something is about to go down. Oh yeaaa.

The man, finding Tamara once again in his path, tries to turn back the other way and still keep his attention at least partly on the money he aims to steal. Doing this puts him at risk of bumping into Kitty's hands. His face starts to look a bit panicked, as if he might bolt at any second. This is turning out to be Not Worth It.

While all this is going on, Jane just keeps playing. She notices the people around her and the attention from those recognized, returning it as best she can while busy, but she's also very much in the musical zone.

And the cars are now just two blocks away.

Elle looks over at the guy…and Ali…and dammit. No good chance to intervene without drawing attention. So, the next best thing! She grabs Ali. "C'mon, you have to tell me everything about what's going on." She tugs the other blonde off with her, so they can catch up.

Something about the cars has Felix momentarily distracted. Pattern recognition isn't his trick, not in any preternatural sense. But he looks around, diverted from watching that would-be thief be thwarted.

George continues to hang out and take in the music first, peripheral conversational threads second. On the up side, this means he'll be relatively undistracted when the block counter does finally hit zero.

And then the chatter… stops abruptly midsentence. "You'd better go," the precog informs him, in a far flatter (and quieter) tone. Grabbing Kitty's hand, Tamara charges into the center of the knot, dragging the young woman along behind. She pauses to shove the case towards Felix's wall with a solid kick - the better to remove temptation from under scruffy guy's nose; she's pretty sure Felix will look after it - then continues towards the building side of the sidewalk, tugging at Jane's shirt in passing to suggest she do the same.

It's like they planned it - Felix reacts that smoothly, kicking the case's cover shut gently, and easily, slipping it behind him. He's not armed, not openly, but the narrow eyed look the would-be thief gets should be warning enough.

Kitty winks at the would-be thief as she is dragged along. "I would listen to her." The psychometer looks at Tamara and then Jane, "Heya there Jane. Looks like I've gotta be going!" she yells as she is pulled by her cousin. Her hand lets loose of Suzie Q and she yells out various 'Excuse mes and pardon me' to the crowd.

Surprised and startled by the grabbing of her tank top, Jane stops playing and settles her attention on Tamara. The eyes widen a bit, but she doesn't hesitate. Experience has taught the musician that when the teen suggests something, going along with it is a Very Good Idea. So she's on the move, heading toward whatever spot the girl intends to occupy. She doesn't take time to ask why, being certain she'll see soon enough.

The spotted thief takes on a panicked expression as the strong suggestion is made and starts to move away from the crowd, but in so doing a patch of his bare skin brushes against the same on Kitty's arm.

Down the street, reaching the block they're on, are the two cars. The drunk teen crosses that center line and drifts into the cab's path. Closer and closer they get, apparently headed for a crash in about ten seconds.

Crossing the street a short distance away, Aileen's actually making her way towards a market to pick up a few things before heading back to her place. Her pace is not rushed, just sort of taking things at a relaxed pace.

As their arms touch, giving Kitty the opportunity to use her ability in passing as Tamara pulls her away, she gets a flash of the man bumping into someone else far from this area and lifting out his wallet, then walking away. The sun was out at the time.

George is only just starting to work out the implications of the donation case being moved, when he catches sight of the oncoming DUI. He focuses his attention on the other driver, a hair too late to make any appreciable difference in the matter. Fortunately, he's not the only watchful pair of eyes in play…

The drunk teen driving a Stratus is in the lane closest to the people Tamara urged to move, but also partly into the other lane and headed for that cab. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight…

The sax case and all the money are momentarily forgotten. As is Felix's gear - there's a clatter of the bag of blades hitting the pavement, as he takes a few paces to the edge of the street and throws up his hands reflexively, turning away his face as if he were out among the traffic. There's a screech of rubber on asphalt, and then somehow the Stratus has skimmed by the cab and begun slowing, as if it'd blown a tire.

In short order, Tamara drops Kitty's hand and lifts her own to the sides of her head. As the various Evolved make their contributions to current events, the possible outcomes are tossed up and spun around into a different configuration. Not exactly helpful to the teen. But in the shadow of a building, she's pretty sure she's safe, along with the others who followed her lead. Pretty sure. So she stays there, turning back towards the street, still watching out despite the strain of it.

"Hey George! Get that guy right there, he is gonna steal someone's wallet!" she yells and looks at George pleading. She turns back to Tamara and Jane and gasps, "Oh shit!" as she sees he drunk teen getting ready to plow into the cab. Then the car moves out of the way. But that couldn't have been natural. Could it? She touches Tamara's back, "Tammy are you okay?" She looks concerned and looks behind her a few times.

While Aileen was out for an ordinary walk, the chaos occurring definitely catches her attention. Hearing the sounds of the car and the shouting, Aileen jogs to get a closer look.

The Stratus, diverted by Felix, does indeed slow. The swerve he was about to attempt which would have sent him over the curb and toward the places where people had been standing becomes unnecessary, and thus the oversteer is also prevented. When the car stops, the driver gets out and staggers a few steps away, leaving the engine running. "Dude," he comments to no one in particular with slurred speech, "that was so totally close! It was like the car started driving itself."

Unfortunately, he's staggering into the path of traffiic coming the other way. Half a block distant there's a young woman driving a small Honda who's now headed right for him. This one is about three seconds from disaster. There's a screech as she slams on the brakes and tries to stop in time. And it's happening right in front of Aileen.

Jane, meanwhile, glances from one to the other person nearest her, those being Tamara and the one she dubbed Cat. "Holy crap," she breathes out. "What the hell just happened?"

Okay. Whew! One crash averted, and whether he had a hand in it or not is the least of his worries right now. With Felix otherwise tied up, and relying on (1) greater numbers and (2) some good old-fashioned bluffing, George begins to power-walk toward the would-be wallet thief. "Look, pal, if you're trying to start something—" Benefit of the doubt there.

That's when the drunk teen starts visibly heading for a Close Encounter of the Japanese Kind. "Huh? Son of a crap—" Another brief mental flicker, but if anything, it's even less helpful than the earlier attempt.

Kitty's concern and Jane's question aren't answered; Tamara's too focused on keeping her focus, and so they slide right past. "Let it go!" she calls out - meant for George, Felix, and Aileen. Not that they're likely to listen. She can but try - and then the girl slumps down to sit unceremoniously on the concrete, hands stll pressed to either side of her head.

This time, Felix isn't so lucky. He makes another of those little abortive gestures, and the Honda also starts up with the squealing of tires. It's a slowed skid, though, not a full stop - Mr. Roller Derby of Destruction isn't entirely on his game, but maybe he can keep the drunken driver from being hit.

Kitty crouches near Tamara and looks concerned, either Tam is a telepath or she is having a shitload of visions. She rubs Tamara's back and looks up at Jane. "I don't know what to do" she yells but knows that over the commotion that George won't hear her. "GEORGE!" she is thinking that if George leaves the thief alone then Tamara will at least not be in pain. She hates to see her cousin in pain.

And while the drunken kid is about to get hit, Aileen isn't about to let him get hit. Reaching out, she tries to pull the drunk back onto the curb and safely out of the way, even if it knocks her over in the process.

Between the actions of Felix, again, and Aileen as well as his own realizing he's about to get hit by a car and just barely managing to change the course of his staggering gait, that drunk teen is only clipped. The vehicle by then is moving at just two miles per hour, and stops completely as the boy cries out in pain and slumps to the pavement. Hands clutch one of his knees. The driver, an apparent nineteen year old redhead, scrambles around toward him. She's frantic about this, and chants "ohmygodohmygodohmygodishealive?" as she stares at him.

Jane, meanwhile, has her attention on Tamara. She's seen the girl do this with her hands before this evening's encounter and thinks she knows mostly what it means. "Relax," she suggests, speaking in a soothing voice. "Just relax."

The thief, thoroughly spooked now, continues making his escape from the area. Being afraid they'll remember his face and report it to the police and not wanting to have evidence on him, the man throws down three wallets he stole earlier and abandons them.

George's attempts to focus on one thing at a time - doomed from the start, anyway - are further broken down when Tamara pipes up. He turns toward her, squinting, but lets it go when Jane moves in to help her calm down. With crash #2 averted, he heads over toward Aileen, close enough to offer help without getting in her way.

The teen half-shies away from Kitty's touch, seeming surprised. Looking at her, blinking, recognition seems to come belatedly. Too-dark eyes flick to Jane as the woman speaks; she begins a reply only to swallow it unsaid in a moment of clarity. Tamara shakes her head, then again, setting splay-fingered hands against the concrete. A few moments later, she moves, abruptly on her feet and out of reach. Turning back, the girl hesitates, but her attention never quite resettles on the pair, only their general vicinity.

"Don't worry, I'm a doctor." Yeah, she's always wanted to say that line. Aileen moves to examine the boy, scanning him over for where exactly the car hit him.

Wow. No wrecks, no death. This is when Felix stumbles back to his gear, slumps against the wall, and sits down, hard. Ah, the joys of reaction.

The young mechanic looks at Tamara and tilts her head, "It's ok hun" Kitty smiles softly at her. She stands next to Jane and looks back to Tamara for a brief moment.

Her eyes rest on the precognitive teen for a moment as she moves away, nothing is said in response to this. Instead her attention travels outward to the stopped Honda with the driver freaking out and the boy sitting on the pavement as Aileen begins to check him out. After some moments of this she's loking toward Tamara again and seeming pensive. Jane's not one to try keeping the girl around, hasn't before and isn't likely to now. When she does speak, addressing her, the words are only two. "Thank you."

The drunken, and now injured, boy smells very much of beer. He's feeling the pain, though some of it is muted by alcohol. "My knee," he replies in a still slurred voice. "Knee hurts." He, six feet tall and athletic in build like a high school football player, is found upon Aileen's examination to most likely have just a sprained knee. Ligaments and tendons seem injured, but the joint isn't out of place and there aren't broken bones. "You doctor?" he asks. The driver whose car clipped him continues watching, starting to chew her fingernails, as sirens start to be heard in the distance. Someone in the area not noticed by anyone else present apparently called 911.

Well, that was certainly a fit of hanging the freak flag out to fly. Which means that it's better to get out now, while the getting is good. Felix is recovered enough to force himself back upright, though he wobbles a little as he picks up the gear bags, and turns again for the subway.

George whistles, eyeing the football player. "Could've been worse— your knee could be broken. Hell, another split second and your neck could be broken." He looks again to Aileen, but as she evidently has the patient well in hand (and the cavalry is on its way), he hangs back and turns his attention to Tamara instead. "Are you okay?" he asks. "Sounded pretty worked up there for a minute."

Well, the injury isn't nearly as bad as Aileen had feared, but she nods back to the drunk boy. "That's right, I'm a doctor. Everything's going to be alright. You aren't badly hurt, but you aren't going to want to move til the amublence gets here. If you're really lucky you'll make a full recovery with no residual damage… that is, if you don't move it right now." She glances up for the ambulences, waiting for them while scanning the rest of the situation. It all seemed a little odd.

Drawing in a deep breath, Tamara closes her eyes, rubbing at them for a moment and then running her hands back through her hair. Letting the breath back out, she gives the three - Jane, Kitty, and George - a somewhat shaky but honest-enough smile. Then she turns around and walks away, moving quickly.

Kitty smiles in Tamara's direction. "My cousin is like me, isn't she?" she asks Jane and looks as Tamara leaves them. She runs a hand through her hair and leans against the wall. "That was some crazy shit. Let's get back to your case full of money" she says and looks at Tamara again.

The boy, diagnosed by Aileen, nods slowly and stays where he is. Not moving. "Okay, doc." The ambulance arrives shortly after him saying that and paramedics begin to do their work. They don't know Aileen is a doctor unless she tells them, so they initially at least ask her to step back. Not long after they start tending the boy, police arrive. Two cars, two pairs of cops, starting to do what they do. Turning off the car the drunk teen drove, interviewing the Honda driver, collecting license and registration data. There will be later, at the hospital, an arrest for DWI and the start to a whole ton of legal hell for the injured one. He'll be lucky to drive again before his twenty-first birthday.

As for Jane, watching Tamara make her departure and being addressed by Kitty with that question, her answer is a question. "Is she?" Her personal ethics code regarding the Evolved comes into play, she won't out Tamara. And she glances at George briefly, not at all certain if it's safe to even discuss such things in his presence.

George is perfectly safe! He's a harmless little fuzzball. More importantly, he's busy talking with one of the cops, confirming the sequence of events as best he can remember, and thus not paying attention to any wink-wink-nudge-nudge on the part of the girls.

Kitty looks to Jane with her head tilted. "Thought so," she says quietly and nods her head. How esle could you explain Tammy's knowing? But she saves it for a later conversation, knowing that Tamara will find Kitty again and they will have a talk. Talk, meaning Kitty will do all the talking and asking and Tamara will just look at her. But Kitty is use to it now.

Stepping back after explaining that she's a doctor and what she's seen of the injury, Aileen glances back around now, rubbing her arms. The boy was alright. Even if things were going to be rough for him for a while.. he was alive, and only injured a little. She rubs her arms, slowly starting to walk off again.

There is a touch of you just asked a question you already know the answer to vibe in Jane's expression after Kitty makes the remark about having thought so, while she says nothing verbally to confirm or deny anything. The subject is to her for discussion between the two directly, unless the person involved presents a danger and won't behave responsibly. She simply begins to collect her gear, pocket the money, and stow the sax. "Good to see you again, Cat. Take care." A quiet smile is shown.

In the process of doing that they do, the police officers eventually find the three wallets that thief abandoned and take custody of them. George's statement is taken during the process, along with contact information.

"Always good to see you Janey. I'll be dropping by soon" she smiles to Jane and tucks her hair behind her ears as she makes off towards home now. Tiger will be waiting.

Once the interviewers move on to the next onlooker, George leans back against the nearest patch of open wall and takes out his cell phone. Boop boop boop. Beat. "Hey, it's me. —Yeah? Okay, that's cool. —Mmm. Oh, you missed a little craziness over here, I'll tell you about it later, okay?" No, he's not going to be the guy who rattles off the story in front of those who already know about it first-hand. "No, nothing bad, just a near miss. —Friday, sure! Till then." Phone is stowed, pocket is checked to make sure his wallet is still where it belongs.

There has been, in all of this, no picking of George's pocket.

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