2009-10-16: Advise Me



Date: October 16th, 2009


Tracy demands more answers from Ivory about the anti-terrorist initiative, and she gets some answers, but the answers — and consequences — are on Ivory's terms.

"Advise Me"

Ivory's Apartment

Washington, D.C.

It's shortly past eight o'clock in the evening by the time Tracy arrives at the home of Ivory Wynn. She's on a mission, tonight, but then… when isn't she? Not having stopped since landing in D.C. again, she comes to the door of the Senator's extravagant apartment, a building that, by now, she knows well. Unless he changed the locks, she could — as Ivory has undoubtedly learned — waltz right in, but she doesn't; in fact, standing in the hall in her slate grey jacket and skirt, she actually hesitates. Considers, long and hard. Ms. Strauss seems to have made up her mind, though, and she knocks softly but succinctly on the door.

Maybe he was doing something that he had no business doing. Or maybe he wasn't. Whatever he's doing, it doesn't seem to matter anymore, because he's headed in the direction of the door. Which is the next reason that he's pulling open the door and leaning against the door frame. "… What's up?" Ivory doesn't look like his normally charming self. He's not asleep, by any stretch of the imagination. He just seems to be quite distracted or something.

The second the door is opened, Tracy is prepared with a hardened gaze for Ivory. It's intense, certainly, but try as she might, it's not one-hundred percent angry, especially once she looks him over; still, it should be more than clear that something is up an she is less than happy about it. "I need to speak to you," she says. Demands. "I need … I need answers, Ivory. I'm getting them from everyone but you. You better have something to tell me." She tries to whisk past him, inside.

"Good to see you, Tracy. I missed you too, Tracy." Ivory just kind of remarks about this to the open door, since Tracy has brushed past him and into his apartment. He continues to stare out into the place where nobody is, before he closes the door behind him and turns back to lean against it. "What exactly is it that you're asking for? Because if this has anything to do with that Halloween that I dressed up at Steve Urkel, all I have to say is that I was nine." Grin.

Off she goes, into the spacious living room. Tracy's fingers criss-cross together in front of her. frustrated, before she turns to face Ivory. She points at him with steepled fingers. …She may have seen those pictures he's talking about, but what Ivory hides in his desk is the least of her concerns at the moment. She definitely isn't returning the grin. "You said… that you would do something. That would help me."

She keeps her distance. She's restless on her feet, watching Ivory, as if it's a struggle not to go straight over to him. "Listen. I have… sources. They're telling me some wild things — at least, I think they're wild! They're saying the government has some top secret program to deal with people with abilities. Treating them like terrorists? I keep saying it's crazy, but you don't tell me anything. Frankly? I'm starting to wonder."

Ivory laughs. He finds that laughter is always the best way to stall. "Listen. I don't know the first thing about everything the government does. I know what my job is and that's to lead this initiative to protect our nation from those that would do it harm. That's it." Ivory shrugs, immediately moving off to the side, so that he can grab himself something alcoholic to drink. Mmmm. "What I can do for you, though, is that I can give the President a call… at home… interrupting whatever he's doing and ask him such a ludicrous question and hope that I don't get fired on the spot." He takes a sip from his Henny and then holds out his hand. "Hand me my phone."

"Ivory." Tracy says tiredly, tilting her head to one side to give him a half-hearted exasperated look. She doesn't hand him his phone, but she does walk closer without it. She already trusts him, but doubt glimmers in her eyes. She wants a reason to trust him more. "So tell me more about this initiative. I've been fielding questions about it for weeks and all I know is what you just said. What does that even mean? I'm not some journalist, Ivory, I'm your advisor." Among other things. "I need more than some political brush-off for an answer." Tracy purses her lips into a near frown, watching Ivory closely, almost hopefully. Her voice, however is level. "What's Alpha Protocol?" She's always been bold.

Buzz Killed. Ivory's drink is dropped back down to the wet bar and the Senator is rolling his eyes. He can't believe he's having to answer to someone that he thought was on his side. But whomever's been telling her stuff needs to be taken out of the picture. "You know what? Fine. You don't have to trust me. I just wanted it noted, on the record, that I have yet to question you about anything except to help you." Ivory's angry levels are rising, before he heads over towards the desk and unlocks one of the drawers. He comes out with a black file folder and throws it on the desk. "There. Alpha Protocol. The not so secret government agency that's being used to neutralize terrorist threats on American soil. Everything you want to know is in that folder." Ivory says, pointing at it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pack. Because when the President finds out that Alpha Protocol is no longer a secret organization, he'll have my head." And Ivory is stomping off towards his bedroom.

Tracy takes the folder, looking surprised that it's even in her hands. As Ivory strides off, she's torn for a moment, but opens the folder to skim its contents. Her brow furrows as she does so, flipping page after page. She follows after Ivory, appearing in the doorway to the bedroom, now closed folder in hand. "…I trust you," she says much more quietly than her previous demands. "You have to understand, I'm just trying to put all of this together. They said… there innocent people… kids." A dull look is shot to the folder and Tracy looks down at the floor.

"It's not a lie. There was a child. She was taken. The moment I found out, I rushed down there myself and took her back home. Personally." Ivory is already going to his closet to grab at his expensive clothes. They're taken down and thrown onto the bed. Where they'll need to be for packing up purposes." Also, the people responsible for that mistake have been fired and will never work at anything higher than Burger King for the rest of their lives." Ivory sounds furious about what happened. Still upset he is. "I don't know where you're getting your information from. I don't even want to know. Asking for your sources would imply that I don't trust you. Which I do." Ivory just shrugs, before he goes to grab his ties. "I just thought you'd have a bit more faith in me than that. After everything I've done for you. Personally." Oooooh.

Everything he's done for her. Like framing an innocent man (alright, not so innocent, but innocent of murder)? Conflicted, Tracy stiffens, her hard gaze shifting away — to anywhere but Ivory, just for a few moments as she collects her thoughts. "You don't have to go." She stalks toward him, reaching out for his arm. "We can fix this. Ivory, look at me," she says with a new form of determination — perhaps her brand of apology. "We can find out who's responsible for leaking false information about a project they shouldn't even have access to, and we can put as stop to them before it ever gets to the White House."

Ivory is still looking away. Looking down at the ties he's thrown onto the bed to match the shirts. He shrugs a little bit. "The White House probably knows already." Ivory sighs, letting his arm be touched by the likes of Tracy. Lucky for her, he's dressed. But right now, he's only worried about his future. "I need you to do something for me. Something I shouldn't ask you to do." Ivory looks over at her, his eyes almost pleading. "I need you to find out who the mole is and…" He frowns, taking his eyes away from hers and looking down at the floor. "They need to be taken care of."

Tracy steps straight in front of Ivory, locking eyes resolutely. Should she be sorry for ever doubting him? Her hand firms up on his arm. "He goes by the name Rebel." Her lips shouldn't start to smile, but they do, a slow, confident twist upward. "And there's others. I know them. I can use them to open doors." She holds up the folder between them. "Now, there's still the question of why some of they have the idea that these people are… special, that they have some kind of powers." It's not doubt in the woman's voice, not now — just a driving force to figure out the details, to know the angles. And find out how to work them. "I will need to know if this file is actually complete."

"That's the latest file I've gotten from the President himself. That's what I've been working from." Ivory remarks, no wavering in his voice at all. He stares right back at Tracy, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek. She's so beautiful when she's getting ready to do what she needs to do to protect her Senator. "I can update you when they update me. All I want is for these rumors to stop. I'm doing everything in my power to protect America from people like that." And a nod is given towards the folder. "But I can't do that if people keep trying to turn America against us." A step closer and his hand refuses to be moved from her face by his own accord. "I can see if we can find out if any of these people have abilities like yours? But I can assure you that it'll be news to me. As far as I know, they're all normal."

"Don't worry, Senator." Tracy sets the Alpha Protocol folder down on the bed beside Ivory's assortment of ties. "I'll help you fix this." It's what she does best. She steps in extra close and smoothes her hands across Ivory's shoulders. She may be entirely too close to the politician to be befitting of her professional role, but advice nevertheless pours out of her mouth with assurance. "In the meantime, you have to get your priorities together before running to the President. If he thinks you have a problem, he might shut you down! You have to stay on top. I'd like to set up a PR plan this week. I think you do have a problem. The public is paranoid. They need someone to blame. You need to find that someone." She slides a pointed glance to the folder on the bed before smiling confidently — and perhaps even a bit cunningly — at Ivory.

Ivory is no longer thinking about whatever it is he's supposed to be thinking about. With Tracy being so close, he's definitely wanting to be with her right now. There's so much going through his mind right now, he's just wanting to let it all go with the Tracy. He sighs a little bit, still showing signs of worry. "Advise me, baby." comes out with a forced smile, since he's not sure how they're going to handle this. "If you can find me someone to pin all this on, I might be willing to discuss a raise." However, from the look in his eyes, it can be quite clear that he's not talking about money.

Oh, Tracy'll find someone. The wheels are already turning in her head. By that sure look in her fierce blue eyes, it might be a fair guess that she already has someone in mind. The smile on her face says it all: she's content with her decision, despite the twisted path she took to make it. Here, with the Senator, it's all so straight-forward. At first, the advisor's only reply is to kiss her boss. Then: "I shouldn't've doubted you."

Ivory smirks, reaching up to touch his lips. Almost like he wasn't sure he just got kissed. Mmmm. "You're right. You shouldn't've." Ivory then kind of drops down to the bed, where he can be a bit more comfortable. He's forgotten about the folder and the ties and the shirts. Or, well, he just doesn't give a crap about them. "Gonna' come apologize?" Rowr.

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