2009-10-05: Deluge



Date: October 5th, 2009


Ivory's enthralling ways give him more than he bargained for when it comes to Tracy.


Ivory's Apartment

Washington, D.C.

Dirt. When a man feels dirty, the only thing they can truly do is cleanse themselves. In order to get this done, some men go to Confession Others, like the man known as Ivory Wynn, do something a bit more practical. They take a shower. He's currently doing just that, right about now. Windows, glass, mirrors… the whole nine yards are getting as fogged up as possible, since there's quite the amount of heated water coming from the industrial strength, but cleverly and modernly designed, shower head. The Senator is engrossed in the way the water is smacking against his ironically ebon skin. The troubles from a long day of work just find themselves being washed away…

Water does a lot more than cleanse. The rush and spray of the shower is a first-rate cover-up of sneaky little sounds.

A generic key slides into a lock. Click.

Sleek, pointed toes and high heels of a pair of slick, black pumps step neatly, casually, onto a wooden floor that's just as polished.

Feet step out of the shoes, pressing bare onto the floor.

A zipper slides down the feminine curve of an elegant black dress. It falls and pools past long legs.

Manicured fingers curl around the door. Steam escapes. It's shut purposefully once the bathroom is plus one.

Those long legs stride naturally as can be through the lavish, modern bathroom. The shower's door is oh-so-quietly slid open.

In goes Ivory's uninvited guest. Right into the stream of hot water with him.

"Miss me, Senator?"

Senator Ivory Wynn is having way too much quiet time in his shower at this moment. He doesn't even begin to hear any sounds that may come forth from his apartment. He is, quite clearly, focused on letting the water splash all over his body. His fit body type ends up jumping in surprise when the door to the shower is opened and in comes a most uninvited guest of hotness! "Son of a bitch!" comes out of Ivory's mouth before he even realizes that he's let out such a horrible phrase. He frowns in the next moment, pressing himself back against the wall and away from the Shower Intruder. He's sort of speechless for the moment, as he's too busy trying to come to terms with what just happened. to actually offer any semblance of an answer. Eyes are wide.

The suddenly very up close and personal Tracy Strauss has a strange lack of qualms about her trespassing. She meets Ivory's wide-eyed gaze with wonderment, but even that is short-lived. There's a determination behind those cool eyes and sultry smile. Poise casual, composed (even naked), she's here as if she's always here — as if it's the most expected thing in the world for her to invade a shower in a residence that isn't even hers. It should at least be a lovely surprise. Right? "Come on, I haven't seen you all day," she says, touching his arm, stepping in close. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"What? Psh." Ivory immediately goes into Male Mode, playing off the surprise that he felt just moments ago and clearing his throat. With a shake of his head, his expression switches to one that's more like a confident bastard that has women climbing into his shower and touching him than a scared man. His heart is probably still pumping though. "Girl, you know you just caught me off guard. Ain't nothin' to it but to do it." And then he's winking, stepping in to be close to the naked blonde that's just taken up residence in his residence, it looks like. "What took you so long?"

"I had work to do. You know, the work you hired me for," Ivory's guest says over the steady noise of the shower that is now soaking her as well. "Politicians to charm to your side. Not that it's a challenge. Everybody loves you." The proximity to Ivory seems to get the better of Tracy, who slides her hands onto his shoulders and, smiling, goes in for some lip-locking in the already steamy shower. After a few, though, her reluctantly head tips down and a more serious voice emerges. "I have to tell you something."

Ivory may have been about to argue with her and her little remarks about work. But that all goes out of the window when there is this whole thing about, well, kissing that comes next. Which, for the record, is keeping him from ranting about whatever it was he was going to rant about. Or defend. Something about his image. "Um. Wow. Okay?" Ivory's a little wobbly in the slick shower because of the hot kisses of steaminess. But he's trying to focus on this new tone that's emerging. "Lay it on me."

One would think that a serious confession would warrant breaking the close contact. Instead, Tracy pushes even closer to Ivory, reaching an arm around him— but, it becomes clear in a moment that she's abruptly turning off the water. The steam immediately starts to thin in the air, but lingers hotly, sweltering. Everything is suddenly quiet.

The allure in Tracy's smile has faded, though it's a battle to become quite so somber given where they are. Still, despite what it looks like (her even being here), Tracy is strong-willed. She came here tonight to do two things. One of them is the Senator. The other…

She looks at Ivory, on the edge of speaking. In the end, no words are really going to cut it. She slowly, but decisively, splays her right hand on the wall of the shower just above the Senator's shoulder. She stares it down, focused. The steam disappears around the woman's hand; in fact, the copious moisture on the wall starts to freeze over, turning into a layer of frost that spreads all the way up and down the glass, sneaking into the top corner, inching toward she and Ivory. The previously sauna-like air turns chokingly cold in the closed-in space in a matter of seconds.

Tracy watches Ivory's reaction, dead serious.

Senator Wynn is not moving. Not at all. Not while he's doing what he's doing right now. And that's trying not to find himself more and more scared of the fact that the water has just been turned off. That can't mean anything good is about to come of this. Most shower sex is done because of the water. When there's a lack of it, it kind of makes other thoughts come to mind.

Brain Freeze. No more thoughts are coming to the mind of Ivory Wynn. Not at this moment. Not while his eyes are getting wider with each passing second of frost coating his shower glass. There's hardly any time to really do much of anything else but gawk, slightly, at what's happening. When he can no longer feel the heat of the shower, there's a cough and he peers at Tracy like she's grown some more body parts. "You…?" Ivory's trying to figure out the words to make this even make sense in his head. But there's not really any chance to figure out what to say. Not while there's ice around him. "I…"

Senator Ivory Wynn is speechless.

"… Cool."

Kind of.

The frost creeping toward Ivory makes a sharp SNAP as the glass freezes. It doesn't crack, but Tracy moves her hand before it does, or worse, shatters over both off them. Her handprint is left on the wall, transparent as the clearest glass. The hand capable of turning a sauna into the dead of winter was, in fact, warm.

Tracy has been building up this confession for as long as she's been building up the confession that the accountant is dead. As such, her gaze is as frozen as the glass, unwavering on Ivory to witness his every reaction. "Have you ever seen anything like that before?" She opens the shower door, grabs a spare white towel to wrap around herself and steps out into the warmer part of the room. "…When you said you could help me, I started thinking…"

"I can. I will." Ivory doesn't miss a beat. While he wants to stay in the shower and investigate the frostiness, it's frickin' cold up in that piece. So he too is hop-ping out and snatching up a towel that's followed by a bathrobe marked with 'Wynn' in delicious scripture on it. As he ties the robe around himself, he just kind of looks from the shower to the Tracy and then back again. "That's amazing. I never would've guessed." Ivory's going to have to play this thing cool, since he doesn't particularly have access to the Hunters right now. He's in his own home and no way of defending himself against the terrorist he's unknowingly hired. Gulp. "Just… what exactly do you want me to do? Do you want it gone? Or… something else?"

"Someone did this to me," Tracy explains as she once again faces Ivory, towel neatly in place. Bitter emotion rises up in her voice. Shaking her head, she runs a hand over slicked-back hair that seems a darker blonde now that it's soaking wet. "I didn't want it," she contends, "I didn't ask for it. I was nothing but an experiment. And— I'm not the only one! This power I have — freezing … things— " And people. "It's dangerous. I've hurt someone!" If only she knew the Senator's line of thought on the matter. "But you— you can help me find a way to get rid of it. People have to know. We can get the Justice Department involved— "

Ivory is over to Tracy in a matter of seconds. He can tell she's about to go frantic. And that's probably not something she needs to do when she can freeze everything in the room and make them all dead. Or him dead. Or something. "Shhhhh. Babe. Relax. Okay? Just calm down." Both hands go out, almost reluctant to touch her shoulders, before he just lets his fingers fall towards them. Show no fear. Nothing has changed, Ivory. Not a thing. "You trusted me with the other thing, now trust me with this. I promise I'll make all the necessary arrangements. I'll get you fixed up." Pause. Blink. Headtilt. "… Hurt someone?" Oh, Ivory. A bit slow on the uptake. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with… the other issue, would it?"

No, Tracy getting worked up definitely does not lead to good things. However, Ivory seems to be safe. Her skin isn't even cold, even if the anger in her eyes is. It starts to soften at his reassurances — or possibly his touch or the fact that he's not running away. Nevertheless, as she locks eyes with Ivory, her retort is nothing short of a snap. "What do you think?"

Ivory rolls his eyes for the quick moment, before realizing what a stupid question that was. "Okay. Look. Let's just forget about all this for now, okay? You're here, I'm here, we've both got two young and able bodies." Ivory flashes a bit of a smirk, since he's just wanting the scary to stop. Now. "When I get the office tomorrow, I'll make some calls. We'll get this problem solved as soon as possible." His fingers squeeze onto Tracy's shoulders, just to make sure she remains as calm as she can be for being a freak of nature.

Comforted or no, Tracy always needs an answer. Ivory isn't always straight with giving them, but she needs to know: "How?" Quick to question, she critically searches out Ivory's gaze even as she grabs onto his forearms with her freak-of-nature (or in this case, freak of science) hands. "Who are you gonna call, Ivory? I need to be in on this. This is my life we're talking about."

Ugh. Women. They have to be so controlling. Especially women with powers that they don't know how to control or whatever. "I've heard of some others with your same… ailment. I'm going to put in a call to some of my classified contacts to see if there's anything they can tell me about curing it. I know people, Tracy. I need you to trust me. When I get the right person on board, we'll tackle this together. I promise. You won't be left out in the cold." Smirk. See? A joke? Lighten up!

And that seems to work. For now, it's enough. "The doctor who did this to me is named Zimmerman. Dr. Zimmerman," Tracy says with her quiet resolve. It has to help, knowing the name of the scientist responsible. She closes the paltry distance between she and Ivory and leans against him, head turned to the side against his shoulder for solace. Tender, for the ice queen. She wraps a hand over his robe-covered bicep.

Tracy could kill him in a matter of seconds. Any time she touches him, he could be frozen as fast as Cairns.

Good thing she has a soft spot for the charming Senator.

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