2010-07-11: Feisty





Date: July 11, 2010


Jo get's to meet Mark's brother and makes him leave with his tail between his legs… sorta.


Mark's Apartment: New York City

The days following the eclipse Mark Scotts seemed thoughtful, occasionally she could catch him staring out the large pane window of the living room, brows furrowed in thought. At least til she approached him, then that smile of his would fall into place and he'd tell her he was thinking about what they left behind.

Unfortunately, there is no rest for the weary and Mark was pulled away from his R&R to attend a board meeting. There was no doubt he didn't enjoy it. "The worst part of being a Lane." He called it. So freshly shaven, a new set of black rimmed glasses perched upon his nose, and dressed in suit in tie, Marcus Lane put aside his other side and stepped back into the corporate world.

That morning however, he had this determined look about him as he stepped out that door.

Poor Jo.

She's left to her own devices in the large apartment, full of many artifacts and breakables. Things gathered in the explorers travels, all with some meaning, which Mark has probably told the story of. There is no doubt he had traveled to many places.

There is one things to distract her, from how fragile it all is… or even the boredom.

A knock on the door.

What's the rush when there's no where to go? Jo knows she should find a job so after he'd left, she stood (not sat for fear of breaking something) at the kitchen counter and perused the newspaper. She could always go back to the navy, but then she's finished her round of service, right?

Her hair is half pulled up into a lazy ponytail and she's dressed in a large oversized (even for Mark) man's button-up long sleeved shirt that falls mid-thigh. Clicking her highlighter lid on and off she circles a few potentials before her thoughts are interrupted by that knock.

Mark must've forgot something. An easy smile forms on her lips as she plucks her oversized coffee cup from the counter along with her to the door. Upon approach she undoes the locks and opens it, speaking before she examines the figure on the other side, "Missed me too much, huh?"

"Mmm… My brother's taste in woman continues to astound me." The words have a rather slick quality to it, the smile that goes with it the serpentine. It's not Mark who is on the other side of that door, it's Robert Lane. He looks much like the family photo that sits on his desk. His black hair is styled just right, his suit pressed ad perfect, even his shoes are polished bright.

Reaching out, Robert places his hand flat on the door, making it impossible for Jo to shut it. "I came by to bring Marky some figure he needed to look over and what do I find? It's his latest acquisition." There is something in his expression that hints to the fact he know she'd be there.

His head tilts a bit and he lets his gaze travel down. "I personally like the blondes." There is a bite to his words, his gaze goes past her to the apartment beyond, moving to attempt to slip past her. "I'll just leave these here." A thick manila envelope is held up to show he's there for a legitimate reason.

"And you must be Robert," the statement is precise, matter-of-fact, and clinical. "Mark isn't here. You'll have to come back later."

Jo's smile fades quickly as she leans against the door to no avail; it is not going to close. Instead she issues him a serpentine borderline wicked smile of her own, generally reserved for her takes. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest as she 'moves' out of the way to let Robert leave his package behind, her elbow jutting out more than it ought to 'accidentally' catch him in the side.

"You probably like them stupid too," she says with that same slick smile of her own on her face. Men like Robert give rise to her defenses. A glance is given to the envelope, causing Jo to wrinkle her nose. "He's at the office, could've given it to him there."

Slipping past her smoothly, only snag is the elbow he gets as his passes. Robert turns turn and gives he a knowing smile and shakes a finger at her. "Now now… be nice."

He turns his back on her, confident she won't try anything, as he steps further into the the apartment. The is almost a look of disgust as he eyes a mask from some African trip. A finger follows a line of paint before he just shakes his head.

"A miracle really." Robert continues his slow mosey around the apartment, the file tapped against his other hand. "Surviving the plane crash. Managing to live what… almost two months in the forest… and almost burned alive?" He twists to look at her over his shoulder, his expression neutral. "We thought our dear Marky had been lost to us. So happy he's alright."

The smile doesn't reach his eyes at all. "Were you one of the ones he was found with?" He actually manages to make the question sound innocent, moving to lean his elbow on the counter of the breakfast bar, the file tossed down.

"I'm always nice. That's the way people like me are born and bred," she explains almost sweetly, wearing her facade tighter than she has for months.

Her lips purse and her nostrils flare once he's past. Something about him doesn't sit right with her, but then Jo doesn't have a thing for leeches. Closing the door and locking it, she turns on one of her barefeet heels and traipses after him into the kitchen, each step staccato'd, purposeful, and if she were wearing shoes, would be exceedingly echoey.

"I am certain you are. Having a brother restored would be a point of celebration," her tone is flat, but the upward curl of her lips indicates some measure of good will, even if it lacks a genuineness of its own.

"I would hardly say he was found with us. That makes us sound like we were all perfect strangers before coming home." She sips at her black coffee. "But yes, I was a member of his team." Pause. "Am still a member of his team," what she means by that is left to Robert's imagination before she finally asks, "Why?"

"Family business." Is the short answer to her question, he spots the paper a short distance away and leans over to snatch it off the counter. He folds it just so, looking over the circled ads. He looks somewhat impressed, head nodding slowly.

"But I must say… you are a feisty one. He does like them with a bit of attitude." His mouth pulls the side into a crooked grin, his gaze firmly on her again. Like a predator sizing up his prey, Robert is sizing this one up. "Soldier… or just really butch." His brows twitch upward. "Tell me…." There is a pause and his brows furrow, head tilting ever so slightly. "Not sure I got your name?"

Brows lift slightly as if waiting for her to supply it.

"I'm not feisty," Jo replies with a cluck of her tongue before dumping the rest of her coffee down the sink and running the tap to rinse it. "But I do have a brain, and I don't appreciate interruptions before I am ready for them," she glances down at her shirt and shrugs.

"Does that work for you? Insulting women to retrieve a response?" And then wagging a finger of her own she lifts it like she's remembered something. "Ah. Right. You are wealthy. That explains it." Her lips press together into a satisfied smile of her own.

"And, yes. For the record, I am a fighter. Ex Navy SEAL. If I truly didn't want you inside, you wouldn't be here, Mister Lane." She shoots him that same serene, smile. "Lt. Commdr Josephine Scott. You may call me Jo." Her head tilts a little as she considers him.

As Robert pushes himself off the counter and Jo is on him seconds later, she twists him into a distinct Brazilian Ju-Jitsu and Judo compression choke hold. And then she whispers just wickedly into his ear, as she bends his arm upwards, her smile has faded into something between that polite smile and a sneer, "He just likes it rough. And frankly so do I. And I'm sorry but you're not my type, I like my men to be able to give it back to— "

Still holding him there in that position, she tightens her grip a little more, "I've spent my life pursuing a vampire I'm related to— a reaper after my own life." She bends his wrist back just a little for added emphasis, "You can't scare me, so don't try." And in the hold she presses him back towards the door, slowly, surely.

Finally, just shy of the door, she lets him go and tugs on the bottom of her shirt. "Don't trespass next time you venture over and make sure you come when Mark is around." Smile. "Mmm, kay?"

There are times when a man realizes he's possibly bitten off a bit more then he can chew…. This is just such a moment as Robert finds himself in quite a hold. Fear slices through him, knowing he pushed one to many buttons. Teeth grit against the discomfort and pain, even giving a hiss of pain as she bends his hand, forcing him up on his toes. Not much he can do then be directed to the door.

Stumbling forward a step into the door when released, Robert snaps around quickly. The look his gives her could kill, dark eyes stare at her for a long moment. He's not a man who lets woman have the control, but this isn't his to control. He knows this. "Well." His chin lifts a bit, working to regain his composure, even taking a moment to straighten his tie. "Like I said Jo… watch your back."

The threat is clearly there.

He doesn't linger any longer, moving to open the door. He stops for a moment, hand smoothing his tie down, and sends another cold look before slipping out the door.

Outside the door, where she can't see it, Robert's lips slide into a little knowing smile.

"My back doesn't have a target, and believe me, little man, I could kill you with my bare hands if I had the notion," Jo quips before the door is closed behind him. Rolling her eyes she turns around and leans against it, her head gazing up at the ceiling in a contemplative kind of position.

Finally, turning around, she smacks the door lightly, "Ass hole," and retreats back to the kitchen where her newspaper isn't quite as she'd left it earlier. Wrinkling her nose, she plucks it from the counter and then shudders.

"I… need a shower." And so she disappears.

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