2007-06-24: You'll Be Hearing From Me


Max_icon.gif Jordan_icon.gif

Summary: Jordan bring Max presents and the two get to know each other. Well.

Date It Happened: June 24th, 2007

Log Title You'll Be Hearing From Me

Location Hartsdale, NY - Primatech - Cells

A woman with dark hair walks into the Company cells sipping on a cup of chai with one hand and dragging her nails across the walls with another. "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she says as she blows some of the steam off of her drink. She leans up against the door of the cell, "Now what do we have here?" she asks as if she didn't already have it figured out.

Max has slept very little since he regained consciousness in his cell. He's in the same position he's been holding for much of the time he's spent here. Perched on the edge of his narrow cot, eyes closed, palms resting on his thighs. He takes a slow breath, exhales, and his eyes flicker open. "Maxwell Swan, at your service. And you are?"

Jordan takes another sip before saying, "I know who you are," her turquoise eyes focus in on the Max, "My name is Jordan and you've been a very bad boy, Maxie." She opens up his cell door and steps in, taking a seat next to him and offers him a drink of her chai, "Don't worry, it's one of the only things in here that hasn't been drugged."

Max lifts one heavy eyebrow curiously, then nods. His face has swelled noticeably since his encounter with the guards yesterday evening, so when he accepts the cup, he purses his lips around the rim carefully. After a few small sips, he nods gratefully and passes it back. "Thank you," he murmurs. "It's nice to taste something other than water and prepackaged food. So what brings you to my corner of paradise?"

Jordan smirks a little "I'm just here to check up on you, making sure that you are behaving yourself." She holds up her hand and says, "Go ahead and finish it, you look like you need the pick me up." She sits down on the edge of his bed, crossing one leg over the other and examines the bruises on your body, "You know if you would just cooperate, your pretty face wouldn't go through so much turmoil." She purses her lips slightly as she pulls a notepad out of the inside pocket of her jacket, "You have said a lot of hateful things regarding this company. A lot of threatening and hateful things, would you care to tell me why?"

"Other than the repeated attempts to capture and kill me?" Max queries rhetorically. There's no malice in his tone, though. If anything, his demeanor is friendly. Even playful. He inclines his head and takes the chai back. "If your people would've left me alone, I wouldn't have kept killing them."

Jordan nods, the soft tone in her voice doesn't change, "Where you see capture, I see help, silly boy." She flips through her notepad and stops on a page halfway through it, "The funny thing is in your attempt to take us down, you have become something more sinister," she grins, "You have become a cold blooded killer, now I hope you can see why we can't have you running the streets." She winks at him just as she reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair in a friendly and flirty fashion. She bounces her knee slightly, "If you didn't pose a threat to yourself and others, you wouldn't be locked up in here. But no worries, I'm sure you can be rehabilitated and perhaps you'll wake up and see that this company isn't as evil as you would like to believe it is."

The scar at the corner of Max's mouth twitches as his lips pull into a small, tight smile. His normally icy eyes sparkle merrily as they make contact with Jordan's. "Keep in mind, I wouldn't require rehabilitation had I not been initially provoked. I could blame you, you could blame me right back. We end where we started." The tip of his tongue slips out to trace a slow line along his upper lip. "Now that I'm here, the issue of why becomes a little less important. At the moment, the only person I pose a threat to is you."

Jordan bats her eyes and places her hand to her chest, "Me? Why would you want to hurt lil' ol' me?" she asks with an innocent tone resonating from her voice. She giggles to herself and smiles back at him, "Honey, do I look like I was born yesterday? Don't you think I have done my research?" she asks as she goes over a page in her note book, "Magnetic generation, I don't have any metal on me, as a matter of fact my gun is ceramic and the spiral in the notepad is plastic." She reaches out again and taps him on the nose, "Besides, you don't want to hurt me, that's not how we make friends." She gives him a coy smile as she stands up and looks around his cell, "If you want to relocate out of this cell, you should probably behave and stop making idle threats."

"Who said anything about idle?" If anything, Max is growing bolder and more engaging as they begin to explore the topic of violence. He stands as well, unlimbering his large body and shaking wrinkles from his white t-shirt and trousers. "But you are so very pretty," he purrs. "I'd be willing to come to an agreement. Bring me painkillers, and I'll play nice with you all afternoon."

Jordan reaches into her jacket pocket and produces a small baggy of pills, "That was my original intention," she says as she empties out 7 pills into her hand, "Take these and you'll start to feel better." A rosy tint floods into her pale face as she hears the compliment, then shakes her head, "Flattery will get you everywhere but out of this cell, Maxie."

Max can't help but grin at the sight of beautiful, delicious pills, exposing white, even teeth in an almost predatory fashion. When he takes the tablets from Jordan, he drags his fingernails along her palm slowly, savoring the contact. "Mmm. Your skin is very soft." He turns his head to the side and pops four of the painkillers into his mouth. Rather than gulp them immediately, he crunches down until they're split into small, fast-digesting fragments. The other three pills make their way into his pants' pocket. After he swallows, his gaze flickers back to Jordan. "Thank you for the present." The gratitude is subdued, but genuine.

Jordan shakes her head, "Ah ah ah, take those three as well. There isn't a pill shortage or anything," she says way waggling her finger. Her body shudders a little, it has been a long time since anyone has paid her a compliment about something other than her shooting skills. She leans over and smirks, "If I didn't know any better Mr. Swan, I would say you are flirting with me," she quips, batting her long eyelashes over her haunting blue eyes. "You wouldn't want to get me in trouble would you?" she asks, already having a pretty good idea of the answer.

No pill shortage? Tell that to Mohinder. Max needs no further urging, though. He retrieves the other three pills and tosses them back, swallowing the second dose dry instead of chewing it. Then he steps closer to Jordan, now standing only inches away. He studies each of her features in turn. Eyes. Lips. The curve of her cheekbones. "Absolutely." Not a wildly surprising response. "You look… energetic."

Jordan shakes her head, "No Mr. Swan you are putting me into a position I don't think either one of us would like, I'm not hear for a social call," she says as she scans his body as well. Not bad for a guy who has been beaten recently, "If you don't want to be pumped full of salt pellets," she says opening her jacket and placing her hand on the handle of her pistol, "I would suggest you take three steps back." Even while posing as a menace, she still maintain the flirty tone in her voice, "If you want a chance with me, you'll have to prove you are no longer a threat. And after listening to you for the past year, I don't think that will be a change you can provide over night."

"Pity," Max muses. "The fact that you aren't afraid to shoot me only adds to your appeal." He lingers for a few seconds, but eventually he steps back as requested. After all, he's presently healing from a beating. It's best not to add to that. When he's retaken his perch on the edge of his cot, he crosses his arms over his chest and smiles smugly. "You don't need to be afraid of me. Yet."

"Who says I'm afraid of you?" Jordan asks, keeping her fingers clutched around the handle of her pistol, "I'm just prepared to defend myself." Her demeanor changes slightly as she double checks to make sure that the safety is on, "The way I see it, you should be scared of me, Maxie," this time the tone in her voice is a little more stoic. The sounds of clicking from her heels echo in the small room as she takes a few steps closer to the cot and stands directly in front of you. "I'm not opposed to using force to get what I want and at the moment I want you…" she giggles, "…to prove that you are not a danger to us so that we can let you go and you can return to your life."

Rather than offended or frightened, Max seems intrigued by the prospect. "I hope that's a promise," he rumbles pleasantly. "I would very much like to see what you're capable of." Both his words and his tone are laden with innuendo, and his smile takes on a sly, catlike cast. "But I'm afraid I have little life to return to. A war of attrition with your organization is a very time-consuming endeavor."

Rather than offended or frightened, Max seems intrigued by the prospect. "I hope that's a promise," he rumbles pleasantly. "I would very much like to see what you're capable of." Both his words and his tone are laden with innuendo, and his smile takes on a sly, catlike cast. "But I'm afraid I have little life to return to. A war of attrition with your organization is a very time-consuming endeavor."

Jordan relaxes her hand around her gun, "Well if you must know my ability is only passive, but I am at the top of the list when it comes to Company marksmen," she says. She takes a deep breath and leans up against the cell wall, "You know you don't have to be at war with us, we are only trying to help special people from hurting themselves or being hurt by the public." She stretches her arms out above her head, letting her chest stretch out her blouse before she relaxes, "But people like you just refuse to see it that way."

The out-thrusting of Jordan's torso doesn't go unnoticed by Max. Playfully, he leans forward and snaps his teeth. "Passive?" Idly inquisitive, he very slowly and deliberately reaches out to trail one fingertip along the lapel of Jordan's jacket. It's a flirtatious, playful gesture; one of the few he's made so far that isn't vaugely threatening or worse. He bypasses the issue of the Company entirely, choosing instead to focus on abilities. "That's not a word I expected you to describe yourself with. I'm intrigued. Tell me more."

A broad grin stretches out across her crimson colored lips, showing off her pearly white teeth, "If you must know, I'm clairaudient." She pushes her hair behind her right ear and licks her lips before saying, "That means anything I can hear anything said on this planet. So anytime you think you are just mumbling to yourself, you might not be the only one listening in." She takes a step away from the wall and closer to Max, "And if it weren't for the Company I would still be sitting in an institution being fed drugs for a misdiagnosed case of schizophrenia." She starts to secure her gun back into her holster and nods, "Now I'm not going to have to take this back out, am I?"

"Not unless you want to," Max purrs pleasantly. "Clairaudient. That's fascinating. How does it work? If you want to know what I'm saying, do you just think of me?" His curiosity is one part scientific and one part personal. It must be, because he's retained his grip on her lapel and leaned closer.

Jordan looks down at Max's hands as they tighten around her jacket, "You have three seconds to take your mitts off of me, before I cram your /boys/ up into your stomach," she says maintaining a perky smile. She tugs her lapel out of his hands and answers his question, "I don't need to think about you, I just need to think about keywords and phrases. It's my job to find malcontents like yourself," she says rubbing her finger over the tip of his nose, obviously she feels it's ok to touch just not ok to be touched. "Although I'm pleasantly surprised, the way you carried on I pictured some scuzzy hermit."

There's a careful measuring of elapsed time on Max's mind. One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. He releases Jordan's coat and affects a boyish pout. "You seem determined to ruin my fun. It hardly seems sportsmanlike, seeing as I'm trapped in a cage and you walk free with your gun and your cute little schoolgirl outfit." Clairaudience. That's something Max will remember. Rest assured, he'll be watching what he says very carefully in the future. "Malcontents…" He muses. "I like that. It sounds suitably disturbed, yet dashing. It's certainly more elegant than 'murderers' or 'insane persons.'"

Jordan's pink tongue licks over her dark red lips, she seems to enjoy playing the tease, "Well if we had met under different circumstances I would probably agree that you are dashing," she says as she rubs her hand along the side of Max's head, then grips his hair and starts to tug, "But wanting us exposed and killed is a bit of a turn-off to me." She lets go then gives him a kiss on his cheek, "Do you have any idea what would happen if you brought this company down? Weren't you paying attention to history class? The Spanish Inquisition, the Salem witch trials, hell even the Holocaust, do you see any connections between these atrocities?" she asks, this time her voice get more sullen as if she has heard the screams of these people. "If you weren't so adorable I would have painted the walls with your brains, but my only goal here is to see if I can break you of your nasty little habits." She pulls out a bottle of Percocet and unscrews the cap, "First lets see if we can get you clean and sober," she grins as she empties the contents of the bottle into the toilet and flushes down the pills.

Max watches impassively. Both Jordan's actions and her tiny speech are an exquisitely detailed sort of psychological torture for him. The scar at his mouth twitches again perceptibly and his lips press into a flat, unamused line. "And you call me maladjusted? My, you are bold." A quiet, wry chuckle slips out from between his lips and he shakes his head slowly. There is pity in his eyes. "You've worn out your welcome here, my lady. I suggest you depart."

Jordan shrugs her shoulders, "You'll see, everything we do is in your best interest," she says as she walks past Max and gives him a friendly slap on the butt. "Besides the sooner you are out of here, the sooner you can take me out on a proper date," she grins, buttoning up her jacket. She heads back to the door, "If you ever need someone to listen, just call for me, I'll hear you and don't worry the first couple of days are the worst, but once you get settled and the pills work there way out of your system you'll thank me."

Max chews his bottom lip thoughtfully and his gaze follows Jordan as she heads for the door. "Though your methods leave much to be desired, your intentions seem genuine enough. Thank you for that." He smirks as he resumes his position perched on the edge of his cot, hands on his thighs, eyes closed. "You'll be hearing from me."

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