2007-08-19: DF: Mac Attack


DFTrina_icon.gif DFMcAlister_icon.gifDFEric_icon.gif

Summary: Just friends being that in the midst of the calm before the storm.

Dark Future Date: August 19th, 2009

Mac Attack

NYC - Saints Super Sekret Headquarters, Common Room

Okay. SOMEBODY's in a Bad Mood. The warning signs are all there.

That's Metallica growling out over the tinny soundsystem just up the hall. There's burned bacon in the trash. Luckily, there's no sense of impending /doom/, but there /are/ a few relics of a 'soothing bath' that may have taken the edge off. Bath salts were used. Bubbles. Candles. It's not a pretty sight.

But right now, Ali's out in the common area, munching on /less/ burned breakfast foods, one foot up on the couch, the other dangling… and scribbling on a yellow pad. The news continues to play - CNN espousing continued Shock and Horror, as they've done for the last day or two - without actually saying anything. Just a low counterpoint to Master of Puppets, really.

Trina is patently oblivious sometimes. Maybe that's why she saunters into the living with nary a clue that McAlister should be on the Must Avoid list. She's dressed in jeans that aren't entirely decimated and a plain black tee-shirt that is conspicuously clean. She took a morning off. She took a morning off and it feels GOOD, darn it. Running around the base in bare feet? That also is awesome.

It's few clueless strides that take her right into the heart of the Fury Fest, and she throws herself onto one of the couches with an absolutely careless quality. Hair is left to flop all over a cushion as her back hits the piece of furniture, legs left to dangle over the arm of it at the knee. "Heya, Ali!" she offers cheerfully, ignoring the news blaring on the television in preference of stretching her arms upwards to cover the entirety of the couch. HERS.

"Hey." It's /not/ unfriendly. Curt, perhaps, the Broadcaster looking up and even offering a smile, wry and lopsided. "Good sleep?" Ah, pleasantries. "I don't suppose Jack's up and around?" Perfectly sweet. Honest. Look at that.

A pause, though, and there's a faintly guilty air around, "You want some coffee?" And she's already setting the pad aside, moving to stand.

"I… I don't know," Trina replies. News. Asking after Jack. This can't be good. WHY DOES EVERYONE FIND HER? JUST BECAUSE SHE IS DATING JACK DEREX DOES NOT MAKE HER AN AUTHORITY ON HIM. Except that it does. And everyone knows it. Which is why everyone who seems to want to find him nowadays seems to make a beeline for her.

Except for Molly Walker, who needs not the invaluable service that Trina provides. But Trina doesn't know about that, so she remains — again — blissfully unaware.

Drawing her arms closer to her, Trina crosses them defensively over her stomach. This isn't going to go well, is it. It never goes well. But let's pretend that it is. Yes, let's. "Uh… coffee would be great."

"Sure." Ali heads for the kitchen, tossing the pad aside. And.. in typical form, she waves a hand over, "And stop it. I'm /not/ gonna be that level of bitch." Wryly, she points out - "I /know/ I'm second line. I'm resolved to it. But I got problems, and - well - he's the Shepherd. How it goes, right?"

She picks out two, nondescript mugs. "Black, right?" She flashes back that faint smile - and yeah, her expression softens. Apparently, right now, she can't stay irritated one way or another. "Where's he keepin' him?" Just conversation.

"It's not that you're second line, Ali. Jack didn't even tell me or Laney until the deal was done." Trina looks very uncomfortable, despite the fact that the DJ is saying all of the right things. She tries to offer a smile back. "Black, yeah." Okay, just keep smiling, Trin'. S'just conversation. She bites her lower lip. "I… I'm not supposed to tell."

"Figured." Ali shrugs, pours coffee. She keeps her eyes on it - "I'm staying home for a bit. Until Jack figures out what he wants me to say, or doesn't. One. There's just no point - Homeland's crawling, you know? Be nothing but 'hide', and people know to do that already. So. You know, if you need a hand or something.." She tries out a smile, sets the carafe aside.

The woman picks up both mugs, and heads back for the common area. "If nothing else I can hand you wrenches and rebuild transmitters, right?"

"I'm sorry," Trina offers lamely, finally sitting up so she can rest half of her face in a calloused hand. She really does feel bad. This is the one part of the whole Chain of Command that never really sat well with her. Who knows what. Who gets to say what and do what. Okay, there's a whole lot about the chain of command that never really jived with her. Unfortunately, it has been deemed something that works. Something that has kept them alive. Something that, thus, must be preserved. "You gonna be on the run tonight?"

"Yeah, unless I get benched for it." Ali holds out the left-hand cup. "in which case, I'll have pizza waiting, or something. Probably or-something - I am apparently not allowed /near/ the ovens. Something about setting fire to some sort of bread, or something. But you didn't hear that from me." Another of those absent shrugs - "Just tell Jack I need to know if he wants anything special, you know? And that's enough."

She does perch on the chair of the sofa, however. "Cass and Lach holding up? I haven't had any chance at all to talk to 'em, after everything.""

Gratefully taking the warm mug into her cool hands, Trina offers Ali a
smile. Well, this is going so well. Taking a sip, the mechanic now starts to lose some of the tension in her shoulders. She's been yelled and grumped at so much the past couple of days that she doesn't even realize how much she was braced until it starts to ebb away. "Ain't heard anythin' otherwise, so I'd gear up like you're in. 'n Cass 'n Lachlan, they're doin' alright, I guess. Considerin'. Once we get everythin' done tonight, we're gonna have to start pullin' everythin' together to get 'em out of here. Smartest thing to do, and I'm glad they're doin' it. I think everyone will breathe just a little better when Cass is finally out. This is no place for her. Or that little bundle o' terrific. Lach's done good, but it's … just gonna be good that they can go somewhere that the sun still remembers to shine once in a while."

McAlister nods. "That kid deserves something more." She keeps her wry grin, though - "You'll let me know what I can do, right? I'll keep askin', but, honestly? I have no clue. So whatever - just ask."

"Nothin' yet! Just keep goin'. Jack stirred up a hell of a hornets' nest, and it's gettin' ugly as sin out there." Finally pushing herself to her feet, Trina offers a helpless little shrug in Ali's direction. It's a smile she uses to try to downplay the grave nature of what she's saying. "And make sure you're on time tonight. S'gonna be a fuckin' fantastic fiesta." Breaking out nuns ftw!

"I'll be here." Ali grins, widely. "Couldn't keep me away. And yeah - it is. THey're rounding up anybody who /might/ have a clue - probably best I don't have one just because of that." She sips at her coffee. "I like the relaxed look. It suits ya."

There's the faint rose of a blush that creeps into Trina's cheeks, a sheepish smile crossing her lips and one eye squinting. "Yeah, well. Ain't had much time for it. It's either grubs or heels." A shrug. "But thanks. Remember when we used to get to just… wear whatever the fuck we wanted to work? I miss that. Jack never gave a shit. When we get this all fixed, I am sleeping in every day until noon for a year."

"Fair enough. Me? I'm going hiking." Ali grins. "I don't think I"ve ever been in this kind of shape before. I wanna see the grand canyon. Maybe head up to Mount Rushmore. That kind of thing. I think I wanna go where nobody knows who I am and hide for a while." She chuckles. "Then I'll show back up and bother you and Jack when there are kids to babysit and I'll have /stories/. Fear."

THe two are in the Super Sekret Saints Headquarters, in the common room, at the moment - where burned bacon and coffee are the scents of the day.

Again! Again with the kids talk. PEOPLE NEED TO STOP. Mostly because the more people talk, the more Trina WANTS ONE. Because right now it's just happy fuzzy fantasy, and that's where such dreams are best kept. Or maybe because she knows that it's just something she can't have. You always really want the things you can't have. Or maybe because, aside from the cracked little bits of Jack that make him want to chop off little bits of the people who make him angry, Trina knows that it could be just another thing that he'd be really good at. In the end, it doesn't matter. SHE CAN'T HAVE ONE. And it's probably best. What would she know about raising a kid, anyway? That's right. NOTHING. Maybe that's why she just rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right. Kids. Funny. I think I'd rather saw off my own leg first." There. That should be the end of such conversation. "Anyway, I'd prolly better get movin'. Work ain't gonna get done by itself, much as I wish it would." There's a ceremonial lift of her coffee mug, Trina smiling. "Thanks for the pick-me-up."

"Ditto, ya know? I've been walking around in a sorry-for-myself cloud for like a week, now." Ali snorts. "And any kid you have probably would know how to use a plasma cutter from the womb. Careful, they might, you know. Saw legs off." She winks, and stands, moving back for the fridge - "If you see Daddy Warbucks, tell him I'm lookin' for him too?"

Yay for the Super Saints!

It seems that the two of them though arn't the alone! As they chat in the living room one more person seems to arrive. Its Eric, dressed in denim and jeans with a suprised smile on his face as he strolls into the room and realises he isn't alone. "Evening ladies," He says cheerfully. Seemingly much more awake and aware than earlier. His hands are in his pockets, and he has the leftovers of a bag of McDonalds hanging loosely from one hand as he strolls into the room whistling. Noting Trina saluting her way out though he raises an eyebrow. "…it wasn't anything I said was it?" He asks with a grin towards her as he realises that he is about to leave.

There is a pause then, a blink and a raised eyebrow. "…Daddy Warbucks?"

There's only one man rich enough to be Daddy Warbucks. "I'll let Eric know you're sendin' your very be—" And then there's the sound of the devil himself, and Trina stops short to look at him. And then? Then she turns back to Ali and offers the most maniacal looking grin one could ever hope to see on her lips. FUNNY HA HA HA. HE HEARD ME. Yeah, that's what her mouth says without ever speaking. "I'll see you two later!" She cackles and then flat out races out the door before la Voix de la Resistance can do anything. "Don't get into too much trouble, Ali!" And then, GONE.

"…. damnit." Ali shoots /daggers/ after Trina. With her eyes. Not literally - and with sort of a helpless smile anyway. "Er. Hi. So. Ever thinking about getting your head shaved? You'd look good that way." Bright, that. Quite innocent. "Coffee?"

"…wait…/I'm/ Daddy Warbucks?" Eric replies with a raised eyebrow. "…I…I'm not even sure how to take that?" He mutters under his breath. Really he dosn't. He laughs helplessly though and shakes his head slightly towards the other guest in the room before he smirks slightly. "…and no, havn't really thought about it. Not anytime soon at least." Pause. "…though…it might help with wearing a helment…" He shakes his head though before he grins towards Ali. "…and coffee? No I just ate. You want a Big Mac?"

"…if I say 'no', do I have to eat it anyway?" Ali smiles ruefully, heading Eric's way, "Sure. Why not. You can honestly say you've bought me dinner, then. Your chef is a really great guy, but he doesn't understand the junk food necessity. it's like chef's school burned it out of him."

"Well yeah, Louis is like that…and I find it easier not to try to make an issue with a knife wielding martial artist that can move roughly the speed of sound," Eric says lightly before he laughs. "…yeah I stoped on the way back. The guy at the drive through thought I was some kind of celebrity." He shakes his head before setting the bag down near her and thumping down on the couch.

"…so…what did you want to talk about?"

Ali roots through it, pulling out cardboard container and blinking at Eric. "He can.. what? Seriously? I wouldn't have guessed it, looking at him." Mmm. Burger. This gets carried over in the vague direction of the couch. "I wanted to tell you thanks. For the other night - I had fun. Funny how much I can say that since you've shown up, too, especially given how little I've managed to actually, you know, stand in the same room with you." She grins, as she settles on the couch's arm. "Tell me we're winning?"

"Yeah he keeps it a good secret," Eric replies with a smirk towards her. "Most of the bodyguards do," He adds with a slight shrug. "…and your welcome. For the dance, the nice, and all the help." He smiles slightly. "I was gone for two years almost, its the least I can go it help with a bit of cash and resources. At the requestion though he looks up and shrugs slightly. "As much as we can yes. We are at least doing well."

"Good. These days? Most of what I hear is the news - " She raises a hand.. "And if Jack's not trusting me with stuff, that's fine. I trust him - but sometimes it's just something I want to hear, ya know?" Ali starts in on that burger. "It's more help than /that/ - cash, stuff - it's still just /stuff/. Important, sure - but people light up when you're around. Or haven't you noticed? Heck, you can even make Jack smile."

Eric just laughs and shakes his head. "…hey, I only found out about it all in the news as well," He replies with a smirk towards her. "So don't feel too special." He rubs the back of his neck though, even looking slightly apologetic. "…I know…I feel kind of bad about it. He's the boss though, and I'm sure he dosn't know what he's doing." At the last part he just shakes his head slightly. "…eh I'm sure its just because they missed me for two years. It'll wear off soon enough."

"I doubt it. You're a really great guy - you make people feel special. Important, you know? It's in your nature." Ali smiles, a bit wryly - pointing out - "I wish I'd met you a couple years back myself. Not that you'd have really looked twice at me - don't get me wrong. A couple years ago I was so terrified of killing people that.. well. I barely talked outside of the studio, seems like."

Nom. nomnom. She wolfs another bite or two of Mac Attack, there, before going on - "At least you can shoot people. Me? I'm second string, and I know I'm second string. They needed you - still need you. Jack needs people who believe in him, 'cause without that - he doesn't have much. He's taken on quite a bit." She swallows, then sighs. "And I'm getting all serious again. Here I was going to suggest maybe.. you know. Taking in a movie or something. Sneaking through Homeland, popcorn, dark seats - it's all I, Spy or something. And.. I thought it might be fun."

Eric is quiet for a long moment, his eyes focousing somewhere else. "…well…be glad you don't have to shoot people Ali," He murmurs. "Its never as much fun as they make it out to be." Sometimes it gets easy though. Sometimes it gets too easy. Thats when it gets slightly dangerous. When it gets too easy. "…they need you too Ali, even though you might not shoot people. You can touch people like no one else here can," He murmurs with a smile towards her. "…a movie though…" He blinks and raises an eyebrow. "…might be fun at least…"

"Yeah, and I can talk people into just about anything, and… I know. It doesn't mean I don't much feel useless, half the time." Ali waves a hand. "Stopit. I wasn't intending on getting all sorry-for-myself again. I can't shoot people, Jack feels protective, I ride a lot of benches - I'm okay with that."

She offers up a wry grin. "I don't even know what's playing, I haven't been to see one in so long." There's something tentative in the brash comment that follows, "After tonight. Might be worth doing, right? If you can put up with me for it, anyway."

"…Jack feels protective about everyone," Eric replies with a laugh and a shake of his head. "…someday it might get him in a little bit of trouble…but…right now he seems to be doing alright. A bit out on a limb lately, but alright none the less." He smiles slightly as he leans back, looking both tired and satisfied all at once.

"…well might as well see whats playing, we can't go wrong with a little bit of distraction. I think everyone needs it now days," He adds softly before he raises an eyebrow. "Put up with you? Only an idiot couldn't put up with you."

"Yeah?" Ali's eyes soften a bit - and she waves absently with that last half of a hamburger. "That's… really nice to say. And - to be honest? I don't know what to say to it." Self-consciously, she takes another bite out of that burger.

"…well why do you have to say anything?" Eric replies reasonably. He says as he turns slightly to look up towards her. A raised eyebrow as he smiles slightly. "I mean its the truth Ali," He adds with a slight shrug. "…your a good person…thats very rare nowdays…"

"Good." Ali smiles, sadly. "About five months ago, Eric - I got cornered by homeland on that glass building over by the Empire State - you know the one? Used to be.. I dunno. Some financial center or something." She moves to stand, heading for the bag on the counter, stuffing her cardboard wrapper in it.

"There were three of them. HomeSec guys. We talked for a little. They thought they could fly." She crunches the bag down, aiming for and hitting the trashcan. "My hands aren't any cleaner than anybody else's. I've made guys betray everything they believed in, turned people inside-out just because it had to happen. Somewhere along the way, I'll have to answer for it. But… I'm glad you think I'm good. Maybe I can be, when all this is over." She flashes him a warm smile. "I like you, Eric. A lot. One of these days, you're going to have to kiss me. I think I'd like to know what that's like before .. you know. Something happens." She flashes him a wink.

"I need to get changed for tonight. Thanks for the burger."

Eric listens and shen shrugs slightly. "…that makes us you no worse than the rest of us," He says quietly. "No one in the Saints dosn't have blood on their hands. Its what we do Ali, so other people don't have to. We get our hands duty, we have the will and the fortitude to do it. Thats something we all here have in common. Though…your still good Ali. You still have a good heart. Always keep that in mind." Then he laughs and gives her a smirk right back. "…well who knows, I might just take you up on that little experiment before its all said and done."

He waves his hand then. "…later then, take care of yourself."

With a laugh, she heads for the hall. "I'm just going to my room. What, one of your bodyguards is gonna shiv me on the way?" Merry, in fact. "Go get dressed. You'll end up late."

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