2007-08-21: Who The Hell Is Ricky Ricardo

Starring:

Church_icon.gif Giselle_icon.gif

Summary: Trigger Happy Blonde and Demolition Man have a moment of quality time.

Date It Happened: August 21st, 2007

Who The Hell Is Ricky Ricardo


Church and Giselle's Office, Primatech Paper, Hartsdale, NY

The background sounds pervading the office of the Trigger Happy Blonde and the Demolition Man are familiar ones to anyone that hasn't lived in a cardboard box in the middle of the wilderness. Come on and be my little Good Luck Charm~. Elvis, of course. Lawrence is in his chair, back to the desk and a folded newspaper in his hands. He is diligently doing the crossword, but inside that innocuous head there is a brewing storm of frustration about Felix. He is wearing a casual pair of jeans, sneakers, and a gray shirt that has black eyes and black slits along the edge. It's a skull! Oh yeah. Perching the eraser of the pencil in his lips, he reaches back without looking to fumble for the pair of reading glasses on the desk.

Trigger Happy Blonde ain't in the office right now, but it won't take glasses to figure out that - hey, she's back. To be honest, there is a /lot/ that Giselle has missed. Reprimands, informal business, other Officey Things To Take Care of; she couldn't have stuck around to puppyguard the talk of the day, much as she may have liked to. The officious clicks of heels and a heavier click at the door mark the woman's return from wherever she'd been for the last forty minutes, a thin manila file tucked away under one forearm. She is also dressed casually, her black cropped blazer pulled across a maroon shirt beneath; the black tweed pants flare slightly at the ankles. "Church—" she begins shortly, using one shoulder to ram the door shut behind her again.

"Don't want a silver dollar, a rabbit's foot on a string…happiness and your warm caress, no rabbit's foot can bring…" Church is also singing along, but quietly. The clicks of Giselle's approach sounds almost ominous, and though he tries to drown it out mentally - when the door rams shut, he does give a small jump in his seat. "Yyyyeeees?" The man turns himself around very, very, slowly to face Giselle.

Giselle simply lingers for a long moment, the top of her back resting against the closed door. She removes the manila file from her arm and adjusts it one-handed against her palm, aligning the papers inside with a few shaketaps. The expression on her face is difficult to read - she's both irritated at what happened and amused at what did, because if she were only a little more violent, she'd presumably have done what Vasili did. "Yeah. You got some /explaining/ to do." No, she hasn't seen Sillyhead yet. It's a collective request more than a specifically-aimed reprimand.

Church puffs out his cheeks and taps the yellow pencil to the tip of his chin. He is giving her some of his best Labrador eyes. I didn't start it. Totally innocent. "Do I? Hm." He's not going to say anything at all just yet. "Y'know, it woulda been better if you came in and did a Ricky Ricardo with that-"

"That what?" Giselle is unfamiliar with I Love Lucy, and thus, the cultural reference whiffs over her head. She glowers. "You know, this isn't going to go done well on your sheet - not when you just /got/ here, for pete's sake—"

Church flicks down his newspaper, nodding and raising his hands in defense. "Hey, yeah, I know. Don't tell me about it, babe, been there done that. But unlike those times before, this one was /not/ my fault. It was your darling Vasili all the way, and now I'm stuck trying to decide if we need to wipe clean the poor, beaten detainee and try again. He's clammed up and it looks like I can't do a thing about it. Don't we have telepaths for this…?" He asks himself this, and seems to be finished speaking for the moment.

Truth be told, it /is/ Vasili the brunt of her emotion is aimed at. He's not here at the moment, though. "Couldn't you have - I dunno - stopped him earlier? Lord, who gave him cell clearance /hours/ after he was supposed to lying in the ward?" Hospital ward. Giselle restlessly lifts her back from the door, covering the rest of the distance into the office with several well-placed long strides. For a moment, it looks like she's going to hit Church over the head with the file - but, no. She's only aiming to drop it down atop the rest of her area.

Church probably would not have minded being hit with a file. He's certainly experienced worse. The man is ready to flinch, regardless. Both elbows then perch on his desk, and his hands link in front on the crossword. "How would I have been able to stop him? I'm not a GPS. I told them to keep him out of the cell block cause he has no detainees of his own. It was someone's stupid mistake. He must have wormed his way through to a visit somehow. I was busy up here. I only found out cause some intern mentioned it off-hand. If she hadn't, Felix would be dead and Babenkov would probably be in his own cell."

The blonde stands rigidly to listen; it's only when Church is done that she slumps down in her chair, facing her file. There is a muffled 'auugh' as she briefly covers her face by her hands, then takes them away again. "Thanks for getting there anyway," she says grudgingly. "Dammit. It would've made more sense to pound the FBI guy into paste / when he'll actually /remember it/. S'not good to keep him here too much longer, but he can't be released /back into the wild/ looking like something ate his face."

A smirk crosses the older man's face. "I know, right? You need to give him a few lessons in timing, tact, and thanking God that I didn't put him out-out." Huff. Lawrence seems to relax his arms again, fingers fiddling around with the pencil. "At least during the chase scene I got to see whatever it is he does. Pushed me out of the way and into some doors with it. If I can't get him to fess up or get a telepath in here, I'm just going to jot him down as telekinesis and call it a damn day…"

Timing more than tact, as far as points of view are concerned. Giselle's fingers busy themselves by diddling with the papers inside the file for a while, shuffling at them with neatly curved nailtips. "I didn't tell you all about the first time I met him. I wouldn't call it telekinesis, exactly, if only because it seemed more specific than that." One wrist flexes, and she looks at it meditatively. "Like he slowed time down. Slowed me down. What feeling'd you get?"

Church listens carefully, his interest piqued. "Slowed /you/ down, or time? There are really not many cases of the latter. Was it a feeling of sluggishness, or hitting something tangible? With me, it sorta felt like he pushed me away with the air, spun me'round. Something like that." Taptaptaptap with the pencil. "I just know that he shoved me away without hardly a finger down."

"Me. Thoooough I'm not too sure—we'd do better watching a repeat." Giselle is also thoughtful, turning to tap her dull-black PC back into wakefulness. "It was definitely sluggishness. When I tried hitting him, it went all slow like it was happening through the eyes of a fly. Didn't even land." The cheating ass.

Oop! Sudden recall. "Oh! When we were bagging him, Giselle-did you see that moment where he had Vasili stuck in place? He was moving his arms, but his feet were stuck or something." The man has gotten suddenly excited, a spark in his eyes and one hand scratching at his jawline. "Gravity of some kind? Momentum, perhaps, but that doesn't really explain the feet…" He grumbles, thunking his head into one palm. "Ow!" Black eye stings when you -hit it-.

"Vasili give you that?" By now, Giselle is staring at a flickering screen with one hand resting on the mouse, visibly waiting for some program to boot. She sneaks a sideways glance at Church's afflicted eye as she clicks once. "Couldn't see a lot of what went on, but I don't remember Felix punching you. And /yeah/, I remember that. We'll have to keep gravity in mind."

Church pokes at the bruise around his left eye. "Yes ma'am. You-" He pauses, eyeing her. "Seeit. Did…you watch the tapes?" Bruise prodding continues, his movements gingerly running it over. My beautiful face got /marred/, okay.

"Not yet," Giselle returns in a clipped voice, but one that suggests she'll be making a deliberate point to round those tapes up in the near future. "I heard about it. That's why I asked you what happened - see if Felix really deserved what he got."

"No. He didn't. The only reason I can see for it was because he tried to put Babenkov away while he was in the NYPD, and failed multiple times. Grudge, or some crap. I bet it was us keeping the kid out of anyone's clutches. Man." Church gives off a small grunt, blinking his purpled eye and squinting over at Giselle. "…You're not secretly putting that clip on Youtube or something, are you?"

The screen is dark, scrolling ghostly-gray text as Giselle's pointer strokes the wheel. No Youtubing to be seen. She looks amused. "I hadn't even thought of that. But /no/, I wouldn't. I might film and Internet-post Felix getting beaten up another time though," she adds with a genuine look of thoughtfulness. Come to thiiiink of it.

Church frowns. Hey. "No. None of that, now, you hear? That poor dude's gotten enough done to him. He's gonna look like a pile of mush if someone goes after him again." He furrows both eyebrows over at Giselle, the small pencil still flicking around in his fingers. Suddenly, it bounces right out of his hand and across the room at the woman; if she's not all there it's going to go right down the front of her clothes. Oops. Lawrence's face looks like he just saw a baby squirrel get hit by a bicycle. Mild to light horror.

Giselle is in the beginnings of summoning a retort when /whatwhat/ she ducks. The grubby stub that had been intended for her blouse opening glances off her upraised wrist instead, eraser first. "What on earth was /that/ for?"

Church whimpers and follows with a complaint, crossing his arms on his chest. "My hands are all sweaty because I have -no idea what to do-, alright. It slipped, G." His chair spins around in a huff, but it doesn't have the desired effect when he spins the entire way around instead of half.

"Slipped, oh /really/-" Giselle eyes Church with a 'hmmph' expression. You will be /gotten back at/, do you hear. C'mooon, Lawrence, quit fooling around. Get the crossword out of the way- we have real work to do.

Church sighs loudly, deciding to start shuffling through files on his desk. Papers. Eugh. "Yes, Really." But now it will be a game, of course. Only the first will have been an accident. "I'll be going back to Ivanov tomorrow, if you want to come along." The man finds a few things to pick up, rising out of his seat. "I'm going to see if I can't find someone to talk to about Vasili's…behavior, and where he isn't allowed." Lawrence gives Giselle an apologetic look once again before he heads to the door. "See y'later, pumpkin." And he's gone, leaving the blonde to her own devices.

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