Track Ops: Reflection

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:19 pm

"Um, what the hel-" He didn't even have the time to curse at her about being used as a table when Ace started back talking. She waved off everything she had done as if it were nothing less than what she had done her entire life. He felt like she had taken a step into his house and deemed it to be her castle, striding anywhere she wished and placing plates on his laps like he was some type of jester. Still, what she was saying was far more important than his annoyance towards her. Marce was quickly reminded to babysitting. Even though the children are wild and almost untamable, one would still have to grit their teeth through it until the day is over and one gets their pay.

Marce was not getting paid to put up with her bullshit, however.

He leaped off the counter with ease, scoffing the last of his sandwich into his mouth before bumping into Ace on the way to the sink. It was a childish gesture, but he was in the middle of eating that whatever he had to say to her before could be shown in action. Actions did speak louder than words. The two of their plates clanked into the sink, the sound of running water combining with the clatters. He mulled over what she had said, chewing the last remnants of his blissful sub before responding.

"Of course they are. I doubt the Merenzo's have them in suites. If any of them were treated with the high life, it should have been Kelly." The words left before he could take them back. They lingered in the air as a reminder of the child's state when she was rescued. How long were the other girl's waiting to be rescued? Marce wiped his hands on his pants and walked straight to the living room, not even bothering to call Ace to follow.

"Any way those little flags could tell if they are alive or not or am i asking for a miracle?"

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:20 pm

"Yeah, because the one little girl with a wealthy background should have really been the one who deserved to be treated than the dozens of poor ones who are suffering worse than she was," Ace snapped back, then stopped and realized that she had let him get to her and said something that probably should have just stayed in her thoughts. She finished off her sandwich, ignoring the fact that he was obviously annoyed with her for using him as a table. As if it was her fault - she had sat at the counter before he chose to sit on it in front of her. Whatever. She slid down and walked over to the sink, setting her empty plate inside before turning to see him vanishing into the living room.

"They're all alive. The dead have already been buried and their flags taken off the map," she said quietly, though loud enough for him to hear as she waited a moment before trailing after him into the living room. She sat on the opposite end of the couch from him and just watched him for a little while before she looked away.

"I know we aren't going to get along, Marce, but that doesn't mean you have to treat everything that I'm saying or doing as an act of deliberate defiance. I'm trying, okay?"

She sighed inwardly and pulled her bag over to her across the floor, rummaging around in it again. After a moment she pulled out a small notebook, only a few inches tall and bound at the top with a spiral wire. It had one hundred pages and every single one had at least two names and addresses on it, plus directions that involved rows and columns. She tossed it at him with a glance.

"The locations of the bodies of the girls who didn't make it."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:22 pm

"I am too, sweetheart." he muttered, loud enough for her to hear but not too loud for it to seem false. It was just hard to hear bad news over bad news over bad news again. Marce had a job to do for the BAD: protect, order, serve. He thought it was an accomplishment getting Kelly back to the States alive and well only to find out that there were 47 other girls in the same situation, and some that didn't make it. What was the hardest pill to swallow, was knowing that Ace knew all of this the entire time she was wearing the Reflection mask, and yet she took her sweet precious time with giving the BAD the coordinates to her whereabouts. He was trying, alright. Really hard.

When he tossed her the note book, he grabbed it in the air and looked at it. His eyes darted down the pages of very clear and legible writing. A name and a location. Some of them seemed rushed and scribbled in while others were crystal clear. Marce swallowed something nasty when Ace told him what the names were. The Rachel Windwood. Betty Miles. Rachel Neubacher. Kendra Todd. The list went on and on and each and every time he went from one to the other, the image of a cold, blue body zipped in his eyes. Marce realized what he had swallowed was bile. He was starting to get sick.

"It doesn't do anything for me but torture."he said, tossing the notebook to the couch as if it were covered in acid. He locked eyes with her instantly to see if she caught his slight moment of weakness. Her face was just as somber as his. Was it possible that she shared the same pain he did? He doubted it.

"There's 47 flags for one girl or multiple ones? If so, do you know the exact location of them or just the general area?"he asked, coughing to clear his voice back to Marce Jove material.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:23 pm

Ace watched Marce react to what she had handed him, knowing that it was probably really hard to accept. He had been working under the glorious delusion that this one girl was the only one. A conspiracy, probably, against the government since she was the daughter of one of their own. Just the Merenzo's causing waves. Yeah, right. More like floods, but BAD didn't know about it. Now Marce was being tossed into a pit and told that Kelly was just one. Not only were a few dozen still waiting out there to be rescued, but over one hundred had already given their life to escape the slavery. Even for somebody who knew about it, it was difficult to think about, and she soon froze the thoughts to focus on Marce.

"Each flag is for one girl, except for one flag in Australia that is the location of a set of twin girls. When you tap the screen, it zooms. If you tap a flag, it hones in on that specific one. The building that they're being held in is marked. Every single flag has an address, and I could probably tell you how many Merenzo goons are set up around each one, but it'd take me a while. The ones in larger cities have more security, the ones hidden away have less," she said, picking up the tablet as she spoke and tapping it a few times to demonstrate what she meant before she handed it back to him and settled back in place.

"I've been collecting this information for over a year.. I know what you're thinking. Why didn't I go to the police, right? I've got addresses and the lives of children in my hands and instead of telling the government, I just sit back and keep my mouth shut," she said, looking down at her hands and shaking her head slightly. "It wasn't like that though, Marce. It really wasn't."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:24 pm

He kept his eyes on her at all times. Most of the reason was to find some emotions in the lines of her face. While she was saying all of that, while she was thinking everything up until that point, did she feel any remorse? Any sympathy for the poor little girls captured in the hold of a notorious group of Italian men? Dead the names of the dead women scream out at him on that notebook like they had done for him. He wanted to know that there was an ounce of emotion in that stern, arrogant body of hers.

Ace eventually brought his attention back to the tablet, showing him exactly how the flags worked. It was kind of like a little game. You tapped on a flag on a country, double clicked it for building and addresses, getting specific locations. Each flag was pin-pointed in a specific place on the map. When Ace gave him the honors, he tapped the ones in Brazil and other parts of South America. Quite a few were there. There wasn't a great many in Italy, obviously. With Merenzo's being Italians, holding woman hostage in their own country was a nuke waiting to happen, though he knew the BAD would not go that far.

"It's gonna be hard saving all of the women by myself since you will not allow me tell anyone else about this information. Which, I don't see why not. I can tell the Ops of the BAD but I will guarantee your safety in my house."he said once she finished her confession of why she didn't relay the information to the authorities. Marce was convinced that nothing she could say would justify why she kept the information from him and the BAD when they needed it the most...but there was one problem: He couldn't make it past her facial expression. Her lips, full and pink, had curved into a frown of sorts and Marce winced, doing his best to avoid the look.

"Talk to me."he said in the calmest voice he held since their meeting.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:27 pm

"I never said that you couldn't tell anybody, Marce. I know that you can't do it all on your own, you aren't that good. All I said was that I wasn't going to tell anybody except you. I didn't want a group interrogation from all of your lovely friends. Do with the information what you want, just don't tell them where you got it until it's all over with. After the Merenzos have been destroyed, you can yell my name out from the rooftops if you want, I won't care. I'm sure I'll be dead long before then anyway," she said, not looking at him as she said that.

"I am talking to you," she added shortly after a minute or two, her expression clear as she internally shut down to avoid showing him too much. This was business. All he wanted was information.

"Keep the tablet, bring it to work, whatever. You can have the notebook too in case you want to notify families where their daughters are buried," she said, then stood and glanced at him for a moment before looking around.

"Bathroom?"

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:27 pm

Marce was ready to comment her on her death speech but, as many times as she did before, she disregarded his slight tinges of worriment and care as nothing but nuisance. Her point was clear: He could revel in the information as much as he needed to but she wasn't going to tell another soul but him. Marce should have been rolling around with the tablet clung to his chest with a sheepish smile of victory on his face. Fairy tales never came true. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with the notebook first and foremost. It had the names of dead girls on them. Why would he want to be anywhere near it? The computer was almost the same. What if one of the red flags vanished right before his eyes? It wasn't just a tiny colored signal on a screen. It was a human being killed, murdered, or committing suicide while in the presence of cold-hearted Merenzo's.

"I am talking to you."

Marce brought his iced gaze up to her. Ace couldn't get past her arrogance to even see the severity of the situation! Marce could literately feel his blood boiling beneath his skin, but getting mad at her would get him no where. She would just refuse to talk to him for the rest of the night and continue the talk in the morning. Marce looked over to the digital clock on the stand beside him. 12:34 AM. He sighed and wiped his face with one hand.

"Down the hall, second room to the left." His voice gathered a tired twinge, coming out in muffled puffs through his fingers. Thoughts of death and loss had tainted his mind and way of thinking for the night. The two of them might as well had dropped it until the morning when they were well rested more so than they were in the hospital. Marce grabbed the tablet and held it open, staring blatantly at the flags, looking at that the empty space where the Holand was. Where Kelly's flag had been. He darted his eyes over the screen slowly, eyes dropping in either fatigue or stress. Whichever one, it would be banished with sleep.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:28 pm

Ace sat on the side of the tub after she had found the bathroom and locked the door behind her out of habit. Staring at the tiled floor blankly, she wondered how long it was going to be before Marce really started to lay into her and demand answers with a firmer hand than he was now. Already he was getting irritated, and soon that would boil down to violent frustration. It was a matter of time. She glanced at the window, small but large enough for somebody to crawl out of if necessary. Escape wasn't on her mind, though. Actually, she was surprised that he had let her come here alone after reacting so poorly to her being left to her own devices at the hospital. Perhaps giving herself up earned the trust that she wasn't going to bolt.

Fantastic.

She stood after a few minutes and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Reflection. It was who she really was, right there for people to see if they looked closely enough. Nobody ever did.

Flushing the unused toilet and washing her hands, she went back out to the living room and curled up on the end of the couch. She didn't even glance at him, not for a single moment. Now that she was back in front of him, she had just shut down again. Feeling numb instead of anything else that was boiling just below the surface. The urge to break down and cry was gone, replaced by a calm that probably irritated the shit out of him. Oh well, not her problem until he snapped.

"Next question?"

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:29 pm

Sending her away to the bathroom only made things worse. The living room's atmosphere got more lonely and the air got colder. Hallucinating or not, Marce was feeling a tad better when she walked passed him and to her previous position on the couch. He looked at her after flickering his eyes away from the tablet. Her expression didn't look any different from before. Her eyes never crossed over to his or anywhere other than the couch for that matter. Marce lifted a brow but even that didn't amuse her. She just muttered for him to continue with the business at hand. His shoulders slumped at her somber command. If he wan't mistaken, he might have been able to catch a twinge of pain in her visage. Then again, it was almost one in the morning. Marce would have believe anything at that point.

"Fair enough. What took you so long to tell me where Kelly was? It can't have been fear. I had no idea where you were and had no chance of hurting you at the quickest chance. You had so many opportunities to tell me. And you knew she was in danger. Why did you take your time?"

Marce set the tablet down for the moment. There was no need to consult the tablet at all. They were only discussing Ace's job as Reflection in tiny bits and pieces. It was more difficult than Marce let it off as being. Every single question he asked her had 5 more waiting behind it. However, when another yawn passed his mouth, he planned on sending them both to bed when she answered his question.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:29 pm

"I didn't take my time."

Ace turned and looked over at Marce, meeting his gaze evenly so that he would realize she wasn't lying to him. She knew that this question was bugging him badly, and she refused to let him get angry and think that she didn't give him the whole answer. In fact, she was more upset that he thought she was just leading them around mindlessly than she let on, but of course she would never tell him that. Let him think she was cruel. Not that it mattered anyway, as long as everything was ending on the right note.

"The Merenzos aren't stupid, Marce. They can be outsmarted, but they aren't just a bunch of cattle. Every single location that I gave you, every single clue, was real. And yet every single time they got tipped off. Kelly was moved so many times that it took all of my time just to track her around so that I could feed you the next spot. Either somebody working for you was tattling back to them, or they just saw you coming. She was there, you were so close for weeks and there was nothing else I could do to get you there."

She paused for a moment, then turned back and looked away. It was late, she was tired, but she knew that she wouldn't sleep for a while even if he gave her a bed right this second. All she wanted was a reset button on life, was that so much to wish for?

"Next question.."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:31 pm

"No more questions. At least, not for now. We'll finish after some breakfast in the morning."

Marce didn't bother to wait for her to answer, for he knew that nothing but some smart ass comment was going to come out. So, instead, he grabbed both the notebook and the tablet, tucking the two items under his arm while standing over Ace. She still didn't care to hold eye contact with him and it was too late for Marce to argue that. She did whatever she wanted while he did whatever he wanted. It was his house, at that. He was gracious enough to let her stay there for the time being. However, he knew he'd eventually have to go back to work and boy was he going to have eyes on him when he walked into that building and passed the grey and navy blue suits.

"Follow me. You can sleep in my room. The guest room is still being painted and I won't have you sleeping on a couch." He lead her through the house, turning on the hallway light as he passed through so that he would have some sort of light when he came back the same way. He looked behind him once to make sure Ace was okay...as if something horrible could've happened to her in the short time of leading her to the room. Marce was really riding the paranoid train that night.

"I'll wake you up when the food is done. If you do wake up, don't leave the room. There is a bathroom already in there at your disposal. Don't argue, it's just precautions." He held the door open for her, flipping the light switch on and standing in the frame of the door way, waiting for her to walk in and do her necessary preparations for bed. He didn't have a fear that she would escape. He was just...looking out for her in the safe confines of his home. Yeah, he was losing it.

"Sleep well."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:31 pm

Ace was stunned. Marce didn't argue or call her a liar or even retort to her taking so long to lead them to the correct spot. All he did was accept it with no response at all and say that he wasn't asking any more questions until after breakfast. She blinked and stood up uncertainly, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder after closing it up again.

"Okay."

She followed him quietly to the room and stepped in as he flicked on the light, looking around before setting her bag on the dresser. Since she hadn't had the foresight to pack pajamas in her hurry to abandon her apartment, she would just half strip once Marce left and dress before she saw him in the morning.

"This is really nice. You didn't have to put me up in here, I would have been just as comfortable on the couch without kicking you out of your own bed," she said, sitting on the side of the bed and glancing over at him.

"Thank you.. Goodnight."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:36 pm

I don't want to believe her.

I really don't want to believe any of the shit she's already told me about the other missing girls, but I'd just be stupid if I didn't. It's right there in front of my facing, laying there for no reason. She held the key to everything that BAD want to accomplish. It's hard to think that Kelly wasn't the only one. That there are 47 Kelly's out there...some who had been missing for fucking years and I have to be the one to burden them all with it. It would've mad my life a lot easier if they had just killed her when we were in that water, but no. i had to go all James Bond and save her.

What do I do now? She's asleep in my bed waiting for me to wake her up in the morning. I have to make her breakfast like I damned mother. I am taking care of the enemy. Bob is going to get a kick out of this. The whole BAD is going to love finding that I am harboring fugitives in my bedroom. I hate that she's so damn...beautiful.

Beauty can be the sharpest blade.

-Marce
Spec Ops #14
July 20th, 2002

Marce put his book down beside the nightstand, wrapping both of his hands behind the back of his head. His eyes hit the ceiling ahead of him in the dim light of his table lamp. There was no sounds but the drain pipes of the kitchen sink and the outside chatter of the insects. Marce never had this hard of a time falling asleep on his own will, but then again, he had been put through more stress tonight than any other he had known. Not even when he lost his ex lover to a pro-wrestler, of all occupations. His face fell in disgust at the memory, clearly not the best train of thought to be riding.

A cricket interrupted his thoughts, forcing him to shake his head free of the wondering. When he did so, his eyes caught the faint gleam of the kitchen sink, two plates sparkling in the sliver of moon light that escaped from the window above it. Two plates were a new for him. It was usually one. Marce was brought back to when he found Ace lying sprawled at the bottom of the staircase. She was Reflection then, and now...who was she? Grace? Ace? His alibi in the fight against the Merenzos? He crooked his neck up to peer down at the dark hallway knowing that Ace lay soundly asleep in his bed. Another woman had successfully booted him from his own bed and onto the couch.

Marce laughed to himself, burring his stubbled cheek into the pillow before the hum of the kitchen sink did away with him.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:36 pm

Once Marce was gone and had shut the door, Ace stood up and stretched. All of that sitting around and talking made her want to go run laps or something - which was odd, considering her hobby used to be sitting in front of computer screens all day with nothing else to do. She sighed and pulled off her shirt and bra, setting them in a neat pile on the floor and pulling on a long tank top that went down to a few inches below her hips. Satisfied, she wiggled her way out of her jeans and added those to the pile, along with her socks and shoes. A long shirt and panties. Ah, bliss. She pulled the elastic out of her hair and let the wild curls tumble free. Now she was ready for bed.. she just wasn't ready to sleep.

She frowned and climbed back up on the bed after flicking off the light. It was comfortable, but she was warm and kicked away the blankets before settling with just the sheet. She yawned and laid back on the pillows, staring at the window as the faint glow of streetlights lit the bottom inch of it. It reminded her of her own apartment, which didn't even exist anymore. She thought of everything that had happened, recalled the pain of being shot and the horrified shock at her savior being somebody who actually knew who she was. Marce wasn't what she expected, but it still wasn't a dream working with him.

At least he was a fantastic piece of eye candy..

Shaking her head, she put her hands over her eyes and groaned softly to herself. Why was she thinking about how attractive a man was when he was probably out there thinking about how many ways he could injure her before she died? She must be an even worse masochist than she thought. Rolling onto her side, she kicked the sheet off and sighed. No point keeping it on anyway. She was hot and Marce wouldn't come in here. Plus, she'd probably be up earlier than he was and be showered by the time he dragged his ass out of bed.

That was the last thought she had before she drifted off to sleep with a smile.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:37 pm

It wasn't the worst sleep in history, but it sure as hell wasn't the best.

First, it was a bird. An innocent, beautiful, normal Georgian bird perched right beside the living room window sill. Maybe it found the glass fascinating. Maybe it perched there to take a break from all the flying around it had done earlier that morning. Maybe it was just to annoy the shit out of him. Whatever the case was, the bird decided to serenade Marce at 6:44 in the morning with the longest symphony of the ages. It tweeted, sang, chattered, and did every other sound effect that could have come out of a bird's beak. It was amplified when coming through the pane, seeping into Marce's ears and crashing around it's drums. He groaned in annoyance, turning over with both legs bent on the couch. His muscles screamed out at the torturous sleep he endured the hours before. Now that he had made a legitimate movement, he was awake and could not hope to return to his slumber.

He imagined the sound of glass breaking when he pulled back his lids to reveal the dilating, aquamarine pools of his eyes. The bird continued to sing away, even louder than before as if it had just realized that Marce was awoken. He blinked a moment or two more, still not tempted enough to move from the little comfort he did have that entire morning. Still, chirping aside, he knew he had a woman in his bed waiting for him to wake her up. Marce forced out a yawn and a sigh at the same time before swinging both legs from the couch. The right side of his hair had become matted down by the throw pillow he had slept on. His fingers ruffed through the patch, returning it to its dark brown, tousled look.

The bird quieted down enough for Marce to register the silence in his house; a silence that meant that Ace had not awaken yet. Good. He felt much better knowing that she was not traipsing around his house, messing with things her hands had no business being on. Marce's knees cracked before he rolled his neck, cracking the lodged joints there overnight. There was a couple of satisfying pops until he made his way down the newly lit hallway. He mulled over whether to knock on the door first or not, but his room, his rules. Still succumbing to a bit of mannerly weakness, he wrapped his knuckles on the door before pushing it back, sticking the left half of his body inwards.

"You up?" he spoke in the softest tone he could muster from his throat. He was hit with an...unexpected sight. There she lay: slender, stationary, slightly curled against the pearl sheets and forest green covers of his bed. Her brown curls had mingled in with the brilliant greens of the spread, blending in perfection. Her long shirt stopped just by the base of her thigh, revealing more skin that he wanted to see.

Though on other circumstances...

Marce forced the thought out, wrapping his knuckles against the door harder, as if she were the reason he was having such a hard time thinking straight.

"Ace. Get up." he ordered.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:38 pm

"I'm not ready yet. Take Jo-Anne out first."

Ace's sleepy murmur was all that came from Marce ordering her out of bed - at least at first. She was still deep in her dreams, with reality slowly interrupting the setting in random bits and pieces. In her mind, she was still sprawled on a cot in a dark basement with blacked out windows that the sun could never hope to penetrate. She was speaking to a man that she hadn't seen in years, while she hurriedly packed a bag. As the man changed to Marce and she outwardly opened her eyes, light penetrated the basement and the rest of it all fell away while reality shattered the images. She blinked a few times and sat up, rubbing her eyes before looking up at Marce and realizing that he was waiting for her to get out of bed.

"Oh, good morning. I'm going to take a quick shower before we get down to the single light over a metal chair interrogation, if that's okay?" she said, sliding off the bed so that she could stretch more effectively. It was a very comfortable bed, but she wasn't used to such a soft mattress so the 'sinking in' sensation had caused some minor aches. The rush of blood to her sleeping muscles was invigorating and she sighed contentedly.

She wandered toward the bathroom, assuming he'd say yes or just leave her to it.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:42 pm

"Really? That attitude this early in the morning?" That was the only thing he was going to say because if he would've went any further, she would have continued the debate. Marce had already had a rough 5 minutes in the morning, he didn't want to humor the thought of her sitting in an interrogation room. Besides, he wasn't scheduled to see Bob until much later int he afternoon. Bryson swung him a call in the mid-morning, telling him that he and Alex were heading to a hotel in Georgia. That little information was basically a silent code for saying Bob had called and ordered for a meeting. Marce was too sleepy and groggy to ask Byrson whether to bring Ace or not. He just assumed he would. He smiled at Ace, well, more like smirked at her as he waved his hand as if to display the shower.

"Take your time." he noted, remembering the disgusting stench of the river water being washed off of him while he were in the hospital. He would have to soon take one himself, but, ladies first of course. He figured she would take hours upon hours in the bathroom, which is why he offered the breakfast thing. By the time he got done cooking, she should be ready to dry her great mass of hair. He didn't have any of the lovely, dainty shampoo products that she may have carried in her apartment, but his Head and Shoulders would have to suffice. Marce stood and watched her make her way to the bathroom, swinging her hips in the same fashion she had last night. His lips pulled into a forced, tight line before nodding and stepping out from the door frame.

With the door closed, Marce could let out the breath he had been holding for about 20 seconds or so, part of it coming out as a large sigh. For the millionth time in the span of two days, Marce wiped his face with his full hand, blinking a couple of times afterwards. he was just having one hell of a week, that was all. Content with that somber truth, he trudged through the hallway again, shoes still on from last night leaving imprints in the carpet. One glance to his left told that the bird had vanished. Lovely. He looked to his right at the kitchen, debating on whether to just...take the lady out to eat. Or was the information to valuable to be hushed outside those walls?

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:43 pm

Ace turned and stuck her tongue out at Marce as she reached the bathroom doorway, but he had already gone. She shook her head to herself with a smile and went in, shutting the door behind her and locking it yet again out of habit. Stripping off what little clothes she wore, she turned the shower on to a scalding heat and stood back to wait a few moments. Once it was steaming, she hopped in and closed her eyes.

The water relaxed her and she simply stood there for a few minutes until she was completely drenched. Opening her eyes, she looked around and found Marce's shampoo. She scrubbed a dollop in her hair until it was all foamy, then rinsed it out and worked on soaping up her body. All in all, it was a quick shower, and she was stepping out in less than ten minutes. She wrapped a towel around herself and walked out into the bedroom, picking up her bag and hauling it back into the bathroom with her since she had forgotten it in the first place.

She brushed out her hair and pulled it up into a bun, tucking in the ends to get rid of the scraggly look. Applying only minimal eye makeup and a brush of lipgloss after brushing her teeth, she figured that going all out for a day of sitting around and being glared at was a stupid idea. She chose a plain set of undergarments, then tugged on a pair of black shorts and a dark purple tank. Finished, she wandered out and made the bed, then walked out of the bedroom.

"Your turn, if you want it."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:44 pm

Marce watched Ace emerged from the hallway clean, fresh, and brand new. She had on a decent change of clothes, something suddle and not too decent. She was just a normal woman in a normal house with a normal house, wasn't she? As long as that was the appeal she was giving off, it was okay with him. That was the look he wanted her to go for. He didn't need everyone and their great-grandmothers staring at her like she was some kind of criminal, even though she kind of was. In his eyes, she was wearing a tangerine orange jumpsuit with deep, dark, shadowed mascara that had blotched here and there around her eyes, face white without the help of skin tone foundation. He rather liked the look on her. The bun could of left, though. He was more of a free, down person himself. If push came to shove, he'd just take it out himself.

Realizing he was thinking down different roads he swore to block off, Marce gave her the smallest of nods. The conversation was short, willow, and not very bright, but it was the most the two could deal with at the moment. The Merenzo and kidnappings would have to wait. It was damn too early for that.

"...Thank you." he told her, motioning towards the couch before turning his body to face her fully. The sunlight played through the blinds of the window behind her, almost as if she were being dazzled with strobe lights. "I'm not in the mood for cooking, but driving I can do. We'll grab something to eat before stopping at the office. I need to grab something." Marce left out any important details that he was positive she would just maul over. Actually, with the way she was acting then, she may have just brushed it off as if she didn't care. Marce, walking straight to the bathroom without the slightest look back at Ace, decided to save the ensuing argument for later: he just wanted to shower.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:47 pm

"Okay."

Even though she agreed with a single word and made no other sound as he walked off to shower, Ace was far from silent in her own mind. She wondered why he had to grab something from the office with her along for the ride, immediately thinking awful and suspicious things about whether or not he'd turn her in. They hadn't even finished the questions, but maybe instead of breakfast he was just going to interrogate her some more before throwing her to the metaphorical sharks. It seriously wouldn't surprise her. What did surprise her was that the thought pained her. She wanted Marce to know everything and to believe that she wasn't a terrible person, but why was she even bothering to try?

You've always been an idiot, Ace, she thought to herself. She could feel herself shutting down as she sat there and just waited for Marce like a good little girl instead of wandering around and peeking through his apartment with an abundance of curiosity like she normally would have done. The game was up, why was she still playing as if she could win? It was only right that he'd give her up, she realized. She had played with the wrong people and gotten caught. The good ol' American government at work.

Why did she ever trust them?

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:47 pm

Not the response he figured she would give him, but he wasn't complaining. A few minutes or two of her being quiet and somber were well needed and highly praised. He gave her a long, hard look; one that she did not return. She was purposefully keeping her eyes off of him for a reason. A reason he would find out sooner or later, whether she liked it or not. He had a really easy time looking at people, reading them by nothing but their body gestures and facial expressions. Typically all humans could do that, but one would call Marce and expert at the art. He didn't bother responding to her half-bit acceptance of going out to get something to eat, and, instead, nodded his head towards the front door. She already had her clothes and shoes on...he doubted she kept money on her.

He remained silent while the two of them marched out of the door and to Alex's Crown Vic. He didn't want to tell her that the thing at the office he was supposed to get was his actual car, returning Alex to her rightful vehicle. He'd much rather see if she squirmed under the paranoia of being brought face first in front of the government. So far she had yielded not even the slightest stutter from her pink lips. No dice, No matter. Maybe a conversation of dead female carcasses over a hot plate of waffles would do the trick.

The hell am I thinking?, Marce asked himself when he passed over the passenger side of the door, being too gentleman-like for his own good by opening the door for her. He was not usually that sinister in his thoughts and plans especailly when he had a burden as big as the one he carried with him now. Figuratively speaking, there was a weight on his chest that he heaved into the car, cranking the engine and hearing the satisfying hum in the later seconds. yet again, he was leaving his home. Yet again, he was going out of his comfort zone to do something for somebody who he despised, though he used the word very heavily. In truth, he didn't hate the woman. He just wasn't so....trusting.

"AC?"he asked, looking behind him as he reversed from the driveway with ease, wheeling off onto the main road without even the slightest back-glances towards his house.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:48 pm

Ace hadn't budged an inch or even talked to herself while Marce was in the shower. Her focus was mostly inward, but there were windows to gaze out of as well while she waited. After what seemed like an eternity, he came out, all fresh and ready to go. She stood and followed him out the door after tugging socks and shoes on and grabbing a light sweater just in case. It was probably going to end up raining later, knowing her luck.

Marce's gesture with opening the door was unexpected and a little suspicious but she just nodded in thanks and slid in. As she buckled, he got in and started the car and they started leaving. It was odd how they hadn't spoken since he got out of the shower, but she found that she didn't mind. When he did speak up about the air conditioner, she just gave him a slight shrug. It wasn't her car, after all, and why did he suddenly care about her opinion? She was starting to reach a point in her thoughts where she was questioning why she was still here.

"Doesn't matter to me either way," she said quietly as they reached the main road and started driving along. She had no idea where he wanted to go for breakfast or even if they'd really eat before going to his lovely office. Surprises, surprises.

"You drive like a little old lady."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:49 pm

"....Alright then." he commented while twisting the gray dial to the air all the way to the left, trailing the white marker on the dial onto the dark blue section above it. Not done proving his point and impending her torture, he turned the next dial to the number 5, the highest power of the Vic's vent. Cold air didn't rush out at first. It was still in mid fall and cars such as that one took a long time to heat/cool up before adjusting to the preferred temperature. So, for the time being, Marce lounged back into his throne in the driver's seat, waiting for the cold to meet them both. Her comment made him smile; legit that time, not forced.

"This isn't my car. I handle things that don't belong to me with the utmost care, especially things that belong to the BAD. Working there or not. I can still get my ass kicked if I scratched a line of paint on this car." Alex took her car very seriously, even more serious than men usually did. They say a man is 2 times what his car is, which is supposedly why they have to have the best ones to compensate for how great the pair was. Marce Jove thought it was a load of bullshit, but that didn't mean he couldn't have nice things. Like Alex, he was different in his desire for a car. Speed and style would be nice. Alex wanted everything she could get and more in her car note. If she could drive a robot he would bet it would have hydrolichs.

"And I've chased an old woman for road rage once. Shot a guy point blink with a double barrel at a traffic light, just for tailgating. I'm not feeling very violent right now. Give me an hour or two." He wasn't going to give her any reassurance on whether that was a joke or not because, quite frankly, he had no idea. It could have been but then again, he was with his enemy. Some strings could be pulled here and there.

The car took a left turn onto Burmeese Street, the main street in the east side of Decator. It had a string of fast food restaurants, a hotel or two, a crap load of junk yards, and some other things he didn't bother to pay attention to. The Georgian BAD office would take 45 minute drive to get to, breakfast not included. He was going to ask her where she wanted to eat, but his conscious told him to stay out of that fight, warning him that she was just angry because she may have been on her cycle. Whatever the case, he was the driver so he called the shots.

"Any idea where you want to eat?" Son of a bitch, he cursed himself.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:51 pm

"So, basically, you're telling me that if I decide I don't like you anymore I should just key the car and watch what happens to you?" Ace quipped, in more of a mutter than a joking tone. She cocked an eyebrow and glanced at him when he told the story about the old woman, wondering if it was true or not. Granted, she had seen some very pissed off old ladies in her lifetime. One in particular.

Frowning slightly at the thought, she wondered just how violent Marce could feel. For some reason the majority of the American population seemed to work under the thought that the angriest you could be at a person was when you killed them. The utmost show of violence, and apparently the degree varied by the method. Strangulation was 'super violence' and using a gun was just 'regular'. But Ace knew the truth. If you really wanted to rage and get that revenge, you didn't kill a person straight out. Oh no. That was too good for them. So, she tried to judge how violent Marce would get. He struck her as a shoot-'em-and-get-it-over-with type of guy.. Once he had the information he wanted.

"McDonald's," she said after a few silent minutes, probably seeming to pick a place at random as they went down the street, but she did have her reasons. If he asked or resisted, she'd just tell him that she didn't care and to pick a place instead of asking her opinion if he wasn't going to listen.

Old woman drivers.. Pft..

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:52 pm

"Of all the places on this strip, you want to go to...Of course, Grace. Let's go get a fabulous breakfast at McDonalds."

Saying her first name had some power to it, like he could just control her at the blink of an eye. It was a very funny and paradox type of name, almost like naming a rabid pit bull 'Angel.' He hadn't said it at all until that very moment while he was yielding to oncoming traffic, trying to make aright turn into the restaurant. It wasn't just the fact that she said it so late that he almost flipped the car over trying to make it into the lane. It was that she wanted McDonald's out of all things. Marce shot her a blue glare when she said it, trying to make sure she wasn't moping or being depressed.

She was being both.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me, he swore to himself, swallowing back a couple of external curse words before a blue Sudan finally passed by, allowing him to take the turn into the McDonald's parking lot. There were quite a few cars there considering that it was 7:21 in the morning. A growl came from his stomach and just in time, too. He parked the Crown Vic a good ways away from the other cars in the lot. He was serious about not scratching a detail on that car. Marce licked his lips when he turned the car off. The silence that ensued was deafening, so much to the point where the two of them were able to hear a woman screaming at the drive-thru. Marce touched his bottom lip before looking over to Ace who had been silent the entire time.

"We eat for an hour. No less. The office doesn't open until 8:30 anyway." He caught her eyes for a moment too long, and before he could bite his own tongue, he could already hear his voice in his ears. "I'll take care of you."