Up in Smoke in California [Stephen]

[Stephen Gage]

"So long as you can still walk in it, sure. But I'm not going to explain to the TSA why I have a walking ball of cotton behind me." Stephen kept his jibe light, grinning as he kept his eyes forward. Last thing he needed to do was trip on some wayward IV machine and stay longer in this hospital than he needed to. "And trust me, they're bigger creeps than anybody else there." Too often had the TSA informed Stephen that no, he was not allowed to take his flask of Jameson on the plane. He'd gone through at least four good flasks that way. What a terrible waste of money. The things Mr. Gage sacrifices for national security.

'Amanda' gave him the right of way, and Stephen took it, leading her patiently and steadily through the halls. He'd only walked them once, and nearly gotten lost while doing so, but in his adventures throughout the corridors he had acquired a fair knowledge of which ones wouldn't get him where he wanted to go.

He walked a step-and-a-half ahead of her, long legs giving him the advantage to which he rarely payed attention. Her question came from behind him, and he chuckled at it. Stephen turned his head slightly to look back at her. "Collect freaks? Never, really. Haven't gotten one of those yet. I do go out and find pretty bitching kids like you all the time, though." That was part of the job, to keep them happy. Happy recruits were all but through the doors of Hammel before they even got there, and keeping them sure of themselves was one way to keep them happy. Whether 'Amanda' considered herself a freak, Stephen had no idea. He did know, however, that such feelings were neither rare nor beneficial. Best to get them out of the way.

"It changes, really. Sometimes I'm not there for a few weeks, otherwise I don't leave for months at a time. Depends when kids manifest, really. I'm not the only recruiter, though. There's plenty of others." He grinned to her. "But you got me!" A quiet chuckle escaped him, enjoying his own poor attempts at humor. He turned his face forward again, shaking it slightly. "Ain't you lucky."

Stephen approached an elevator, jamming the button marked with a downward arrow in with his thumb. It was only a floor away, judging by the light array above the doors. He turned an eye down to her cat, curious. "What's its name?" The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Stephen stepped in, holding down the buttom that would keep the doors open for the time beind. "Gift shop's likely on the first floor. Always found it weird that hospitals had them."

[Jessica Pruitte]

“I don’t think I’ll have a problem walking in a sweatshirt, but I’m also pretty damn sure the TSA would rather have me covered than romping through the place with my bikini bottom hanging out. And I would rather be a walking ball of cotton than a frozen stick figure.” That was her own little joke. While she wasn’t obese, Jess knew she wasn’t exactly thin either. She was… healthy. At least that’s how she phrased it, maybe she had a few extra pounds, but the teen ignored them. If the TSA were jerks, then she’d just have to be jerky right back. Sure they’d touch, prod, and pat, but she could toss snark out at them like a blade.

She listened, while attempting to keep pace with his long-legged stride; though the view from behind wasn’t bad. It looked amazing, almost as amazing as his front. The way those slacks curved…

Focus! Jess reprimanded herself. Stephen had been saying something, what had he said, had he asked something? Wait, no, he’d… said she’d gotten him.

“Totally.” Grinning up at him, at that amazing chiseled jaw and eyes that warmed. It was a wonder he didn’t get sent out all the time. And a pitty he wouldn’t stay around all the time either. They were standing next to each other again, waiting for the elevator and she had another moment of daydreaming about what it would feel like to have him hold her. Tell her it was her, and only her that he was sent for, explain that there had been others, but they were all ‘trials’ until he got to one. The[/I] one.

“Huh?” glancing down at the cat, Jess chuckled, “Right, his name’s Ouch. Because of the squashed face, looks like someone took a shovel to him a few too many times. Don’tcha think?” Holding the carrier up for him to see, the doors to the elevator announced it’s arrival and Jess cursed them silently. Following Stephen in she leaned against the back wall.

She didn’t know why they had a gift shop, but the most likely reason she said aloud. “I figure it’s for the people who come to visit sick relatives and then feel guilty about not having something for them so they pick something up there. Not like people don’t figure it out, ya know?”

When the elevator deposited them on the first floor, Jess stepped out as quickly as she could. Elevators were one of those things that she tolerated, but only barely. She could keep her exposure inside them, but was always quick to exit.

“They should totally have signs up, kind of like malls do. Ya, know? Anyway, what’s going to happen when we get to Vermont? Are they going to toss uniforms at me and pretend like I’m ‘one of the family’ or some crap like that? Do my grades transfer or do I have to start over? What about tuition, I don’t have anything left.”