2011 05 31: Getting To Know You

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Mission Name: Getting To Know You
Date of Mission: May 31, 2011
Locale: Central Park - Manhattan, NY

Lance makes good on his promise to meet with Jezebel after she gets off work; the two have a nice origin story chit chat.

jezebel lance

With the rest of the work day behind them, most of the people in the city are at home or out enjoying the night. Lance is standing outside the Starbucks at 10:30 just as they had agreed on. He's changed out of his suit, dressed down in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt. Nevermind that they're still designer clothes. He leans against the building, watching people come and go past him as he waits for Jezebel to finish up.

After the two finally meet up, Lance walks with her down the sidewalk. As they walk, he makes casual conversation along the way, finally ending up at Central Park. Once their alone in the park, the conversation topic changes. "So, what do you know about Alpha Helix?"

"Oh, I'd assume just about as much as you do," Jezebel says underneath her breath before she chuckles lowly. "I know that y'all are a research and development company of sorts. Medical. Or at least I hope so. 'S what they told me when I signed up for that research." Jezebel still smells of the frothy coffee drinks that she has so diligently been trained to prepare. Her hair is pulled into a low ponytail and she's still wearing her work uniform, though she's sans apron/buttons right now. In her hand is a coffee from her work, smelling like perhaps it has something a little stronger in it. "And what about you? How long have you been with them?"

Lance smirks at her reply, nodding his head slightly. "That's what I thought." He says in turn, glancing around him as she continues to speak. He only looks back to her as she asks her question, his eyes giving her an appraising look for a moment. "Going on six years now since I first entered their training program. I even knew the person responsible for their little black mark on their record." Who he is talking about should be obvious for anyone in Division.

"Almost six for me too. Came into it just before my eighteenth birthday." Jezebel drops her Southern accent, looking more mildly relieved than anything not to have to use it. She purses her lips and eyes Lance. Her facial expressions take on a new bent, seeming to be more critical and observant than previously. "I didn't know her. But I know of her. I was glad I didn't know her when it all came out in the wash. I can't say I'm too scared that she's out here though. Doesn't concern me, unless she comes around the corner and starts shooting suddenly." Jezebel looks toward the corner with a vague smirk, shaking her head.

Lance smirks and nods as he looks at her when she drops the accent. "Yeah, that's something I've always had a nervous pension for. Who knows where she is and where she'll strike next. While we weren't exactly friends, we weren't enemies either." He says, his French accent becoming more prominent as he drops the American accent. Though he's lived in the States long enough for him to be understood by most anyone. "How'd they get you?" He thinks for a moment before he adds, "Six years… I'm surprised that in that time, we haven't met sooner." He smirks. "Big company I suppose."

Jezebel nods to him in understanding, listening to his French accent a little more carefully. "I guess the important thing to remember is that she's not after us per se, but after Division. I know that doesn't mean she wouldn't go through us if necessary though." The woman shakes her head and reaches up to scratch at her dark brown hair, smiling at him. "Big company indeed. I admit I keep to myself more than most. I've flown the straight and narrow since 'graduation'. My skills are a little more specialized anyway." She pauses as she considers his question to her, obviously hesitating to answer. "I was being sent to a juvenile detention hall for the remainder of my juvenile years… which would be have about six months is all. They faked a car wreck. Next thing I knew, I was at headquarters." Her voice is kept quiet enough that someone would really have to strain their ears to hear what she was talking about — and chances are if they did, they'd be mostly clueless.

Lance nods in agreement about Nikita. "Well, you're right. Hopefully she won't hold a grudge against me." He says with a soft chuckle before he glances towards her sideways as they walk along the path. "They faked a plane crash for me. Had just robbed a bank for a ton of cash too." He says, shaking his head. "Didn't even have to use a weapon to do it either. Boarded my getaway jet for a non-extradition country to retire." He smirks and looks back ahead of them, the volume of his voice lowering to match hers as they talk about the job. "Division trained me from there to remove headaches that they get."

"Plane crash? That's pretty high scale." Jezebel lets out the briefest of laughs, shrugging her shoulders non-chalantly. "They have a lot of headaches," she finally says to him after a long moment of silent walking and breathing. "I've never been much for embezzlement shenanigans myself." There's another quiet moment in conversation there before she says, "I had a problem setting fires. I found some dynamite and lit it too close to my foster family's house. I was already on thin ice, but that's another long story. They wanted to press charges and I'd just screwed up my last chance. Division was a whole different ball park." She doesn't go into any detail, though she does grin at him slowly. "How were your first weeks with Amanda?"

Lance nods his head as he looks at her. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking too. At least I was able to keep the money I stole." He says as he motions towards a bench they're coming up to. "So you're a pyro then? Just don't torch anything of mine and we'll be fine." He says, the tone of his voice shows he's joking. He lets out a sigh at the mention of Amanda. "It was fine as far as the etiquette training as it was mostly just a refresher, but the other stuff we tended to butt heads here and there. I didn't like opening up so much."

There's another breath of relief from Jezebel when she sees the bench, moving over to it in order to rest her legs. Keeping up with two jobs is bad enough, but when one of them requires you to stand for nearly nine hours a day with meager breaks in between, on top of being a world-class spy… "I've been called a pyro before. But firestarter has always sounded better to me somehow. Aside from that, bombs, detonations, explosions… anything boom related, I'm your girl. And don't worry, I've never made my fire-setting personal for anyone but me." She lets out a chuckle at Lance's description of Amanda, nodding her head in agreement. "Gotta love Amanda. Always picking your brain… she's good though."

Lance moves over to the bench as she sits down, taking a seat next to her and turning to face her. "Well, if any of my jobs call for a demo expert, then I'll know who to call. If you need anyone disappeared, I'm your guy." He says with a smirk. "Yeah. Amanda is good at what she does and I can understand why they keep her around, but there's a point where you just wanna say 'Alright already! Stop bugging me and come back tomorrow. There's only so much you can take." He chuckles and looks towards her. "When do you go to HQ? I tend to stay away from there when I can, but I usually go to the shooting range when I need the practice."

"Tell me about it. But I think she likes that. I think she gets off on making other people uncomfortable, especially when she can lord it over them in the 'I know you so much better than you know yourself' way." Jezebel takes a long drink of her coffee and looks around the park, eyes scanning the premises for anyone she might deem suspicion — or anyone walking a little too close to the bench. "Not often. I find that after you graduate it's harder to find sparring partners, but there's always usually an unlucky recruit or two hanging around to taste my wrath. I'm more of a hand-to-hand girl, myself. I could disarm someone, but shoot outs…" The way she trails off seems to indicate that they are definitely not the brunette's specialty.

Lance chuckles. "Guns are easier than hand-to-hand, I'll admit. Hand-to-hand it's more personal, but with a gun, you won't die as fast." He smirks as he glances around the park. "But, since you've got someone now in Division that knows that you are too, let me give you my number. You can give me a call if you need a sparring partner or want some firearms training." He rattles off his number for her, figuring she has enough of a memory to remember the number if she's made it this long in Division. "It'd be nice to have someone that I can actually be myself around."

When Lance offers his number to her, Jezebel takes her cell phone out of her pocket and flips it open in a practiced motion that she undoubtedly employs when Division is calling about a mission. She puts the number in at not quite break neck speed, but her cell phone disappears into her pocket once again. Notably, she doesn't offer hers back. Lance would recognize the cell phone as one of the standard issue Division ones. "I didn't think that being yourself was exactly an option after Division has stripped your identity away. But it would to drop the accent every now and again. Usually the only place I can do it is at Division… and when Birkhoff sees me in the halls, he tends to badger me about practicing my computer skills." She rolls her eyes up to the sky at that, smirking.

Lance nods. "Yeah. I don't know which is harder. Putting on a fake Eastern accent or an American one. It is very hard to hide the French accent." He does notice the phone and the fact that she doesn't give up her number, but doesn't make anything of it. He nods and chuckles. "Yeah, I don't like going in because of who I might run into and what I may need to work on. I just like to wait for the phone calls."

"Waiting for the phone calls is the most pain-free method of submitting to Division, I find." Jezebel agrees, reaching up to rub at her eyes a little bit before she yawns. "I don't mind mimicking for a mission. You know, just for the duration, which usually isn't long when you have to make things go boom pow. Doing this accent for the past few years day in and day out hasn't done me any favors, I can tell you that much right now." She laughs quietly. "I wonder if we get a ten year plaque or something if we make it that long without being canceled…" Jezebel wonders aloud. They're both a little more than halfway there, after all.

Lance thinks about the plaque for a moment before he shakes his head. "I don't know about a plaque. I think it's more like a chip they give you in Alcoholics Anonymous. That or a pat on the back and get told to get back to work." He chuckles at that before he looks at her and smirks. "I don't know, I think that the accent kinda worked for you. Was pretty sexy to me." He says, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Jezebel snickers first at Lance's expectation of what would happen after ten years of successful service at Division, nodding her head. She snickers more when he mentions her accent. "Well, at least you're direct about that much. You wouldn't believe the sheer amount of guys around here that want to perv on a girl because they think she's a dumb country bumpkin. I can't even believe guys are still using the 'modeling job' line. It's pathetic. For the record, your French accent is much better than mine — but you are native. I might could do with a few lessons sometime, if you're interested. Maybe if I listen to it enough, it'll rub off."

Lance laughs softly at the guys who hit on her. "You could be a model. Why don't you come over and we'll take some pictures." He says, putting on a California surfer accent which is pretty close to the real thing. He drops the accent and returns to his normal voice. "That's too cliche. I prefer the whole private jet and acting as a playboy billionaire to get the girls. Plus chicks dig the accent."

She laughs and stands up from the bench. "I didn't know that line worked on girls either, but I guess when you have the resources to back it up…" Jez trails off there and shrugs her shoulders, taking another drink of her coffee. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Lucas — but unfortunately, I should go home and try to wind down before I've gotta head back into the 'office' tomorrow." Her Southern drawl is back and she looks like the mostly unassuming down-home girl she was before they'd met up. "Thanks for the walk. I'll call ya soon."

Lance smiles and nods. "It works a lot." He says as he stands with her as she does, nodding his head and puts on his cover accent again. "It was nice to have a short break from duty. I look forward to seeing you again. I'll be sure to swing by your 'work' to get my coffee." He says as he smiles. "I'll talk to you later." He says, offering a wave as she heads off, watching her walk away for a moment before he heads off in the opposite direction.

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