"I'm not sure exactly where it's docked. Alaska, obviously, that's where he lives, but…" she shrugged. "I'm sure it's registered. I remember him complaining about having to rent the dock space because the guy changed the rent on him."
She signed and leaned against the window, letting the warmth of the sun soak through her and make her feel a little more human. A chill ran down her spine at the change in temperature, and it made her realize, perhaps a little late, that her hands were shaking. She stretched her long fingers and wiggled them, trying to force the muscles to relax, but when she held them flat again, they still shook.
She could practically hear her therapist, Annie's voice in the back of her mind. "Of course you're shaking, dear. You just had a traumatic experience. You have to remember to take care of yourself, you can't just push through forever." Well, perhaps Annie had a point, but how was she supposed to stop now? She couldn't exactly have a breakdown in the car with an FBI agent she barely knew. And besides, she'd already cried off all her makeup in the office. How long ago had that been? It felt like hours, already.
"This is all so surreal," she murmured, more to herself than to Johnny. She wrapped her arms around herself and tucked her hands under her upper arms to hide the shaking. "So...what's next? Do we really just hide in a hotel somewhere and wait?"
Post by Johnny Cordello on Jan 31, 2021 3:29:33 GMT
He really needed to speak to Danica again, as much as he was dreading it. Yet, besides filling her in on what Marie just told him, what else did he expect to say? She would like brush him off or hang up on him the moment she got what she wanted...if it would even be enough.
It was strange, because the woman wasn't a fool. Danica should know that Marie wasn't going to just willingly betray her family, not even for a pretty face. Johnny already understood she wasn't the type, because she was smart and loyal. The Warden must have family issues to not grasp that concept. Then again, his own family life was pretty fucked up and even he understood it. He envied it.
Why did he get the feeling that things were only going to get worse? One day should have been enough to satiated Danica's curiosity. If Marie didn't give them anything, then they should move on. As simple as that. She wasn't a usual contact or informant for the agency- she was just a civilian. But no, for some damn reason, he was given three days to definitely find something out.
Johnny nodded to her, his eyes still on the road. "That's fine. That's good," he replied, even if she didn't know where in Alaska the boat might be. Then, he forced on that amused smirk, only chancing a quick glance over to her. "You did well. Many people would have been screaming their heads off a lot more." It was an attempt to lighten the mood.
Marie murmured something and he missed it, but her question had him looking a bit embarrassed. "Unfortunately. But hey, there's a bar, there's room service..." Was any of that appealing to her? For him, it was heaven. Not having to do anything, not having to cook when someone else could bring him food, and then binge-watch whatever shows he's been unable to catch up on? Perfection. "Order whatever you want on the TV..." That smirk was almost sly. "It's not on your dime."
She did well? It didn't feel like it...but she supposed he would know better than she would. He'd done all this before, maybe dozens of times. That was actually a little bit comforting; he'd been here before, and he'd come out alright. If he could do it, so could she, right? And they wouldn't have sent him out to do it again if he had a habit of letting those he was assigned to get shot.
Being cooped up in the hotel should have been soothing to her--normally that would be just fine with her. After all, she stayed in most nights anyway, when she was at home. That part wasn't the issue. It was the waiting, that bothered her. To be unable to act, just trapped like a fly in a spider's web, waiting for someone to kill her...it set her teeth on edge.
And was it better or worse that she'd have Johnny constantly there to watch over her? His smirk when he suggested ordering whatever she wanted from pay-per-view was almost suggestive, or was that just his face? Yeah, it was probably just his existence that blurred the line between normal and suggestive. She blushed slightly and looked back out the window, willing herself to relax and quit being creepy. He was probably just excited about expensing whatever he wanted to the agency, not trying to suggest she order something racy. And off went her brain taking things the wrong way. She almost wished she'd been assigned someone a bit less good looking, so it would be easier to think. But really, would she get rid of him so easily? He was growing on her, so far.
"That doesn't sound so bad, I guess. I have been meaning to take some time off work..." She paused, then turned, actually shifting her whole posture towards him, as something occurred to her. "You know, I don't think I said it, but thank you. I know it's just an assignment, but I appreciate you looking out for me."
Last Edit: Jan 31, 2021 7:09:22 GMT by Marie Walsh
Post by Johnny Cordello on Feb 11, 2021 4:57:50 GMT
The whole ploy was to make Marie feel like she was in danger. Well, she was now, unfortunately, it just wasn't because of those gunmen that had chased them down briefly. Not technically. No, right now, Danica had it out for her, for him, and apparently anyone else that looked at her the wrong way these days. It was unsettling still, and Johnny wished he knew what the fuck was actually going...because this definitely wasn't what was wrong. There was more to the story that he wasn't being told.
He didn't like being in the dark.
Yet, if a little bit of information about a damn boat might satiate the Warden's thirst for blood, then so be it. He'd message her the moment he got Marie settled. And what if this wasn't enough? What if Danica showed up with her lackies in a couple of days, what then? What would he do? It wasn't as though Johnny hadn't done some fucked up things for the agency, but this woman was innocent. He knew she was. Was he supposed to sit back and let whatever happen just happen? At the same time, he wasn't likely to risk his own neck like that, either. He wasn't that kind of a hero...
'I havebeen meaning to take some time off work...'
Her words brought him back to the present and he blinked, drawing them to a stop at another red light. The hotel was up ahead a few blocks, so they weren't far. Still, he couldn't stop from looking around them, glancing in the mirrors for a tail...and it wasn't for show. Right now, he was actually a little concerned that Danica had the team trailing him, if only to remind him of his job. He knew his fucking job, but involving a cleaner hadn't been a part of it.
Johnny grinned faintly, forcing these thoughts away. "I have been dying for some damn time off," he told her, sounding glad for this. And that certainly wasn't a lie. When she turned in her seat to face him, his attention drifted back over to her for a few seconds before he caught the light change in his peripheral. Once they were moving again, he was brushing the small amount of guilt he actually had inside away, offering her a small smile. It slowly drifted into one that appeared a little more genuine. "It's what I do," he told her gently. Well, it's what he originally signed up for with the agency. Johnny slowly learned that it wasn't always the case- protecting the innocent and the country.
After a couple of seconds, he added, "But, you're welcome." It was nice to hear gratitude, he realized. If an agent ever received any sort of praise, it was blunt and cold. They were meant to do their job, so ACIS didn't often feel like their people needed to be thanked or appreciated in such a way. They were just good, little soldiers.
Always obeying orders...
Pulling into the parking lot and into an open spot, he shut the car off and climbed out. "You gonna be alright to walk a little bit?" It wasn't the classiest of hotels, but it was far from a shithole, so he figured carrying a woman in through the lobby would detract the wrong attention. Whenever she was ready to go, though, he'd walk alongside her at her chosen pace, hovering in case she needed any assistance.
It would only be a few moments before he told her to sit in one of the chairs if she wanted while he went to the front desk. Johnny appeared to be speaking with the clerk quietly, leaning on the counter with that telltale smirk. Fortunately, the room right next to his was available and it wasn't difficult to throw that on ACIS' shiny account. It was also a king-sized suite, so hopefully, she would be comfortable, and he'd still be able to keep an eye on her just next door.
She noticed that he shrugged off her thanks at first. She didn't mind--she tended to do the same thing, telling people "of course" whenever they thanked her for things or insisting that it was no trouble. She was always the type to think that if she could give something, she should. But she hoped he knew that she was serious about appreciating it. It seemed like maybe that caught up with him after a minute since he added 'but you're welcome.' That made her smile.
The hotel they chose was a normal looking one, which was fine by her--she'd have been worried if they chose something crazy. The government had better places to throw its money, after all. When Johnny asked if she'd be okay, she was surprised for a moment. Of course, she was! And even if she wasn't, she would grin and bear it. Surely he'd realized that by now? Even so, she just nodded.
It definitely hurt to put her weight on that foot, and she was a bit worried she'd opened the wound again because it seemed slick inside the shoe, but there wasn't much she could do about that. She was relieved to take a seat while she waited. Her fingers itched to take out her cellphone and flip through Twitter or Pinterest--she hated to be unoccupied. Too much time to worry. But rather than get on social media, she turned off her phone and took out the battery and SIM card, slipping both into the little zipper pocket where she kept tampons. If there was someone looking for her, she didn't want to give them a flag to follow.
That done, she watched Johnny at the counter, laughing softly when she saw how dazzled the girl behind the counter was. Well, at least she wasn't the only one. With a tired sigh, she let her eyes close as she leaned back into the chair and forced herself to breathe slowly. She was safe. Things were going to be alright. Whatever was going on with Lina, Uncle Elliott was looking out for her. All she could do now was wait.
Not much later she heard movement and sat up sharply, all efforts to slow her heartrate ruined. She needn't have worried--it was just Johnny coming back with a pair of room keys.
"Um, can we ask if they have a first aid kit? Or at least some bandages? I should ah, probably clean up." A brief pause, and then she added, "Oh, and we should probably get your jacket soaking in some cold water. Blood will set in if you don't get it right away.
Post by Johnny Cordello on Feb 21, 2021 5:31:20 GMT
The moment he turned from the young clerk, his expression dropped to neutral. It was almost like a switch, maybe even robotic as he tiredly ran a hand down his face, making his way back over to Marie. His features softened, at least, appearing slightly more genuine before she was asking something he probably already should have. See, he had a first aid kit in his car- his car...which wasn’t here. There wasn’t a kit in that shitty rental outside.
”Oh yeah, right,” he murmured with a snap of his fingers, pointing at her as if to say “good thinking”. Johnny drifted back to the desk, casually cutting in front of a couple who were trying to get a room in order to make his request. Laura, the receptionist, promised to have one sent up right away. With another quick thank you, he returned to Marie. ”They’ll send one up...and I’m not worried about the jacket,” he gave a delayed answer, especially since he had thrown it into the backseat of the shit machine.
Johnny offered her a hand up if she needed it before leading her towards the elevator, considering he wasn’t going to make her hobble up a flight of stairs. Once inside, he pressed the button for the next floor. ”Should have all the amenities you need. I’ll see what I can do about whatever else.” He paused, those blue eyes nonchalantly looking her up and down just once as the elevator doors shut. ”I suppose you’ll need clothes.” He almost smirked at that.
Alright, his eyes might’ve crinkled at the corners.
After a moment, the doors opened again and he led her down an adjacent hallway. ”That one’s yours,” he said, gesturing. ”I’m right next door.” Still, he was pulling out her room key to unlock the room, stepping halfway in through the doorway for a quick examination. It was old habit, honestly. Johnny knew there was no one really after her (not exactly), but he supposed it kept the act going.
Finally, he stepped aside so she could take a look at her prison for the next couple of days.
Marie took Johnny's offered hand to get up, grateful to have the extra help with keeping her balance to keep her off her injured foot. Inside the elevator, she leaned against the wall to ease the pressure.
She nodded along about amenities, but honestly, she wasn't all that worried about that part of things. It was difficult to think about the basics when so many other questions were rattling around in her mind.
She definitely caught the way his eyes drifted over her, though, and she dropped her own gaze back to her feet as her face turned bright red. There were about a dozen ways she could take that, and 10/12 were suggestive. She needed to calm down. Maybe amenities were a good thing--she clearly needed a cold shower and a nap, because she was not thinking clearly.
"Rrright. Good idea," she stammered.
She didn't think she'd ever been so grateful for an elevator opening in her life. She followed him out and down the hall, clutching the strap of her bag so hard her knuckles were turning white as he opened the door and checked the room before letting her in.
It looked nice. There was a little sitting area with a couch and a desk, and then a big bed and a television. Maybe she'd just watch some truly terrible reality TV while she was trapped here? It was a guilty pleasure of hers to watch those romance ones--the Bachelor, Baggage, Millionaire Matchmaker… She knew they were terrible and fake, but… Well, it was interesting, and it was nice to think there was love in the world, even for some seriously crazy people.
She slipped off her shoes, set her bag on the desk, and pulled out a pile of homework papers and her trusty purple pen.
"I'm alright if you need to get other things done. I'm just going to grade some papers." She held up the stack of music theory worksheets and gave him a nervous smile before taking them to the bed with her. "Might be the first time ever I won't get distracted in the middle of the stack."
She tried to pretend he wasn't there as she moved the pillows around so she could lay on her stomach with her arms and head propped on them so she could grade comfortably. At home, she'd have done this on the carpet, with some old 50's record playing...but a hotel bed wasn't so bad. She climbed up carefully, trying not to make any moves that would move her skirt up as she flopped onto the pillows. She glanced back at Johnny over her shoulder and smiled before getting to work.
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2021 16:35:39 GMT by Marie Walsh
Post by Johnny Cordello on Mar 2, 2021 1:30:05 GMT
Johnny wished he could just settle in and relax. Well, he could, if Danica would be placated enough with the information about Walsh's boat. Something told him she wouldn't be, at least not fully, but he could only hope. It would really be great if he could order some food and just put on some cheesy horror movie on the television until he passed out for the night.
He remained in the doorway as she immediately made herself at home, deciding to grade papers out of all things. This garnered an amused expression on his face, his shoulders lightly rising in a quick, quiet huff of laughter. People had been shooting at her, she stepped on glass, and yet she's still doing her job. He wasn't sure why it surprised him, but it did, and it was kind of endearing even if any sane person would take this time to relax. Or a lazy person...like him.
And he was going to enjoy every second of that laziness.
A slight smirk, he nodded. "If you need anything, just give a couple knocks on that door," he told her, pointing towards the bolted door that connected their two rooms. He assumed someone would be up with a medical kit shortly, but for now, he wasn't going to disturb her. He also had another phone call to make.
Quietly, he slipped out and shut the door behind him before drifting down to his own room. Once inside, he was fishing out his cell with a sigh of annoyance and dialed the devil woman again. Johnny could already hear how tense she was, but he did well to hide his own aggravation and informed her of Pyro's boat. It was a lead, it was still something, and Danica sounded appeased for now. How long that would last was anybody's guess.
Hanging up, there came a knock at the door. It was one of the staff with the medkit and he quietly thanked them before heading back to Marie's room. His knuckles rapped gently. "It's me."
By the time Johnny had closed the door behind him, Marie was already humming under her breath and lightly swinging her feet as she made her way through the first worksheet. Five minutes later, she was softly singing. It didn't really occur to her that hotels had awfully thin walls, seeing as she hadn't stayed in one in years--anyone nearby could probably hear her.
"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream. Make him the cutest that I've ever seen. Give him two lips, like roses and clover, and tell him tha--"
The knock on the door startled her enough that she jolted her pen, making an ugly mark across a student's paper. She swore as she capped the pen and hopped to her feet to hurry to the door. One bad step had her pulling at the cut, and she cursed again, hopping on one foot for a moment as she recovered. She crossed the rest of the room walking half on her tiptoes, trying to avoid the still-aching cut on her foot. Once at the door she reached for the handle, then hesitated and flipped the little cover of the peephole so she could peer out. It was Johnny, with no one else in sight. With a sigh of relief, she let him in.
"You're back awfully fast," she commented lightly, then caught sight of the first-aid kit in his hand. "Oh! I'd assumed they'd bring it straight to me." She moved to take it. "I can handle the basics. My sister is a doctor, after all, so I picked up a few things here and there."
Honestly, she also felt guilty letting him take care of her, even just enough to look at it earlier. It wasn't his fault she'd been stupid and taken off her shoes, and it wasn't his job to clean up her messes, either. (Of course, there was also the fact that being vulnerable around him made her nervous, but she wasn't particularly ready to think about that one.)
Post by Johnny Cordello on Mar 14, 2021 22:58:08 GMT
He had hesitated for a moment on the other side of that door when he heard singing. It made him pause, and he leaned in a little more as if double-checking that it was Marie, smirking to himself when he realized what song it was. It was cute, really, and Johnny almost didn't want to interrupt her. However, he had a job to do and cheesy movies to watch, so...no time for anymore hesitation.
After a few moments she was opening the door, and that smirk grew into a relaxed grin. "Special delivery," he commented, waving that kit between them. Marie was reaching for it, and he found himself pulling it out of reach. "Maybe-" he started as he bypassed her to step inside the room. "But it's my job to keep an eye on you." Despite his words, he was showing a little bit less of the agent right now and more of just Johnny. No, he didn't have to treat her cut, but he was going to do it anyway.
"Have a seat, I'll be right there." Loosening his tie because he hated the feeling, he set the kit down on the table before he wandered his way towards the bathroom. He quickly rolled up his sleeves and grabbed for a washcloth; wetting it under the faucet real quick then wrung it out.
Johnny was quiet when he came back and rummaged through the kit to see what was available. From the quick glance earlier in the alley, the cut luckily wasn't deep so this should be relatively painless. It would likely just irritate her for a little while.
"So...Mr. Sandman, huh?" he murmured, suppressing his lightly amused grin for all of three seconds.
"Hey!" Marie protested as he pulled the kit away from her and slipped into the room. The little game, combined with that self assured smile, gave her a brief flashback to elementary school when one of the boys had taken her hat. Rather than keep arguing, though, she simply sighed and shut the door behind him. She wouldn't win that argument, she could just tell.
She turned from bolting the door just in time to see him loosening his tie as he made his way into the bathroom. Well, then. Make yourself at home, she thought, trying to ignore the little flip her stomach had done.
Despite looking a little huffy about it, she sat down where he'd indicated. She could hear the faucet running, and then he was back. She waited silently with her hands folded in her lap, feeling inexplicably nervous as he rummaged through the kit. She kept her eyes carefully on his hands in the medkit, reluctant to meet his eye. Was it him making her feel this off balance? Or just everything that was going on?
His comment confused her for half a second, and she opened her mouth to say "what" before she realized what had happened. He'd heard her. She could feel her face turning as red as a tomato.
"W-well, yes. I like fifties music," she stammered. Her first instinct was to defend herself, but then she realized something. "Wait...you know that song?" she asked cautiously. "Do you just know it from the internet, or…?"
Last Edit: Mar 15, 2021 1:21:03 GMT by Marie Walsh
Post by Johnny Cordello on Mar 15, 2021 2:59:37 GMT
Nope. She wasn't going to win this one. The sooner he could make sure all was well, the sooner he could take that brief little "vacation" he was imagining, even if she was kind of amusing. Johnny had to remember why he was really here, aware that Danica could change her damn mind at any second and complicate things further.
The kit just had very simply basics. He managed to find some Neosporin and one of those large, squared band aides that should do the trick. This wasn't a life or death kind of wound, just an irritating and sore one, he imagined. He just had to make sure it was clean.
Bright eyes glanced sidelong to her to note how flustered she became, and he managed to mask most of his amusement. In truth, she had nothing to be embarrassed for- she had a great voice, what little he had been able to hear. At her question, though, his face softened a little before he was kneeling down in front of her; using the wet cloth to gently wipe the dirt from the bottom of her foot.
"It was one my mom used to sing a lot," Johnny answered after a long pause, almost as if he wasn't going to say anything. "I'm just a bit more familiar with 'Enter Sandman'." He chuckled quietly before he was surprising himself; trying to mimic Hetfield during that one particular part of the song where he half sang, half spoke in that deep, growly voice. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word... Y'know." It definitely wasn't as pretty a song as the other one, though.
The pause made her nervous, and she bit her lip as he moved to clean her injury. In the back of her mind, she started using one of her therapist's tricks to keep her mind busy: counting backward from two-hundred. If she was thinking about something else, her mind couldn't run away with a million and one ways to make her feel terrible about herself. But the longer he was quiet, the more nervous she got. Had she said something stupid? Or was he just feeling like they shouldn't really be chit-chatting since this was only because of some assignment?
Marie brightened up immediately when he answered about his mother. How cute! Maybe that was why he didn't want to say anything--was he worried that made him seem weak or something? His mention of the other song made her laugh. He did a good imitation of the song, too, and it had her wondering if he could sing more than that. He had a good voice, and she had half a mind to ask. But he seemed a bit shy about it, and she didn't want to push. Maybe another time, if it came up again.
"Believe it or not, I know that one too. Not all the words, but I recognize it." She smiled warmly at him. "You like classic rock then? I guess that makes sense, you don't seem like a pop kind of person. Justin Bieber probably gives you hives." She worried a little belatedly that perhaps teasing him was a bad idea. But...well, he seemed like a nice person, really. He'd started out playful when he came in this time, and even if she was flustered, she didn't really mind. It was nice to see him really smiling, not just being polite.
"Do you like Queen? Styx?" she tossed out a few that she listened to more regularly. "Ooh, here's a good one-- how do you feel about Aretha Franklin? Because if you don't like Respect we might have a problem."
Post by Johnny Cordello on Mar 17, 2021 2:17:09 GMT
Johnny had paused because he didn't often talk about himself or even his family. It was a bit of a sore subject, and although he loved his mother, his relationship with her was strained. She expected a lot from him, and yet, where was she when his father was being a total fucking dick? The moment he turned seventeen, he had left, only returning home every so often for holidays. When the man died, his visits had been a bit more frequent until a couple of years ago. Needless to say, it had been awhile, and a few phone calls here and there apparently weren't enough.
He didn't realize he was clenching his jaw at the memories, and it was Marie's laugh that kind of snapped him out of it. 'You like classic rock then?' Johnny hadn't meant to, but he definitely cringed at the mention of Beiber. "God, that whiny, little-" Maybe he shouldn't curse, so he cut his sentence short. He pulled his eyes from her and back to the task at hand. "Is it that obvious?" he mused with a ghost of a grin. It certainly was if someone ever rode with him in his own car, but was it blatantly written on his face?
Well, he supposed the mention of Metallica probably did it.
Queen? Styx? "Hell yeah," he added in lightly, tossing the washcloth aside before she was talking about Aretha Franklin. "Definitely. She's an all-time classic of soul, blues, rock...everythin'." Not that anyone would ever find him singing "Respect". At least not on purpose or sober. Maybe in the shower or when he was alone in his car. "So, is that what you do- teach music?" The agent recalled something along those lines in her file, but truthfully didn't completely remember.
Marie grew more and more excited with each agreement. She was thrilled to have guessed correctly based on just one song, and even more that he liked some of the same artists she did. Particularly Aretha, although she only got into that one when she needed a confidence boost. This was good! Knowing what kind of music someone liked was a window into their soul; after all, music was made to communicate emotions that normal speech could not.
"So, is that what you do- teach music?"
Marie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I teach Music Theory I to any major--that has two different sessions, one Monday/Wednesday, and one Tuesday/Thursday-- and then piano or guitar lessons for Music Majors, a Contemporary Music class, and I direct the Freshman Choir as well." She paused at the end of her list, looking a bit sheepish. "Now that I say it out loud, that's quite a lot...But I like to keep busy." She shrugged, then launched right into more.
"Anyway, I do teach some classic rock in my Contemporary class. We start at 1910 and work up--so the beginnings of ragtime, jazz, up into rock and roll, and then the rapid expansion from there. It's really quite amazing." She hardly realized she was gushing at this point; he'd gotten her going on her subject area. She was fully animated and talking with her hands, a major change from when they'd first met. "Did you know that a lot of current pop artists are actually taking their influences not from those just before them, but from the eighties again? Like Peter Gabriel and Elton John? It's pretty remarkable. The pop genre is really breaking up into several smaller ones and--"
Abruptly, and all at once, Marie realized she'd started to ramble. For an instant, she froze, and her eyes went wide. Then her hands flew to cover her mouth, although she pulled them away again a moment later to apologize. Her whole posture quickly wilted in on itself as if she were trying to make herself smaller, to take up less space. "I'm so, so sorry, I'm talking your ear off! You have more important things to do than listen to me go on about pop singers."