OOM: Suite 130

[watching_you]

Veronica leads Mills through the labyrinthine corridors of the Milliways guest area until, eventually, they reach the right hallway.

"This place can be a bit confusing at times," she offers apologetically. "Things have a tendency to move. But I'm right up here --"

She cuts off, stopping short. This hallway's not empty.

Super.

Comments

[watching_you]

"Getting you to be complimentary was actually the motivation behind feeding you those shots in the first place. Lo, my evil plan is complete."

She cackles, diabolically, as they reach the street corner; the driver of a passing car shoots her a confused look as he speeds past.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

He quirks an eyebrow at her, still amused. "Really? You could have just asked, y'know."

"Next time, save the liquor for when you have hard questions."

[watching_you]

"What, you want hard questions now?"

The evil does not fade from her grin.

"Give me five minutes. I'll give you some hard questions."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"Nope. Too late. You wanted compliments. You got compliments."

He presses his lips together, mock stern, eyes on the wooden barricades that mark the end of the block, and the beginning of the farmer's market.

"Too bad. I bet you could come up with some interesting questions."

[watching_you]

"You bet right." Lightly, "Fine. I'll save 'em up for next time."

She nods ahead. "Our destination?"

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"You're good," he teases. "Yes, in fact."

Mills smiles and nods to a flower vendor, who waves back. He's been here before. He stops and fishes in his pocket, coming out with a money clip. "Yeah, gimme one of those."

When he turns back, he hands Veronica a bright yellow sunflower. "Roses are so passée," he deadpans, giving her a little wink.

[watching_you]

She seems genuinely flustered at this action.

"Oh -- no, you don't have to do that. Really. I don't --"

Looking uncertain, she takes it from him anyway.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"Yes, yes you do." He takes her hand and puts it back in the crook of his arm. "Now, shush."

[watching_you]

Veronica continues along mutely for a little while. This, she supposes, must be what being romanced is like.

It's not terrible.

"Um. So."

Beat.

"Food?"

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"Right this way." He knows his way around the small market, and quickly buys the produce he was looking for.

"See anything you like?" He gestures vaguely to the baker's booth, piled high with fresh baked loaves and rolls.

[watching_you]

As he proceeds through the market, she dawdles along behind, taking her time. She smells things, touches things. Watches the people. There's something energizing about being part of a crowd like this, and Veronica's going to enjoy every minute of it.

She catches up to him at last by the bread.

"You're going to make me choose? It all looks fantastic." She takes a deep breath. "I don't even want to eat it. I just want to smell it."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"Fine," he grins, pointing to a loaf of French bread. He pays the baker, and juggles his purchases as he tries to pocket his change.

"I never remember to bring a bag. Or a market basket, like they do in France. Have I forgotten anything?"

He shuffles the bags. Tomatoes, fresh basil, mozzarella, limes.

Limes?

[watching_you]

She laughs.

"Planning something, are you? Because I'm not sure I..."

Her voice trails off as she looks past him, and frowns. Her demeanour instantly shifts, shoulders squared, spine straight; she pushes her purse and sunflower into Mills' arms, piling them on top of the other bags.

"Hold this for a sec, will you? Thanks."

Without waiting for a response she pushes past. She sidesteps a young couple, three teenage boys with skateboards, and a woman with an oversized handbag, until eventually she comes up behind a man a vintage army jacket.

In one smooth movement she has taken his wrist and pushed it up his back while shoving him against the nearest booth. Bottles of jam rattle, and one falls to the ground. From the surrounding crowd there comes a shocked cry, most loudly from the big-purse woman (who shrieks) and from the man himself (who shouts obscenities at Veronica).

To the panicked jam-stall owner, she says calmly, "I'll pay for that."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

Mills watches intently, his mind cataloguing details like others might read a newspaper.

His first instinct is to move, but he checks that, barely. She seems to have the threat in hand, but he's ready to drop everything and assist if the guy gives her any resistance whatsoever. He watches as she retrieves a large leopard spotted wallet from the guy's pocket and hands it to the woman with the big purse.

Oh well done, Agent Mars, he thinks.

[watching_you]

Handbag woman immediately starts freaking out for a whole different reason. Veronica ignores her.

"What the hell, lady?" the man shouts. As he attempts to struggle she slides his elbow a little higher up his back, just enough that his shoulder is straining in its socket.

"Haven't you heard? Crime doesn't pay, all that jazz."

Through gritted teeth, "What are you, some kind of cop or something?"

"As a matter of fact I'm --" Veronica cuts herself off. This isn't her world: waving a badge around might lead to a different sort of difficult question. "-- just a concerned citizen," she finishes lamely.

(Meanwhile one of the skater teens whispers to his friends, "Cool!")

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

At this point, Mills has handed off the armload of their stuff to the baker for safekeeping and is now joining Veronica.

"May I?" She passes him off like a pro.

He takes the guy by the nape of the neck and the locked wrist and leans in to speak in a low voice.

"I fall into the 'or something' category and you and I are going to walk the half block to the end of the market, and you're going to leave under your own power. And if I ever see you here again? We'll have this discussion again. And you won't leave under your own power. Are we clear?"

The man whimpers as Mills begins to move him.

"Good. I thought so."

[watching_you]

As Mills takes over arm wrestling duty, Veronica finds herself facing a stunned crowd of onlookers. Oh my. Time to run interference.

The woman with the purse is still looking frightened, so Veronica takes her hand. Loudly enough to distract from any threats of violence happening behind her, she says, "I'm sorry that happened. But you're being very brave."

To the crowd at large, "Isn't she brave?" And she starts clapping. The collected group of people picks it up and turns it into a gentle round of applause, all attention now focused on the woman.

Now it's just street theatre.

The man at the jam booth waves Veronica off paying, so by the time Mills gets back she's attempting to juggle all of their bags again, purse slung over one arm, produce gathered in her arms, flower held between her teeth like she's an incredibly awkward salsa dancer.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

Mills stalks back, eyes on the crowd, concerned that pickpockets never work solo. The air around him seems electrified as he returns to her side, taking the produce and smirking at her, shaking his head.

"Next time, a little communication?" He quirks an eyebrow at her, painfully aware of all the bystanders now gawking at him.

[watching_you]

With her arms freed up, she takes the flower from her mouth and quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Every second counts. I knew you'd have my back if anything came up."

She gestures with her head, indicating they should continue on.

"At any rate, I don't intend to make a habit out of breaking up petty crime every time we're on a -- a field trip."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"Good," he growls, clearly relieved to be moving on, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"Your subtle style might just land us on the five o'clock news, and -- that would not be optimal, if you take my meaning."

He gestures down a side alley, watching their six to make sure they weren't followed. "A little shortcut," he explains.

[watching_you]

Her laugh is cynical.

"The news? Nah. Not enough blood. This is L.A., right?"

She twirls the sunflower, sniffing it.

"Within an hour half the witnesses will swear it was me mugging him."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"I'm not so sure about that. Beautiful girl fights crime in local farmer's market? It's a classic fluff piece. But no, you handled it just fine. Turning the focus away from you was rather clever."

The alley takes a turn back toward the boulevard, passed some dumpsters, a stack of empty pallets and the back door of a restaurant, where a scruffy little dog barks and wags at them.

Mills shifts the produce to another hand as they emerge onto the sidewalk, so he can offer his arm again. "I think the tequila's worn off."

[watching_you]

As he mentions the tequila she glances up at him. "Kicking ass can do that," she says. "I hope nothing else has worn off."

She quickly glances away, blushing slightly, and slips her hand into his arm again.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

If she hadn't had a hand on his arm, she never would have felt the hesitation in his step. There is a significant pause before he answers. A vintage Chevy drives by, windows rolled down to appreciate the warm spring day and share the deep thumping bass with the entire street.

Mills watches as it rolls passed, and she feels him sigh, a modicum of tension fading. "On the contrary," he rumbles.

[watching_you]

"Oh."

Veronica bites her lip, and for once, she can't think of anything to say.

But she does lean her head against his shoulder once again.