Log | Titus and Vanessa

[t_grisborne]

He waited for the guy to stop convulsing before giving a tired sigh and turning toward the door. It had happened - they'd got the wrong man before, but he had a good feeling about this one. And hey, what was triumph without a little effort?

He left the chamber and kicked the door casually closed behind him, leaving their prisoner slumped against the chair and trying to catch his breath. He knew anyone behind the two-way mirror would have seen and heard everything, but he entered the observation room as if his information was fresh.

"The guy's playin' hardball. You're positive we got the right one?"

He was. He just wanted to make sure they were all on the same page.

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[t_grisborne]

It didn't take too long. Titus didn't even need to look at the note, just intently into the guy's water-filled eyes. He was a wreck. Whatever Nessa had written on that paper had done the goddamn trick. And of course it would.

Eventually there was a voice in his ear and he tucked the paper back into his pocket before heading out.

His stomach grumbled as he made his way down the hall, step light and satisfied as he passed glass partitioned offices and heavy duty doors. Finally he reached the last office; the Master Office, as he liked to call it. Damn it was a sweet office!

He knocked and waited for the instruction to enter before pushing the door open and sliding on in.

"That went pretty well, huh?"

[xo_lazario]

"It could have gone better, but that's neither here nor there." Vanessa rifled through her paperwork, lifting a tablet to punch a few buttons, glance at a single sheet of paper, then punch a few more before setting everything down.

Looking up, she offered the wide, but primly-lipped smile of a teacher offering a nugget of wisdom to her pupil. "Things can always go better," she reminded him, clapping her hands together as if to say, moving along.

"Pizza night tonight, as I understand it. Did you want your usual, or were you going to branch out a bit tonight?"

[t_grisborne]

Titus feigned shock at the question and smirked "Wait..." he said, slouching over to the sofa and letting himself sink lazily into it. "You calling me boring?"

He bent one knee and reached down to unfasten his raised boot, totally ready to make himself completely comfortable. The office was like half a goddamn apartment, complete with large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.

"What're you getting?" he asked, toeing off the now unlaced item of clunky footwear. It landed with an audible thud and he got to work on the other, sliding further into the couch as he went.