Miss Molly
It had been perhaps three hours since
Finch had encountered Molly Toombs in the park, walking alone through
the night with no protection evident. She wasn't even carrying a purse
that she could have hidden a gun or tazer in (though she was wearing
that jacket, to be fair, and a number of things could be stashed away in
there). Finch will have had enough time to go off and do other
things-- perhaps find someone to stalk and follow about until they find
their way someplace vulnerable.
Hopefully she didn't interrupt the prowl by calling, then.
He
didn't have her phone number, but she had his. Finch's phone rang with
an unrecognized number (Denver area code) across the screen.
Finch
He
answers not immediately, but after 3-4 rings. "Yes?" Not hello or his
name, but a one word greeting in the form of a question.
Miss Molly
"I have another question, Finch."
The
voice is familiar because it was a memorable part of the night.
Because he'd heard it already, parried with it, just hours ago. It's
Molly Toombs on the horn, and she had another question.
"If you'll
hear it, that is." This is added as a p.s., an afterthought. As
though she she realized that she had no idea how available the man was
to speak all at once. "Will you?"
Finch
Every
time that Molly has seen Finch he' been walking on two feet. She hasn't
seen him behind the wheel of a car or any kind of vehicle for that
matter. But now, in the background, she can hear the distinct sound of
music on a car radio and the tic tic tic of a blinker.
"Well, Molly. Hello again.." The car dings as he turns it off and the radio dies leaving his end quiet. "What's your question?"
Miss Molly
There
isn't much for background noise on Molly's end. The ambient sounds of
the city-- vehicles and voices and sirens in the distance. She was
outside someplace, but someplace that she wasn't being disturbed. It
sounded still, if nothing more.
"Why would you outright tell me that you're young still?"
Clearly
she got hung up on it after he walked away, sat stewing trying to
figure him out, and decided that fuck it she'd give him a call why not
use one of those business cards sometime anyways.
Finch
He's
quiet for a long series of moments. He's not breathing so she doesn't
even hear that through the receiver. "That's your question?" A pause,
"I told you because you needed to know. You don't seem the kind of woman
that would purposefully want me truly dead and that is exactly what
will happen if the wrong people take too much of an interest in me."
Miss Molly
"Well, yeah, but...,"
She
trailed off. The tone of her voice was stark, surprised. Clear as a
bell and without even a drop of the disgruntled inconvenience that he
was hearing from her before. He couldn't hear this to know this, but
Molly was currently sitting out on the balcony of her apartment,
diligently ignoring the cat and puppy both at the screen door wanting
very much to come join her. She wasn't going to deal with young animals
finding their way through gaps in railings and down a four story drop.
She
certainly hadn't expected that he was going to be trying to appeal to
her good nature. She wasn't sure why he assumed that she had one, given
that he already knew the sort of cahoots she was in and the kind of
people she was in them with.
"I mean, what am I gonna do to keep people from taking interest in you? And you're a vampire, why are you worried?"
Finch
Finch
is learning a great many things about hi life among the undead but he
understood the human condition in a way that he didn't Vampires. He
knew Molly was a nurse and it take someone with a caregiver personality
to do these things and the level of hurt and turmoil that was woven
through her aura wasn't something you'd see on a persons face like
Finch. Not even in his human life. So he made assumptions and reached
just a little. It's what Finch did.
"Well ...first, and most
important, you can't talk about me. And second, you could help me
understand who I need to or at least should, avoid." A pause, "Why do
you find this odd? Do you not value honesty?"
Miss Molly
He
was answered with a laugh, but it wasn't quite a reward. She wasn't
mocking him, no, but there was very little humor to the sound anyways.
Clearly she was laughing at the shitty situations she kept getting
herself into. A wooden chair creaked as Molly adjusted her curvy body
in it, leaning back and stretching legs up so she could prop her heels
on the railing of her balcony.
"Honey, the number of people that I don't tell other people about would overwhelm you."
She'd
reached for the beer on the table beside her and took a drink. He
hears a dog whine, and Molly shush it as well, quiet and away from the
phone receiver, before continuing on.
"I value it, where I find
it. I just see it very rarely. This whole time I've known about what
really exists I've only ever seen manipulation and had to treat
conversations like I'm fencing someone." ....why did you tell him that? She scowled heavily and put her beer back down.
"I'm
not nearly as well educated as you think I am, Finch." She probably
was, actually. She either doubted her own grasp of things or she was
bluffing, trying to throw him off the game just a little. "I'm not sure
that I really know who you want to avoid. I would just say 'fucking
everyone' if I were being smart about things."
Finch
He
listens to her laugh and he listens to her shushing an animal. "I try
to be honest when I can, sometimes that's not possible ...but it's been
refreshing with you. Let me ask you Molly, do you know a man named
Flood?"
Miss Molly
[Manipulation + Subterfuge, +WP (God damnit I need to buy this bitch some subterfuge and manipulation): WHAT WHO IS THAT GUY?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 7) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Finch
(Perception + Subterfuge (true motives specialty))
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Miss Molly
The
question leaves a black hole of silence. Molly had sucked in a small,
voiceless gasp of breath that was only audible as a sharp inhale and
held it. Her heart missed a beat, smacked against her ribs twice.
Mouth went dry. She realized she'd been quiet and astounded that he'd
picked the name up already for just a moment too long.
She tried to play the quiet off as her having thought the question over. "Mmmm.... No. That one doesn't sound familiar."
The
cadence was right. She could have been thoughtful and genuinely trying
to recall. But the gasp, the pause, and the hesitancy in the 'mmm' was
tell-tale. Finch was good at this. She was lying.
Finch
She
can hear him force air into his lungs and then push it out in what can
pass for nothing less than a sigh. "Molly." He says her name with a
heavy tone that's full of disappointment. "I thought we were getting
somewhere? I've been honest with you haven't I? When will you stop lying
to me?"
Miss Molly
Her answer was another laugh,
this one just as tight and uncomfortable as the one that had come
before. Less laughing at herself and her own misery this time, though.
More a panicked little sound because she wasn't too sure what to do.
Hanging up wouldn't do her much good, she was pretty sure. That would
just piss the guy off, and she so far had a really good track record of
not pissing vampires off.
"Do you know a man named Flood?"
She
let the question hang for half of a second, then followed up with a
miserable sounding: "Think about that, tell me how much you'd wanna
talk about how much you know him."
Finch
"You see,
these are the dangerous games we play. If I were the wrong person and I
wanted to get to Flood, you'd be an easy vehicle by which to do it.
There's lines drawn Molly, lines in the sand, and we have to be very
careful. Me ... I know Flood, just barely. But you shouldn't ever admit
that you do. Lie better." The car dings as he turns it on, she can hear
the car radio start once more. "Your life may just depend on it."
Miss Molly
There's
a shudder in her breath when she exhales. He can imagine her doing
some nervous habit-- chewing her fingers or tapping them or tapping her
feet perhaps instead. In reality she had stopped reclining and instead
switched to sitting upright when she had to lie. When she was called
out on it, and as Finch spoke now, she leaned forward and braced an
elbow on a knee, threaded the fingers of her left hand into her hair to
rest her hand against her palm while the right hand kept her phone to
her ear.
She closed her eyes and regretted deeply even making this phone call.
"Hey Finch?"
Sounding as though she may make a request.
Finch
"What
is it?" He asks her, the tone of his voice never really changing from
the calm and smooth pitch it seems to always carry. He can hear the
exhale and maybe he half expects her to tell him not to contact her any
more. Avoid her on the street. There's no bargain for information to be
worked out between them. So Finch waits patiently for what Molly has to
say. Patiently and quietly.
Miss Molly
She
hesitated after he asked her what she wanted. She paused. She thought
she knew, but realized all at once that she had no idea anymore. So she
licked her lips and said:
"Good luck, I guess. I'm pretty sure that's all I'm going on, so you'll probably need it too."
Finch
"Luck's
a good start." A pause. "Listen to me Molly. I will never pretend to be
something good because I'm not. You won't like the things that I do and
the way that I exist and I don't expect for you to. But I'm offering
you a little something more than luck. When you're looking at the others
like me that you know and you're wondering if they're manipulating you
... just remember, that's not something you've had to worry about with
me."
Finch is moving through the streets of Downtown Denver at a
comfortable clip, minding all of the traffic stops and street signs like
any good, law abiding citizen.
"It's ok to call me for these things. With questions.."
Miss Molly
"You
know, I really want to believe you." Her tone is hollow, but there's a
ring of honesty to it. She wants it, but clearly she's about to
explain that she doesn't anyways.
"But part of the reason I'm alive still, I think, is because I won't trust anyone."
Anyone
but sweet Jack who slipped her into love-knots but that wasn't a story
that Finch was privy to yet. He, like many others these days, was
focused on the Lasombra. And on Molly as well, it was clear. (but could one blame him? already she's enlightened him with bits caught here or there)
"I don't think I will, Finch. But I have the feeling we're going to be in touch anyways."
A pause, and then.
"Goodnight."
Finch
"Sleep well." He tells her before pressing end on the mobile phone.
No comments:
Post a Comment