Foot in mouth

Even though Scarlet was livid, somehow her presence helped Eli keeps from blowing his stack. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he gives it a firm squeeze. "Easy."

Pulling her back up, he turns her away from the scene. "Paint can be repaired." For one thing, he didn't want her getting mad enough to go after Roth herself and risk getting hurt. "Just... let it go for tonight."

Though his own blood was boiling, he couldn't lose his temper... not here... not now. Later when he couldn't hurt something or somebody. Guiding Scarlet back to her door, he looks at her firmly. "Don't do anything about it, alright? We'll figure this out." His mind was already reeling with possibilities and ways to get back at Roth, but for now, he held them at bay. This was something that would take careful planning, not going off half-cocked.

"Bring your bike to the shop tomorrow... I'll at least sand it down so you don't have to ride around with the words all over it. Then I'll repaint it for you."


Lost in his own world after Hope leaves, Reese stares at his desk, not even knowing what to do next. He'd had the rest of his day planned out, but it felt like his mind had turned to mush.

An unfamiliar voice startles him and he looks up quickly, surprised to see the woman at his door. Blinking, he refocuses so he can at least understand what she's saying. A little chill runs down his spine at the mention of the Agency. Was this real or was this some kind of trick? He remains friendly, but cautious.

"I am Mike Reese," he confirms. "Please... come in and have a seat." He motions to the chair that Hope had just been sitting in.

Waiting for her to sit down, he studies her expression and body language, finding mixed signals that kept him on edge. "We do deal with the Agency, yes, though most civilians are unaware of the organization." His eyes linger on hers. "Please tell me your situation."


Giving a little start, Justin's eyes fly open. Raising his head slowly to sit up straighter, he looks up at Beth, his eyes focusing enough for him to realize who it was talking to him. A wry grin forms as he looks down at himself for a moment. "Aw man... you're right. I do look halfway human. I'll have to work on that."

Glancing back up at her, his grin grows a little. His eyes were tired from today's session, but they still held their spark. "Humans don't do much good around here, you know. They're too stiff to get out of the ruts of textbook psychology and actually get their hands dirty."

After saying it, Justin knew it sounded harsh, especially since he could have very well offended Beth, not knowing her background. His grin turns a little sheepish, and he motions to the empty space next to him on the bench. "Have a seat while I take my foot out of my mouth."


"Take the rest of the day off! That's an order!"

Chance ducks as a filing folder is thrown in his direction, papers flying everywhere as it bounces off the wall. "But I wasn't-"

"Out!"

Chance cringes and backs away from the office. So he'd let the guy go. So he'd made a mistake. Everyone made mistakes every once in a while. Okay, so maybe it was on purpose and it had gone against protocol, let alone the plan. But it had been better!

He trudge to his cubicle, flopping down in his chair to shut off his computer before going home. Toby had a temper, but he'd be chilled by morning. He always was.

Chance sighs and fiddles with his keys. He'd joined the Elite so he'd have a chance to kick some bad guy butt. It seemed all he did lately though was file paperwork and tag along with other officers as backup. And even that, he apparently couldn't do right. But would anybody listen to him? No, of course not. Nobody liked his ideas.

A yellow sticky note caught Chance's attention and he picks it up, remembering that he'd written it just yesterday. The phone message was the same, but he still hadn't called. Later. Tomorrow. Whenever.

Grabbing his sidearm and badge, he heads out into the warm afternoon. Maybe kicking it back by the pool would be good.