ArchivedLogs:Disciplinary Action

Disciplinary Action
Dramatis Personae Jennifer, Cage	2013-05-27 Jennifer lectures Cage, who in turn takes off his shirt.
Location <NYC> Heroes for Hire - Midtown East
The office of Hero for Hire. The front room has the secretary's desk, a small filing cabinet, a computer, and a ceiling fan. Janice, the aforementioned secretary is a sixty-something woman who's accent clearly marks her as being from Eastern European descent, though probably one generation removed judging by how well she speaks English. Janice was almost certainly selected by some busy-body lawyer on Luke's behalf, probably to keep him free of any more accidental law suits. The paint is faded, but everything pretty much works. Off to one side is the bathroom, and the other door leads back to Luke's office. There's isn't much in Luke's actual office but a small desk and a swivel chair pushed into one corner, with a pair of straight backed chairs on the other side of it. A couch is by the window that looks out over Times Square. All things considered, its actually a pretty decent little spot. It is now a little later in the morning, and the office is subject to yet another visitor. Jennifer Walters has unintentionally seized a moment during which the owner of this enterprise happens to be out. The woman is now dressed at a rather official capacity - a formal attire consisting of a black jacket, a black pencil skirt and a contrasting white silken shirt. Her usually wildly disobedient locks are actually tied into a marginally neater ponytail. Having been allowed in by Janice, the redhead would fail to give her presence away immediately; the flamboyantly coloured bike is not how she arrived. After having friendly small talk with Janice, she has actually asked the secretary to conceal her presence from Luke. Jennifer's in the master's office proper, casually wandering about and observing the surroundings, the handle of a little portfolio clutched onto with both hands. Luke shoulders the front door open and he can be heard shuffling bags. "There ya go, Janice." He sets something on her desk, and she mumbles something about thanks, and how he still has to write that statement they were going to send out. Eventually, he's headed to his office, and enters carrying a small cardboard box with four hotdogs in it (with everything) and an enormous soda. The kind New York City would have outlawed in some parallel universe. "Oh shit!" When he steps inside his fortress of solitude, he nearly drops the whole kit-and-kaboodle. He stands there blinking at Jennifer, getting everything organized before crossing the room to set his stuff down. "/Thanks/ Janice..." "Well you didn't /ask/ did you?" Janice's voice from the other room, an audible smirk in it. The auburn-haired Grim Reaper in Luke's office spins on her toes when she hears the man enter. A meaningful glint of incoming discipline stirs in her green eyes; the pleasure she derives in catching Luke off-guard shows through a grin that is only partially successfully stifled. Yet she otherwise retains her elegant and rigid poise. "I've had two meetings and five phone calls this morning alone. All of that because of one certain robbery in East Harlem yesterday. One of the calls was actually from a mutual friend of ours, Claire Basil." At this point, Jennifer pauses, likely to let the information sink in. "She was actually polite enough to ask me if I was aware of your stunt, rather than outright asking me how I managed to let it happen /after/ our meeting." Her tone grows sterner towards the last sentence, and it is finally accompanied with a steel gaze that couldn't possibly mean anything besides 'explain yourself'. "/They/ hit /me/. With their car!" Luke has had to tell the story a few times since then, and he's worked hard to firm up the details, but he's still on the defensive. "Then they were threatening some guy on the street, so I stepped in... In self-defense." Yeah, that'll work. "What was I supposed to do? Laugh it off and let the guy get shot?" Luke knows he's in murky water /legally/, but he's not convinced he did the -wrong- thing that day. The story is almost immediatelly slapped on the proverbial wrist, even if Jennifer is just polite enough to avoid interrupting the man. "What you've /managed/ to accomplish is deprive the robbers of their vehicle in a manner that is surprisingly easily defensible. What you did next, however, is going to be a little bit more difficult to wriggle out of." The woman elaborates further: "Do you know what it is bank robbers do, Luke? Do you know why they decide to live out their cinematic fantasies? Their motivation is /money/, not a free shooting gallery. Many criminals - especially amateur bank robbers in their mid-twenties - only fire the gun when they feel /threatened/. And /you/ don't even need to have a mutant ability to do that." Not that Jennifer sounds angry. Her tone is coolly delivering the information as a matter of fact, with a pinch of a firmness she believes is much needed. A diminutive sigh spaces her speech, but that machine gun keeps firing. "You've slowed them down for the police to catch up, that was noble. Your involvement in the incident, however-- You've made the situation far less safe. The boys were stupid enough to shoot at you. What if they shot into the crowd, or took a hostage? What would you do?" Her eyes soften; it seems the question is genuine. Introducing Luke's 'Oh' face. But not /that/ 'Oh' face. This is the slackening of his features as one more person adds an element he hadn't considered. Hero for Hire indeed, just, some assembly required. He swallows, licks his lips and thinks. A deep sigh, and he lean/sits back against his desk. "Shit... a hostage. I dunno. I saw them pointing their guns at this guy. I had /do/ something. I just..." Luke runs a hand over his face, trying to reset his thinking apparatus. "Ok, ok," he says, holding his hands up. "I get what everyone's been saying, but just for the sake of argument, Jen, if you had just been run over, and saw what I saw, what would you have done?" It's not a petulant, accusatory question based in defensiveness. It's a genuine pleading for guidance. The idea of a hostage getting hurt really scared him. Much like a curious little bird, Jennifer swiftly tips her head sideways, observing his reaction to her suggestion. Once she notices that the point is received, the judging gaze she dons makes sure to hammer it home. The redhead spends no time gloating, however, rather granting a moment of 'oh is /right/'. "Handle it ten times worse than you did, that's what I would do," she hurriedly admits, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a typical superhero, Luke. You know my MO - I stick to disaster sites." With that crucial point laid out, Jennifer nonetheless knows better than to slyly evade the question. The admission is given rather reluctantly and alongside a sigh. "I'd be in a very good position to remember the licence plate," she offers with a timid smile. "I am a /citizen/, Cage. It would crush me with guilt and questions like 'why didn't I do anything' for days, but my power does not make me any more a hero than a gun does any other man." The lawyer breathes in deeply before shedding another sigh. "The point is to defuse situations. And people with abilities like ours sometimes forget you don't solve violence with more violence." Something clicks in Jennifer's mind. She furrows her brows, silently cursing Claire, but fortunately there are no telepaths around to pick that up. "Ok," Luke says, nodding, and thinking hard. He crosses, turning his back to Jennifer to approach the big window and stare out at Times Square. "Ok," he repeats, "I get it. I do. After the car, I should have tried more talking." He nods down at the people in the Square, and then turns again, to lean his back against the window. He glances over at his now-cold hotdogs and frowns slightly. "You know what would be good?" Luke. Luke Cage - you are NOT sneaky. Your incoming pick up line can be seen from SPACE. "We should go talk this out over dinner. We were supposed to last week, but... you know." Wednesday happened. "Besides, we have to celebrate your new job." He smiles, a genuine thing that could almost literally light up a room. The sudden change in the atmosphere actually lightens Jennifer's mood somewhat, something she is in desperate need of after the busy morning. "Oh, there will be plenty of talking about this /outside/ of dinners. I'll be sure to bore you with every inch of the minefield of legalities I have to crawl through right now. I'm glad you understand what exactly you have done wrong, Luke, and I'm not just being polite." One hand separates from the other, and so the portfolio droops to her side, whereas the currently vacand hand travels up to needlessly adjust the lapel of her jacket. "But I would still like to offer guidance beyond just raining legal jargon on you. No, not happening on a date either." The lawyer flashes a wide grin at that. "While you're welcome to continue your heroic pursuits - just more /carefully/ from now on, I hope - there is one matter I'd like us to explore together. Benefit the common man /and/ make it a learning experience. I trust you've heard about the sinkhole incident in New Jersey?" There's a healthy pause, and Luke is visibly counting something on his fingers. He finishes, starts over, and counts out loud, "Wait, ok, just making sure I have this right. You don't want to talk about the bank over dinner." Tick. "And you don't want to discuss the legal implications over dinner," Tick. "But," Yes, there were only two items on his countdown. "You didn't say we're not having dinner. I mean, you /have/ to eat, right? Your metabolism went as haywire as mine has, you /must/ be hungry." He grins, having intentionally derailed things again. With no fanfare at all, he strips his t-shirt off. Um... And then turns to grab the yellow, collared shirt hanging next to his leather jacket on the coat rack. He looks down to line up the buttons correctly but raises his voice a little. "Janice? Can you get us a table at Becco please? Thanks." He looks up at Jennifer while he buttons. "Yes, I heard about Jersey. Lets talk about it on the way." Confident Luke makes a much more compelling figure. It would seem he's found his footing once again. Jennifer Walters does not attempt to hide her frank fascination with Luke's muscle-bound upper body once that shirt comes off. A brow is tentatively raised as the redhead openly and appraisingly examines as many inches of nude skin as she manages before the yellow button-up shirt begins to obstruct the view, at which point her attention would travel back up to Luke's eyes. Her demeanour by now is arrogantly dismissive, with a glint of mischief in those emeralds. Amusingly enough, she does not budge or even twitch in her spot during this casual change of wardrobe on the man's part. The redhead hums softly. "Hm, impressive." The unimpressed tone of voice is quite entirely intentional. "But I must warn you, Mister Cage, that dinners with me usually leave men broken, shattered and crushed-- Usually /mentally/ rather than physically, but there have been incidents," she comments in a whimsical sort of tone, toying with the hero for hire at this point. "If that's what will get your mind to focus on the job, we /can/ go to Becco. /Tonight/. Contrary to men, women usually prepare for dates by more than just changing a shirt. We can talk about Jersey on our way to my car."