David preferred his employers to be the kind to know as little about his work as possible. The farther removed they were from his coming and goings, the better for them both. Plausible deniability only works if one or more parties is in the dark. Up until now the man known as Sledgehammer had taken orders from one Ms. Lenna without actually meeting the lady. It should hardly be surprising that they had to meet eventually, but David had hoped that such a day would come after some sort of circumstance made such a meeting impossible. However his flat was still close enough that it was a possible meeting place for the two, and as such was the reason why David had to actually invest in an alarm clock.

He did not do well with having something telling him that he needed to wake up. David suffered from a case of self imposed insomnia, forcing himself to stay awake for days while he worked on some project, only to crash hard the minute that it was completed. Since he got his money on his time, he did not need to wake up at the crack of dawn to get somewhere before a shift started. But to ensure that he would be properly groomed for this meeting with Ms. Lenna, David needed to have an alarm clock. This was where the day started to take a turn for the worse. As soon as the alarm went off David instinctually reached out and hit the damn thing.

Problem the first. Sledgehammer fists destroy alarm clocks.

With the alarm clock now out of commission and a pile of mechanical bits and bobs on a cracked nightstand, David continued sleeping until his body naturally woke up. Five minutes to go until Ms. Lenna arrived at his flat. This realizations struck him when he looked at his watch, now the only functional time piece in his apartment. For a minute David stared blankly at the gold around his wrist, trying to assess why the time was so important. With a loud explative he threw off the covers and slammed his feet to the floor. No time to tidy up his bedroom, he had to get himself presentable. As usual his mop of brown hair stood out at all angles, cowlicks abundant, and flattened out on one side where he had slept on it. He really could use a shave, his stubble from the last couple of days darkening his jawline.

On his way to the bathroom David noticed problem number two. His garbage can was full, needing to be emptied no matter what. Groaning he dashed over, bare feet making a soft pattering on the linoleum tiled floor. Still in his undergarments, if he hurried, David might just be able to drop the rubbish into the bin, throw on some clothes, and then look presentable. Today was just going to have to be one of those days when his hair was spiked.

Problem number three. As he paused to adjust his grip on the trash bag, David's apartment door softly clicked shut behind him unnoticed. In record time he managed to drop the bag into the chute, but, unfortunatly he had just locked himself out of his apartment. David gave the knob a little jiggle. "No." he said, shaking the door harder. It did not give way underneath his frustration. "No."

"Well, isn't this a surprise." A voice from a tiny bit down the hall from the man announced dryly. A hand dropped into her pocket and came out with a trio of bobby pins, flared like a peacock's tail feathers. "Need a lock picked?"

She was on time. He was half-dressed. And this had not been how she'd expected this meeting to go. Usually, she would have asked him in, but a little walk never hurt anyone. So she'd ventured out.

If someone had seen her and him like this, they might have assumed something stupid. Luckily, nobody saw a thing.

"David, is it?" She asked. She'd seen pictures, and heard descriptions. It wasn't like Lenna offered to pick locks for any old man in his sleepwear.

Being locked outside of his apartment was humiliating enough. David was known as Sledgehammer for a reason. His arms were more than capable of breaking through the door, not that he was too eager for that. The maintance was fairly decent here, coming when called with relative promptness, but replacing a door took much longer to deal with than a simple unclogging of the kitchen sink. Then again he for some reason couldn’t get his arms to work right, a fact that made him alternate between staring at the door and his arms. If the humiliation of being locked out of his apartment was bad, having someone spy him not only being locked out, but being locked out in his undergarments was a fate worth wishing death. This was not how he wanted to have his meeting with Lenna go. He had meant for there to be some placating on his part, reasurrances that he was doing the work that they assigned him, requesting that they provide him with more accurate intel after that bank job fiasco, while not actually having to commit to anything serious.

Instead he now had to act as if being caught in his under things was only slightly embarrassing. Acting as though it didn’t bother him at all was over confidence beyond what even he thought was acceptable. Nobody liked being spied on in their underpants, locked outside of their flat. It was the other way around that you wanted to work, preferably with the attractive lady who lived across the hall. Still, if he was to have any miniscule scrap of pride left he was going to have to try to brush off his humiliation at least a little bit. To do so he first straightened up so that he was no longer hunched over his doorknob. Next he gave her a somewhat sheepish smile and held out his hand. “Hair pins eh? Cliché but somewhat effective.” David wasn’t the greatest at it, but he did know how to pick some locks. His set of picks though were on the other side of the door.

Calling his landlord to let them into the apartment seemed to be out of the question now. It could be that Lenna wanted to use this as a serendipitous test to see how effective David was at breaking into a place. True they were breaking into his apartment, but that was beside the point. Taking two pins from Lenna, he bent the metal back until they were more or less straight flat pieces of metal. Good to see that he wasn’t completely useless with his hands. Crouching down he got to work, reminding himself that he was going to have to change the lock on his door yet again. If he’d be able to pick the lock, who was to say someone else couldn’t?

It hadn't actually been a test to see if he could manage it, as she would have gladly helped him into his own apartment, but to each their own. She let him try his hand. If he was thinking she was testing him, she would let him think that. Sometimes, it didn't hurt to let your employees show their skills (or be paranoid). A little healthy paranoia never hurt anyone. It was a good thing, really. Kept you sharp.

Hopefully, he would be able to demonstrate his skills at lock-picking. Standing in a hallway with a half-dressed man wasn't her idea of a good time. No, Lenna would rather be out of sight from prying eyes, and for David to be better dressed. Idly, she checked her watch. The hands moves quickly around on the face.

Her eyes lifted away from the watch's face, to something else, and her mind wandered. If time was going to be wasted, the least Lenna could do was take a moment to enjoy the view.

David’s eyebrows drew together with the concentration he was pouring into picking open the lock to his flat. He had switched to something that was more difficult after that nightmare of the future, and now he was presented with a nice challenge. With a grunt of frustration he extracated the hairpin again and studied the tip of it. As he suspected there was a protective coat of something on the end which made it quite bulbous. David scraped off the ball of plastic and started working again on the lock, putting feather light touches on the tumblers as he wiggled them about, trying to find the right sequence. As he worked his mind dropped away from some of the more annoying thought processes, such as how much easier this would be if he could just smash in his damn door, and that his legs were getting rather cold this close to the ground.

With a soft click the door’s lock popped, the catch sliding back into the rest of the hardware. So much for that being the best security lock that the hardware store had to offer. Next time he wouldn’t skimp out and instead would go straight to one of those high tech spy sort of shops. Having not invested in a computer, David was unaware of the variety of security measures offered through the use of internet sellers. Anything that the Brit wished to purchase, be it groceries, a new hat, or in this case a more unpick-able door lock, was purchased in person, meaning he had to do the leg work to find where to get them in the first place. Getting Seyta’s knife had proved to be a challenge in itself, not to mention the question of how to deliver her Christmas present without having to see her face to face. Even if Sledgehammer was made aware of how easy it was to get things online he probably would have not been interested. To him that legwork was the closest he got to actually working a nine to five shift, and he was proud of the effort that he put forth.

Noticing Lenna’s eyes on him, but still not wishing to address the fact that he was, in his mind at least, naked in front of her, David simply turned his head the other way and opened his door for her. Other than the trash that had to be taken out, his apartment was relatively clean. The furniture was sleek and stylish, with modern lines that still had a softeness to them. Most of the clutter was kept exclusively to his desk where he worked . On his wall were various maps of the city, be they antique ones from when it was first being established to stylized subway maps. His telly was turned off, and a newspaper was spread open on his coffee table, one corner weighted down by an empty mug from his last cuppa.

There was no fanfare upon his successful lock picking. He'd need to get a better lock. She didn't lecture him about it. Didn't care to. Merely followed him into his apartment, briefly taking note of her surroundings.

It was about average for an average guy. There were no guns sitting out or obvious signs of something strange about the occupant. There was a television, dishes that needed taken care of, and your average other chores. Boring furniture, too sleek to be interesting to her, topped off the room.

Lenna shrugged herself into a chair, lifting one leg over the other, and resting both hands on a knee.

"I'll let you slip into something more comfortable," She said politely, and waited.

No further comment was made about David's locking himself out of his apartment, for which he was ok with. For the man who was called whenever a spectacular entrance needed to be made to be thwarted by a few inches of wood was laughable. Such saving grace wasn't extended towards his garb. David sighed. Hehad hoped that he could excuse himself quietly or something. Instead Lenna's comment felt more like an order to dress. This wa sone of those mornings where things just refused to go his way. Best not try and pull any cons when that happened.

"Right then," he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, "I'd tell you to make yourself comfortable, but it looks like you've settled already." With that David excused himself and headed back to his bedroom. His mind began to race, trying how to swing this situation around and back into his favor. That was why he had offered his flat as the place for their meeting. There was much to be said about the homefield advantage. If he could somehow manage to pull this off his life would be all the more easier. At worst his network of informantss would have to be shared.

David dressed quickly, putting on a pair of dress slacks and a maroon button up shirt. When he emerged from his room shortly after Lenna had sent him there, the Brit was in the act of tying a tie. His hair still stood up in various directions, a youthful contrast to his rather dignified dress.

Her eyes drifted over the contents of David's home without settling on anything or actually caring. And, she waited. There really wasn't much else to say about it. She didn't have as much patience as some. She let her mind drift, perhaps, to the things she had to do that day, and even later that week, but she really didn't do much of anything at all beyond that.

Finally, he came out, finishing the act of tying his tie.

"So," She began, casually. The wait had almost been long enough for her to forget why she was even there at all. "Tell me about yourself."

The furniture layout of David's living room area did not lend itself all the well for conversations that did not involve flirtation and the possibility of something more. He lived alone and as stylish as it might be, David's home was undeniably a bachelor's flat. His fridge held a case of beer and the empty bottles and cans were in his bin. As such there was a limited number of places that he could sit while they had their meeting and be able to look her in the face. He had to settle for taking a seat that was parallel with hers and turning his body.

David leaned back into the couch, one arm resting on the back of it while he held his crossed leg with the other. The pose spoke of confidence and comfort. David smiled at Lenna while she asked him to tell her a little about himself. "What is it you'd like to hear?" This was not the place to point out that her question sounded to him like a bad chat up line. It was still too young for him to tell if flirting with his employer was a bad idea or not. Probably was given that she had caught him stuck outside his flat in his pants. There was a delicate balance between being a slight flirt and sexual harrasement.

"I do what I do, and I'm very good at it," David said. He didn't specify if that meant he was very good at conning people out of their money or his mutation. David didn't tell people that he was a mutant, nor what exactly it was that he did. They just learned once they heard the name Sledgehammer.