While she wasn't 100% buying the whole "alien" thing, she was polite about it. And it was true, while he might not be mutant, he could fit in with the group as they were, at least a little, similar to him. That earned her a brief nod and a "Yeah. That's what I think." As a reply.

Her laundry list of skills was extensive. A martial art, he wasn't quite sure what a 'shifter' was, but she had that, and she was confident enough in her abilities that she thought she could take the two men down, solo. Even if they were armed, he figured. Bold statement. And she followed it up with what he assumed was a double entendre. So she had that going for her, too, which was nice... in addition to being unopposed to killing blows.

So, to summarize, he was kinda in love. Heh. Not 'hearts hearts hearts! here's a Valentine's Day card, Hey i just met you but here's my number, I'll stalk you, maybe, creep type' vibe. More like he respected her as someone who was more complicated and deep than what he'd seen on the surface initially, and if this went well, maybe he'd like to have a drink with her at a later date and learn more about her as a person, because she was interesting. She would make a nice friend.

... if he ever broke up with Wanda, maybe he could think about anything beyond 'friend', but he liked to think as far as that relationship was concerned, he was a fairly decent guy. And so far, he had bought her a drink, and talked. A casual encounter at a bar. And double entendres and potential signals aside, reading into anything more at this point would be presumptuous as f---- hey, this long aside was getting out of hand and highly introspective in what should have been a simple response to a question. Something like a quick smirk, and a laugh, and a 'Whatever you think works best.' Followed by a "Just try not to get blood on the coat if you want it, because blood is a bitch to get out."

So that was his response, post one second bout of introspection!

Elliott laughed, and smirked. Elliott said "Whatever you think works best." He followed it up with the comment about the blood, then added "also, if we kill them we'll want to consider stashing the bodies and avoiding leaving evidence, because my amateur experience watching CSI tells me that ten times out of ten it's the evidence that gets ya'! Or the whole means and motive thing when people forgot to set up alibis. And that's almost more work than they're worth." He chuckled wryly, clearly joking. Clearly.

Hey. If she was going to go from talking about jumping people in alleys all the way to casually commenting about attack lethality, he could crack a joke about murder. So sue him.

Eliot seemed like a nice guy, even if he did have somewhat of an eccentricity about him. Honestly, Rebecca found that endearing. Was she in love? Well possibly, but she'd only just met the man, and any real attempts to even contemplate that kind of thing were far from her radar. She didn't even know if he was single or not! The chances are he wasn't, she was terrible with timing. Just like back at University, where she finally changed her mind about that guy...and he was engaged. Moved on. Feelings there but now too late.

While Eliot was partly joking about the dead bodies, there was actually a good point to the whole thing. She let out a little, low pitched giggle. "I think beating them unconscious will be enough this time, I don't feel like getting into the headlines in the paper, even if it would be untraceable." Beating them senseless was punishment enough she felt, this time at least.

They had now reached the alleyway. There was a nicely placed dumpster to hide behind. She got even closer to him , those men probably had ideas about what they were going to do. Too bad for them they were too stupid to see they were being led into a trap. She pointed to the dumpster. "I'll take that spot, they'll follow us in. You take one, I'll take the other."

She then, with another giggle, made her way into the alleyway, and ran excitedly behind the dumpster. It was surprisingly dry here. Good. She quickly made her transformation into her sand form, lying on the ground for now remaining quiet, hoping Eliot would have followed her in.

Elliott nodded in agreement, smirking slightly at that giggle. Beating them up was more than enough, yeah, and avoiding making the headlines had always been a little hobby of his. Good head on her shoulders, this one.

As she reached the alley, Rebecca scouted it and figured out a plan in short order. His eyes passed over the alley, making note of any useful junk on the ground, as well as the placement of the dumpster and fire escape. Her plan sounded sound (sound sound sound sound sound sound, nasty echo in here, he thought). "Alright," Elliott said. "That works for me."

He followed the woman into the alley. Paused a brief moment to stretch his legs, then. He pounced up onto the fire escape. "I have the high ground." His voiced trailed down to her, dryly.

From his perch above, he should have been able to see her. But all he saw was some sand by a dumpster. Aha! So that was what 'shifter' meant. She shifted into some type of sand being. And here, he'd thought she seemed sweet. Those guys would probably find her incredibly abrasive. He canned any more bad puns before they distracted him, and just in time. The two men strode in.

"Mutie! Oh, Mutie!" One of them called in a singsong tone. "Where are you, Mutie?" He bounced a baseball bat against the palm of his hand as he walked into the alleyway. Where he'd gotten the bat, Elliott had no freaking idea. The other man had no such weapon. Just his fists.

His voice was deep, the second man. "We don't like muties like you spending no time with pretty human women. Freaking freak. Gonna kill ya."

Elliott's voice came down at them loftily. "That's a hate crime," he grinned. His antennae twitched in anticipation. They could sense the stink in the alleyway too, and wanted out as soon as possible! "And a double-negative." He added. "By the way--"

Before he finished the sentence, Elliott came down from on high in a falling, flying, kick. Which was it, flying or falling? Both or neither. Yet definitely not a drop kick, even with the drop. Words were HARD. It connected with the man's chest, rather than his head or his neck like a good boy should. It was a solid, meaty hit that sent the second thug flying into a trash can. He probably had bruised ribs. Maybe even cracked ribs. But he would live. Wouldn't be a pleasant life for a while. That's just karma.

The thug with the baseball bat spun on him, turning away from the dumpster in the shadows of the alley.

Rebecca saw Elliott leap onto the dumpster, and heard him call down a witty joke, She would have smiled had it not been for the fact that she was in her sand form. Elliott had a great sense of humor. She liked that kind of thing in anyone, particularly a guy friend. All she could do was wait for the right time to strike.

In came the men, attempting to taunt out the two of them. They didn't sound particularly intelligent from where Rebecca was hovering. They had something against her and Elliott spending time with one another? Because they thought she was human? The thoughts about them she had were too ugly to mention.

Memory came back, Bethany...those photos...Rebecca was reconsidering her use of lethal force on these ones, but was brought back by Elliott's humor against them. Double negative. Ha! She heard the hard crunch of Elliott's attack, followed by a dull thud of the thug falling to the ground.

It was time for her to act, the other thug was armed with a baseball bat, that wouldn't help him. She rushed up to the man in her form, a strong wind blew him from behind. Suddenly he was surrounded by sand. "What the-" the man was cut off by Rebecca's sand form covering his mouth, he began flailing around pathetically with the baseball bat, trying desperately to stop what was happening. In a few seconds, he dropped it. He swooned and fell over backwards the sand still fully engulfing him.

Rebecca gradually reformed herself on top of the man, her hands placed firmly around his neck. Her body knelt on top of his chest. She was angry. She was so angry. She could just kill this one, she'd killed before! She turned her head towards where she assumed Elliott was. Death would spoil such a lovely evening. The man would live. This time. She got up off the unconscious man, satisfied with her achievement. It was now time for the important part of the night.

"Which of their overcoats do you like best?" She chirpily stated to the Alien. "I'm pretty sure my guy's hasn't been too badly damaged by the attack!" It was a bit of a shame that both had landed in the alleyway, whichever she took would probably need washing...

Brutal and beautiful. That's what her attack had been. He'd stayed back, admiring it, ready to step in if she needed help, but she had not. For a second, it seemed like she had flickered between decisions. But he had no way to know if she'd been trying to decide between killing or not killing, or if she had been trying to decide on the best way to knock the man unconscious. Her pick was better than what he would have done. Which reminded him--

Elliott slammed his thugs head into the trash can next to him, just as he was crawling back to his feet. It rang with the wonderful sound of a concussion. Elliott caught the man's shoulder as he went limp. More specifically, the overcoat part of it. As the man slumped, he slid the coat neatly off the man's shoulders. It was beige and more trench coat than anything. Was this guy moonlighting as a flasher? Her coat was way better. And his had garbage juice on it, too. His face twinged into a look of mild disgust for a moment. Yeck!

"I'll take this one," Elliott smiled. As he folded it over his arm, he pulled a wallet out of the pocket and glanced at it. A way better prize than a coat. He slid it casually into the pocket again, before he came off suspicious.

Elliott stepped away from the thug, to approach Rebecca. "You continue to impress me." He said. "That sand form? Pretty damn cool."

Rebecca watched as Elliott gave the finishing move and launched his thug into the trash can, ringing with the beautiful sound of getting the mutant acceptance message through a man's skull, literally. He was an impressive guy, that was for sure, and was even able to pull his punches a little. She wondered what she thought of her skills...

She carefully took her thug's overcoat off in reaction to seeing the alien snatch the flasher coat off his thug. It was a nice black one, woolen even, warm...was it designer? She checked the label. It read "Italian wool". Score! She would have squealed at her luck, had she not remembered that she was with polite company. It wasn't even that dirty! Great stuff.

"Thanks for warming it up for me" she joked to the unconscious man on the floor. It seemed Elliott didn't have as much to celebrate from the coat as he took the wallet from his one. Hers didn't have a wallet. Well, it was probably a good thing for the thugs to pay their own taxi fare home.

Rebecca went red at Elliott's response to him, nearly staring at the floor. "I've had a lot of practice with it. You did pretty good too with jumping the guys.... Awful nice of you to give me the nicer coat as well..."

She went quiet for a while, not sure what else to say, letting the alien take the lead. Now was the time to get self-conscious. She let the pause overtake her, trying to think of what to say... hopefully he was able to say something and move things along, otherwise the conversation would turn into awkward laughter and she wasn't able to cope with that. That would be bad.

Blushing, after showing such confidence earlier. My, but that was an interesting reaction. Maybe she just didn't get complimented often? Either that, or she hadn't been as confident in her powers as first she'd made herself out to be. Elliott smiled at her. Either way, she'd done fine. Nothing to be ashamed about. And she had deserved the compliment.


>>"I've had a lot of practice with it. You did pretty good too with jumping the guys.... Awful nice of you to give me the nicer coat as well..." She said.

"Thanks," he replied. "And no problem. I'm sure it'll look good on you. And it's a great coat." Black wool. Looked Italian to him. He'd dealt in stolen goods once or twice. One learns to tell a real Italian-made clothing item from a fake pretty quickly, or they get had. He never much cared for losing money on a deal. Elliott had made it his personal duty to be certain he was getting what he had paid for every time... although if he sold the fake, that was a different story. Not that he passed things off as genuine when he sold fakes. You do that, you get the wrong attention eventually. Better to never say something is what it isn't, but let people think it might be. What people think, you have no control over. "Italian, looks like." He added offhandedly.

There was a little silence from the other woman, into which he interjected thoughts. "Tonight was fun." Elliott said. "We should do it again some time." A pause, a thought. "Not the bludgeoning men. Though I suppose that had its charms. More, the drinking and talking. Care if I give you my number? Maybe we can hang out again some time, maybe talk about work? Work gossip? Scary tiger ladies?" He smiled wryly at the idea of that. "Or maybe she can sense it when people talk about her behind her back. I always get the feeling she's sensing things on another level, that one."

The sight of Elliott smiling made Rebecca smile back. She didn't get compliments often, especially not from guys. Then again, she hadn't really got compliments from guys about her mutation. It had been a don't ask , don't tell affair. Most people didn't care that she was a mutant , and the handful that did care (of the handful she told) thought it was pretty cool. Even if they had joked about throwing her in the campus lake at the University of York.

"You know about fabrics?" She said rather impressed. Smiling again at Elliott's show of knowledge. "Italian is what the label said. Do you think it's real?" Italian wool was faked a lot, so if she had a real one...that would be something for the books. An ability to look stylish and all it took was the beating up of a couple of fools. She was pleased with that.

"Yeah it was fun" she responded, quietly. "I enjoyed both parts of it." A somewhat wicked smile came upon her face at the macabre humor from Elliott. Now he was offering her his number. Forward, but very reasonable. He was after all, at least in part, a work colleague. Maybe even something more... But not yet, she would have to get to know him a bit better.

"Sure" she said, taking a phone out of her purse. It wasn't exactly one with all the bells and whistles, but it was at least a smart phone. Regular phones were to difficult to use in the age of modern tech, particularly in a place like JW. "and I'd hope we wouldn't just talk about work" she smiled again, this time kindly. "She has eyes in the back of her head, not like Marvin in HR, but you know what I mean."

Did he think it was real? Elliott glanced at the coat again, and pointed out something he'd noticed that a lot of fakes wouldn't capture. "See, there are little things that would make a counterfeit stand out. I have a bit of experience in telling the real deal from imitation. I had a job before this one, where I worked in acquisitions." Which was a polite way of saying he acquired stolen goods for resale. "The people I worked for taught me to know the difference. It wouldn't do to try and pass off something as something its not. And buying a fake is always the worst letdown." He scrunched up his face at the thought.

She was lucky she'd gotten that coat. What was that fool doing with such a nice coat? That was the real question. He'd probably stolen it. Or maybe, he was some high-paid crime lord's thug. That was the most likely scenario. Suddenly, he was glad they hadn't killed the goons. Crime lords sometimes make a big deal about their men. They don't like letting challenges to their authority go unremarked, especially when it involves the death of one of their own. It wouldn't be a bad idea to leave soon.

He liked that wicked smile. She had some chops. Good sense of humor, too.

Elliott pulled out one of his burn phones, one he used for Jaager-related business. He had several, for various aspects of the job. No contracts. One never knew when they'd need to discard a phone to destroy some evidence. It was a good phone, though. Fairly new, and practical. One wouldn't ask questions. It just wasn't a high powered smart phone with more computer processing power than the first space shuttle to the moon. It was a less powerful cellphone with more computer processing power than the first space shuttle to the moon. There was a difference. His cost less money, and still made calls. And, it was black.

Elliott returned the smile. Not just work talk, huh? Hmmmm. He liked the sound of that. "Yeah." Elliott laughed. "That Marvin. Sounds a little like Alan Rickman. Guess knowing when people are talking about you behind your back makes one a bit morose." He told her his number, and listened for her's, do he could add it to his phone.

"Need any money for a cab ride home?" He asked Rebecca, when they were finished. He held up the goon's wallet. He smiled a jagged toothed grin. "It's only fitting thug two pay for a ride. He inconvenienced us."

Rebecca marveled at Elliott's knowledge of fabrics, though it did seem odd, the way that Elliott was talking about it. It was possible that he had worked in fabric acquisitions in JW, but she couldn't remember a department of that type being talked about very often. Clearly the alien-mutant had far more of an interesting past than even first met the eye. She would be able to find out more, when they met up again.

"I do wonder how some random thug got a nice coat like this" She was no expert on criminal gangs, but she was guessing that this wasn't some random guy anymore. All of a sudden, not killing them was probably the best idea she'd had for some time. Headlines avoided, and the only thing that the guy had hurt was his dignity, and any consequences from being out in the cold.

Rebecca laughed at Elliott's quip at HR Marvin at least had the decency to cover himself up when privacy was required, though that wasn't very often in Rebecca's wing of JW, thankfully. Rebecca told him her phone number and programmed his into her own phone. That would be useful in later dates. At the very least, she had made a good friend.

"Too right" she responded to Elliott's offer of a ride with the thug's money. "I'm sure there's enough money for you to buy your significant other something as well". This was slightly unsubtle, but she preferred to know what she was doing in seeing Elliot again. Either way, a swift exit from this place before they came to was probably a good idea.

If there were an award for obvious testings of the water, Rebecca would win it, hands down. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was just that it put him in a situation. Now, there was only one real option here. If he liked the girl, and thought that somewhere down the line, he might like to date her (once his relationship with Wanda had ended through natural means, you know, run it's course?), then the only option would be to tell her he was seeing someone, point blank. Pull the trigger. Deal with the results. After that, if he did become single, and she was single, then maybe he'd ask her out and see where thing went. Because if he said no, and was seeing someone, and then later that came out to either party, things would be bad. And though he was a paranoid lying thieving murderous jerk, he wasn't a paranoid lying thieving murderous cheating jerk. At least with women, he felt like he should be honest. His few relationships in his lifetime had taught him that.

Of course, he could always lie. That was an option. If he didn't think anything of the woman he'd just met, he could lie. And it would show a complete lack of respect on his part. If he did that, he'd feel pretty damn low. He'd be a disgusting jackass who lied to women in order to potentially get in their pants. This, that, and the other thing blazed through his head at her question, and Elliott made the only logical choice. He told the truth.

Heck. She was a nice woman. Rebecca deserved a good guy. Whoever she wound up with, he needed to be good to her. She sounded like she was single now. He didn't think she'd be single very long. And honestly, hell, he was seeing Wanda. Though they had their disagreements, and had their fights, he was still seeing her. He had a code. Even if he was a criminal. Frankly, criminals have the best codes. If we're being honest. The phrase honor among thieves didn't originate out of nowhere. So. He told the damn truth.

Elliott chuckled at the thought, shaking his head. "My girlfriend Wanda already has everything she could ever want. She'd get mad at me if I surprised her with flowers or something. She does that, for some reason." He got a thoughtful look on his face for a second, but sent it away with another shake of his head. "But maybe I could take her to a nice restaurant or something?" That was a thought. "Though," He glanced at the money in the wallet. "There might only be enough for a cab ride. I can always take her on my own dime." Dark cold city was no place for a woman alone at night. "We should probably get out of this alley, either way." He concluded.

So, Elliott had a girlfriend. That was fair enough, he seemed like the type to have one. He was interesting and rather charming. So, it was just two co-workers meeting up for coffee and the like. That was fine too, she didn't know too many people at the office still, so it was nice to meet someone who knew what he was doing at least. She wasn't about to get in the way of anyone's relationship. She simply wasn't that type of girl.

"A shame about the money, can't thugs these days be bothered to earn a decent living?" She quipped."Still, you should take her out for a nice meal, even if it ain't on this guy's pay roll" . Meanwhile they needed to get out of the alley. The last thing she wanted to be was out alone in the cold and dark. " Agreed. Is there a taxi firm nearby?" It was probably best to get back home now.

She'd enjoyed tonight. She'd made a great friend in a co-worker, and it was nice to have someone that she knew at work. Big corporations like JW were always daunting for new employees like Rebecca, hopefully it would get better though, as people got to know her better. Maybe even as they realised her utility in security? Time would tell she supposed.

"Yeah, a shame." He agreed. He felt kind of funny, talking about taking his girlfriend out. Wanda had this thing about hating to go places because her super hearing went into overdrive when surrounded by an entire restaurant full of people talking. It wasn't something he was going to talk about, but it made it hard. They really only did carry out or delivery.

"Let me call an Uber." Elliot replied. He dug out his cell.

He had enjoyed the night. It'd be nice to have someone he could talk to. He didn't have many friends. It was kind of part of the life.

A cab came, eventually. Until it came, they made small talk. Elliott let her take it, it was the only gentlemanly thing to do, then departed on-foot. He had walked to the bar. He could catch a bus home.

((Ooc: I think we can call this thread a wrap. ))