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Corian whistles quietly as she comes into the hotel room, something along the lines of zip-a-dee-doo-dah, cheerful, about wonderful days, that sort of thing. "I really do adore being a tourist," she says, as she closes the door securely behind her. "I have some pictures that might be useful, and a few random and bizarre ones as well."
Tarrant is sprawled in a chair, not quite asleep, but not entirely awake. He straightens and grins a greeting, "Pictures are always good. Even those that do not seem immediately useful might be in the end, ya never can be knowing."
Corian heads over to get the camera attached to her computer, so that the pictures may be downloaded, then heads over to curl up in another chair, nearby. "We'll see," she agrees equably. "Did you have any luck looking around, then?"
Tarrant tugs a thick shedule from one pocket and offers it over with a nod, "A copy of tomorrow's schedule at the hall. I also managed to slip in and get a brief look at the backstage facilities before the place got swamped by the next show. It's so packed with people as a rule though, it's unlikely extra faces would ever be noticed."
Corian takes the schedule with a murmur of thanks, and scans it for several moments before she returns it. "That is rather convenient, especially if we attempt to blend in." She shakes her head as she rummages for a blanket, then uses it to assist in her curling-up-ing. "It looks as if this is going to go well. That's nice."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Tarrant accepts the returned schedule and then slides from his chair to drop down to sit at the foot of yours, leaning lightly against it. "After that last job, we're owed an easy one, that's for certain. We should be able to slip in, get the information, I'll terminate the mark, then we can all head home a job well done and tucked away.'
Corian takes advantage of the proximity to play with your hair for a moment, before she drops her hands a bit lower, the better to rub your shoulders. "It sounds as if it will be a quick one," she murmurs, sounding pleased, "And with such a lovely setting... I am almost tempted to send a thankyou note for this."
Tarrant murmurs an inarticulate but clearly pleased expression at your hands on his shoulders, and the glance he sends upwards towards you is one of pure adoration. If you didn't already have this man wrapped around your finger, you would now. "That feels wonderful." He chuckles quietly, sounding vastly amused. "That would probably please the department, poor guys live in absolute terror of you."
Corian leans down to kiss your cheek, though she doesn't stop the happy shoulder-rubbing thing, looking quite amused. "I really do not understand just -why- they are so frightened of me. Really, I am a very nice person." She just -sounds- so innocently confused, but, hah, you know better. "I think I -will- send the thankyou note," she adds, sounding somewhat less innocent. "It will be unexpected, and surprise them."
"I think it's cause you -are- so nice that they're so afraid," Tarrant speculates, relaxing by measures beneath your hands. "You see, they do not realize you are also evil. So when you get all fired up, they figure they mustve' done something -scary-, to getcha' so angry, so they scramble t'fix it."
"Well, -that- is correct," Corian asserts firmly, unwrapping herself a bit from the blanket to pay a bit more attention to that backrub thing. "Sending us to Alvand was extremely scary, and not something to be repeated."
"Sendin' us to Alvand was plum stupid," Tarrant agrees amiably. But then he'd probably agree amiably to you decapitating him right now, so relaxed is he. "You're s'posed to apportion out your resources where they can do the most good, not where they're most likely t'be damaged."
Corian murmurs, giving your shoulders a final squeeze and then slipping out of her chair to sit next to you instead, "Quite right. That is most definitely my opinion, especially as that involves us not going anywhere that cold again."
Tarrant shifts around to offer to be a backrest, and not so incidentally share the blanket. Also this way he can wrap his arms around you. "Well next time we'll know not t'trust them when they say it'll just be a quick trip someplace cold. I'll poke Gardener in the eyes if he so much as suggests anywhere with ice ever again."
Corian can't quite help but shudder, though she's kind and shares the blanket, as well as her own warmth. See, this is the reason for getting married. "I will do more than poke Gardener's eyes, I believe," she murmurs. "Ice is -not- good, not good at all, though that tea was good after a while. I do not know that I am going to go there just for the tea, though."
Tarrant settles in close to you, sharing his warmth in return, and all but exuding a general contentment. "Not when we can just order the tea, nope. A far sight better than going to visit." He sighs softly, a pleased sound. "Job or no job, love, this is a wonderful evening. I've always worked for the department because I believed in the goal. And I thought I had fun, but I realize now I was seriously missing something. And now that I'm with you...it's as if everything clicks."
Corian is quiet for a moment, not even able to awww, so touched is she. Then, of course, she has to kiss you. "I know just what you mean, cha'trez," she murmurs. "As happy as I was before I knew I loved you, I cannot but think, now, how much happier I am, since I can share my life with you."
Tarrant returns the kiss with a bright grin, snuggling in the closer a momet. Hey, it's best if he's ingratiating now, he'll need to save up all the points he can get, cause he's gonna lose them all. He shifts back however, but just enough to return the backrub. "It took us a while to figure it out, but we got there in the end." He pauses a beat and chuckles, "Although us pairing up must keep the Department on its collective toes."
Corian closes her eyes for a moment in blissful pleasure. Backrubs are good things, after all. "We have time enough and more to make up for the time it took you to figure it out, and the time it took me to come to my senses," she murmurs, casting a warm smile at you. "And it is most certainly good to keep the Department on its toes. That -should- be the case."
Tarrant's fingers set about looking for knots, moving their way with systematic care down your neck to your shoulders and carefully rubbing. "World enough and time," he agrees in a bemusedly pleased fashion. "Although I suppose the phrase ought to be 'worlds enough'. And keeping the Department dancing is an important thing, yes, or they make us dance instead."
Corian is all but melting with the backrub, though she murmurs something about poems about vegetarians. "Though dancing with you -is- a good thing," she observes, with a quick smile. "It is just better to do so because we wish it, and not at the ends of their strings."
Tarrant's fingers continue downwards, working his way down over shoulderblades and along the spine. This is something his hands can do on autopilot. "Dancing with you is wonderful," his tone is lazily reminiscent, and altogether pleased. "Even when I was scared half to death of causing offense at that ball, I was in six kindsa' heaven."
"We should try that again sometime," Corian decides, with a warm smile. "Now that we know that we can dance together without worrying about that sort of thing. I very much enjoyed dancing with you as well, but I was so self-conscious in that costume."
"It was a lovely costume, and you were goergeous in it, but then you are always amazing beautiful, so it's no surprise." Tarrant's fingers work their way down to the small of your back systematically. "And yes, an occasion to dance without said fear would be well worth having. When neither of us is self-conscious any."
Corian casts a smile at you, though it does still hold a bit of that self-consciousness. "I am glad that you liked it, cha'trez, but you will forgive me if perhaps I do not wear it again. It was a little bit... tighter than I like."
Tarrant's hands trail around you in another attempted hug, "Of course not, hence why I said with neither of us having to be self-conscious. I much prefer ya' comfortable and having fun than to wearing something that makes you feel unhappy."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Corian twists around and hug-cuddles close, with a murmur of thanks. "I think that I will avoid that dress, then. Besides," she adds, "It was rather more attention-getting than I should wear, with our line of employment." Yeah. That's it. It doesn't embarrass her, really.
Tarrant tucks the blanket in closer as he enfolds you entirely in his arms. He may not be a huge guy, but he's enough larger than you are to make a decent stab at this. "We should find someplace to dance that does not require wearing odd clothes. That'd do it."
Corian cuddles a little closer, a quiet, contented sigh escaping her. "Well, all we need to dance are us and some music, yes? That should not be very difficult to locate. Well, no, we will need some time as well, and that might be a bit more problematic. It would be worthwhile, though."
"Time being a commodity we don't have in quantity, I must admit." Tarrant stifles a yawn and then tugs himself up into awareness and wakefulness again. "But music is easily enough found, and being together, we can do that easily enough."
Corian catches the yawn, and offers a rather sympathetic smile. "It has been a long day, yes? But we should be able to make contact before too much longer, yes? And hopefully we will be able to get some rest not long after that."
Tarrant looks rather sheepish at having been caught, but nods simply enough. "The time edges nearer, yes. And let's hope this contact is on the same general schedule as we are, and as eager for some sleep in preperation for tomorrow's insanity."
Corian is looking rather tired, herself, though not quite yawnsome. "If nothing else, travel can be a tiring thing, and we can hope that he has had multiple hops to get here," she offers. "After all, it would be our duty to suggest rest at that point, yes? Since we will be depending on this person, we would -naturally- want him to be at his best."
Tarrant offers you a fond grin, if as has been mentioned, a tired one. "I like the way you think my love. Not to mention he needs to depend on us, and so the reverse is true as well, if saving his ow hide appeals to him more."
Corian nods her agreement to that, with a bit of a stretch, then inquires, "Should we perhaps think about heading towards the rendez-vous point?"
Tarrant reaches up to ruffle through his hair a moment, considering. After a pause he clambers to his feet, then reaching down to offer you a hand up. "I think we'd best, yes. Time and tide melts the snowman."
Corian gets lightly to her feet and takes your hand, then pauses for a moment to rummage in her bag for a jacket, likely anticipating somewhat more chilly weather. "And speaking of snowmen," she murmurs, with a quick smile. "But we likely will not be outside for too long. Hopefully the contact's shuttle will be on time."
Tarrant considers a moment and reaches for his own jacket, tugging it on. "Good idea that. Freezing's not on my least of cheerful evening activities." He nods to that, rummaging a moment to make sure he has everything he needs and then moving to open the door for you. "Onward and outward then?"
Corian checks inside her pocket for a moment, then nods amiably and murmurs her thanks as she makes her way through the open door. She pauses there to wait for you, then sets off through the hotel, the better to get to the fountains.
Tarrant closes the door behind him with a snick, and then falls in beside you, matching you pace. Despite his tiredness, he's alert, once again at work. He manages to hide it well in easy carriage and apparent lack of worry, but hey, you're married to him, you know when he's really paying attention and when he isn't. He is. The air outside is indeed a bit cooler, making the area around the Pavilion fountains relatively unpopulated.
Corian is, yes, aware of that sort of thing, and, while she's still rather pleasant, it's not the bubbly enthusiasm of earlier. Yes, she's very much aware that the time for play has passed, at least for now. She offers you a brief smile as she takes a seat on a bench near the fountains, one hand tucked lightly in her pocket. "It will be interesting to see what he is like," she murmurs.
Joshua has arrived.
Joshua Schleckman is a man enjoying a rather distinguished middle age. Perhaps in his early to mid-fifties, he's not overly tall and perhaps six feet or so. Salt and peppered hair mixes iron gray with strands of cotton white, but flops straight and fine to one side with a rakish air over laugh lines and an easy smile. A beard and moustache clipped close add to the air of joviality, and yet there is something in his cheerful demeanor that does not quite register in cold gray eyes. Dressed comfortably in black khaki cotton pants and a dust gray buttondown shirt unbuttoned at the color under a long charcoal pea coat, the only standout on his person is a single pinky ring on his left hand, a monstrosity of gold nugget.
Tarrant does not seat himself, but instead leans absently against the bench. His back is to the fountain. Not that it's an ideal situation, but for lack of a wall. He rummages in one pocket for the schedule from the concert hall, so as to appear busy to passerby, and not simply idle.
Corian is, as may be semi-implied by Tarrant's pose, seated on a bench near the fountain that is to serve as rendezvous point, one hand lightly tucked in a pocket. She does seem idle, but the idle of a patient wife waiting for her husband to decide what in the world he wants to do next, when, really, she'd just like to be at the hotel taking a bubble bath. Amazing what posture can say, neh?
Joshua ambles out around the fountain, a cloud of black and gray and more gray under a pair of black rimmed reading glasses. Probably because he's ardently reading a map and wandering about like any good terrorist. Er, tourist. Aaah, a drink stand. He rambles over to purchase a blue can, as he is an infidel, completely not noticing the couple at the bench.
Tarrant notes Joshua's entrance onto the scene as he notices the rest of the passerby. See, he has no idea exactly who this contact -is-, and is waiting for the appropriate exchange of ridiculous code phrases. After all, isn't that how it works in all the bad movies? He turns a page of the guide he's supposedly perusing, entirely casual in appearance, even if beneath that he's anything but. "Oooh," he drawls amiably, "This looks neat..oh, or maybe...hrmmm. Choices, choices."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Corian is just disappointed that there are no ducks from whom Pavlovian responses can be elicited at the various exchanges. She does, however, look up at Tarrant's words, yanked, no doubt, from thoughts of the aforementioned bubble bath. "What?" she inquires mildly. "Did you wish to see the country and western again? I did hear that they alternate between a few sets, so we might not see the same show again." To all appearances, she doesn't notice Joshua, but instead gets to her feet, the better to take a look at that schedule.
Joshua turns back slowly with a decidedly pleased sigh at the soda, casting an easy grin at the can. If he's noticed you two, there's no sign of it yet. He does push off from the edge of the soda cart though to pad over and lift a foot to rest on the edge of the fountain and watch the crowd pass by. "I wonder how they import the ice?" he comments casually, not glancing at the contacts.
"In diamond shipping containers apparently, as expensive as the soda is," Tarrant replies in a dry tone, sounding rather amused. Maybe he agrees with whoever wrote this particular snippet of dialogue? He nods once simply to Corian and begins to fold the schedule carefully.
Corian absently straightens her jacket, returning Tarrant's nod, though not without a quirked smile for his tone. A brief glance is flickered towards Joshua, and she chimes in, not without her own note of humor, "They charge the same for a soda without ice, though, so perhaps it is the soda that is shipped in diamond containers."
Joshua takes another lazy sip of his soda before nodding once as well and stepping off the fountain to straighten his coat. "Maybe we should all give in and start drinking diamonds," he replies with a quirk of grin and faint gesture of his head. "Maybe it's a good idea to go check," he prompts, and heads towards a shadow containing a doorway, vanishing therein and leaving the door cracked.
Tarrant tucks the schedule into his pocket with careful deliberation. After a brief pause he heads in the direction of the same doorway, casual, but not wandering. People are far less likely to question you if it looks like you know where you're going, after all.
Corian, naturally, follows, a pace behind Tarrant and just a bit to one side. She's good at following, see. Her movements are casual as well, and not as fluid as they usually are, though perhaps deliberately so.
Joshua is half-perched on the lone table in the room, which is lit only by a single, undefinable light source, his arms folded carefully as he watches you both enter. As the door shuts, he nods once more and grins amiably. "Good to see you both made it. You've been briefed with the situation?"
Tarrant nudges the door shut gently, not enough for it to click, but enough for sound and light to be cut off to the outside. He rummages in one pocket for a small handheld device. Before replying to anything he apparently intends to scan the place thoroughly, he's paranoid. He offers Joshua an amiably apologetic look at least.
Corian moves a few paces to one side, leaning lightly against the wall, half-turned so she can see much of the room. Hands tucked neatly in her pockets, she studies the room for a moment before her gaze moves back to Joshua, curious and vaguely friendly. Hey, she's nice, or at least good at faking it, and this is a hard habit to shake. She, too, though, waits for a nod from Tarrant before she speaks. Maybe paranoia is contagious.
Joshua makes a moue of understanding, lifting one hand in a 'go ahead gesture' and shaking his head. "No worried from this corner, certainly. You can call me Stan," he adds in offering with another urbane, slightly oily smile, and flickers a look about the room confidently. "Hope you're enjoying yourselves here. Great fun, this quadrant of the continent."
Tarrant considers the gadget one last time, and snaps it shut. He offers a grin of greeting, "My apologies Stan, I know you must've scanned it already, but old habits die terribly hard. A pleasure to meet you. We've been briefed, yes. The theater for the deletion looks like an ideal location for such. Please let me express my appreciation of the choice." He pauses a beat and adds, "Just call me Victor."
Okay, that question from Stan/Joshua was just the -wrong- thing to get Corian started on, as, for the barest of moments, her smile hints at the absolute enthusiasm that she was displaying for this place in the recent past. She's all pleasant professionalism after that one moment, though. "Wendy," she supplies. Yes, her player watched South Park today. (Eeew, Stan, that's gross!) She nods to Tarrant's words. Too bad she's too small to be a heavy and say "Yeah!"
Joshua chuckles quietly and shifts back off the table, tugging a small instrument from the inside of his jacket and snapping it on to bring up a holographed image of the theater in question. "Victor, Wendy, it's pleasure to meet you. And no worries there, old boy, survival instincts are for the best. Thank you though, we thought this an appropriate setting, if secure. I assume you've cased the area already?" He gestures at one spot on the hologram. "This is where the target always sits, invariably. And our sources say that he's here in the region, as recently as this evening. Do you have recent images?"
Tarrant shakes his head in a brief negative, "Nothing more recent than six weeks." He considers the hologram, leaning forward to regard it intently, comparing it to his mental map. "I've gotten a brief look at the theater, and the schedule, and Wendy's got some photographs."
Corian crosses around to get a better look at the hologram as well. "I was not quite so lucky as to spot the target, so I was not quite able to photograph him. That would have been convenient." She withdraws a hand from a pocket, and, wow, there's an arm attached to it. There's also the camera, which she brought with her, really. "There are a few exterior shots, a few of possible departure routes, that sort of thing." It's a digital camera, so pictures can be seen, including that one of one of the characters found in the park. It just snuck on there, really.
"You've got a recessed niche right here in this balcony," Joshua points out, tapping the instrument to turn the image slowly and highlight the spot. "It trails out through a ventilation shaft here," he indicates, the spot brightening. "It's a short crawl, down into the janitorial area, then out behind Montezuma's Revenge." He pauses, then grins. "If you pair get a chance to ride that one tonight, it's a real killer." And that's not all? Muahaha! He peers at he camera, then nods and tugs a disk from his own pocket to offer to Corian. "Recent images. Atrocious taste in clothing, he has. It's a mercy job, I swear."
Tarrant's brows lower just a bit as he considers the spot on the hologram. He gestures to the ductwork, "But with only the one constricted escape, isn't that a bit..." He pauses to search for a word and instead offers, "Are you sure that's ideal?" After all, it'd be easy to say set somebody to waiting at the end of that shaft, were you an evil double-agent.
Corian is really far too trusting. She's really -trying- not to be charmed, but, well, he's talking about killer rollercoasters! And hopefully not in the literal sense, what a way to go. She takes the photograph with a murmured thankyou, and one brow quirks faintly at the depiction. "What a remarkable fashion statement," she observes to herself before pulling her attention back to the discussion, that brow lowering once more. She does not, it may be noted, suggest that Tarrant slide down a banner to the stage after killing the guy. That would just be too ironic. Instead, she just offers the pictures to Tarrant, gaze flicking back to the hologram.
Joshua considers this a moment, then nods and rotates the image again. "I think I may not of illustrated this well enough." The image zooms in closer. "The niche is completely hidden. The exit at the other end of the vent is equally secluded. At that point, you can depart in a number of directions. Of course, you can always jump to the stage and run off through the backstage door?" he jests with a wink at both.
"Yelling Sic Semper Tyranis?" Tarrant can't help but flash a grin at that. "Nah, I'd probably break my leg." He pauses a moment, as if still not entirely sure of the situation, but at last nods simply. "Not my prefferred method, but I'll bow to your expertise on this, as you have familiarity with the venue." He accepts the pictures with a murmur of thanks, peering at them. "Oh -my-..."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Corian follows the image-rotation with a brief nod, glancing to Tarrant and then nodding at his deferrment words. Apparently she's also good at bowing to expertise. Tarrant, though, does get a look of amused chiding. Yeah, he'd break his leg and all the shrinks would blame Edwin. "If you could refrain from breaking your leg, Victor, I would take that as a personal favor." Ooh, hey, she's turning into Ela. She smiles briefly at the reaction to the pictures, then turns back to studying the holo, as if setting bits of it to her memory.
"See what I mean? A public service," Joshua notes with a faint smirk. "Avoid leg-breaking, though, hmm?" he suggests amiably, tapping at the instrument again to get it to pan down a street. "Now, are you staying for the coasters afterwards for a while? I can suggest some real doozies that'll knock you out."
"Speaking for myself," Tarrant replies with a dry chuckle, "I'd -really- rather skip the leg breaking myself. Hence I shall refrain from stage diving." He taps at the hologram, "Can I get a copy of this?" At the question about the coasters he glances to Corian for an answer.
Corian shakes her head in response to Tarrant's gesture. "Another time, perhaps, when the time is ours. No doubt assignments are piling up for us," she adds, with a quirked smile. "We did manage some of them earlier, though, which was an adventure."
Joshua's brows furrow slightly as he considers the holo, then clicks the instrument off by passing his hand over it lightly, fingers rippling a bit before he offers it over. Too bad the layout of the map it contains will be marginally different next time you look at it. "Use it in good health," he suggests smoothly, then flashes a charming smile at Corian. "Better than nothing, when work piles up. That's what they pay us the big bucks for, eh?"
And as unawake as Tarrant is, he's unlikely to notice such a small change. Not to mention his memory is slightly less than photographic, or else he'd not have asked for the map at all. He accepts the device with a nod of thanks. "I appreciate all the ground work you've laid on this one. I'm honestly amazed they just didn't schedule you for the deletion."
Corian returns the smile, really the picture of sweetness and light. "Just those few that we rode were worth the trip. And I will not complain of our inclusion, if only because it allowed us the excuse to visit here." Of course, that's not what she'll be saying later. She does not quite look at Tarrant, then, though it is to Stan that she speaks. "But it really is rude of me, keeping you here chatting, Stan, when you could well be tired from traveling to get here. Please do forgive me." Isn't she sweetly contrite? Aww.
Joshua shakes his head with a wry smile. "I'm not," he replies. Beside the fact that he's not really all he seems to be. "No worries, Wendy. I'm covert here, can't chance it. That's what you hot shots are here for. I'll be tickled to see the results though, should be real artwork. Now, what else can I get for you? Do you have lodging tonight?"
Tarrant straightens to his full height to stretch absently. "I don't know if 'artwork's' quite the term I'd use," he murmurs in quiet rue before tucking his hands in his pockets. "We have a place to stay, yes." He seems vastly amused, but then he let Corian do the room reservations. You can imagine where they're staying. It's shaped like a roller coaster.
Corian ahs to Joshua in quiet understanding. "Architecture, perhaps," she suggests, with a quick smile. At the mention of the housing, her expression shifts to hold amusement and vaguely sheepish pleasure. Yes, she likes the hotel. "I believe that we have all we need, yes. This looks as if it should go fairly simply, really."
Joshua hrms softly, watching the stretch. No, not -that- way, not that there's anything wrong with it. Maybe just an evaluation of where's best to stick a hypo? Maybe. "Everyone's got a favorite euphemism. Anyway, if you're set, then I'll bid you goodnight. If you two want to leave first, I'll just mosey out sometime later," he offers. "Enjoy your stay."
Tarrant doffs the hat he's not wearing in a polite bow. "Indeed they do. A pleasant evening to you sir, and my appreciation for your professionalism and assistance." He returns the imaginary hat to his head, "Goodnight." He moves to the door, opening it for Corian to precede him.
Corian offers a bow as well--graceful, but not Kashidian--and a brief smile. "Enjoy your evening," she paraphrases Tarrant, before, yes, going lightly through the opened door as if, yes, she's -supposed- to be coming out of the door, really.
Joshua reperches on the table to watch the leavetaking, a rather evil smile filtering through as the door closes again. Cue ominous string music now. Tarrant follows after Corian, with just as much purpose to the step. And as the ominous music swirls to a lovelu ominous theme, the credits for tonights episode begin to scroll by. Executive Producer - Someone who needs caffiene Lighting - Needs a working plug