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 Track Ops: Reflection

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Iliana
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:53 pm

Ace had to hold back a reflex to snap at Marce when he used her 'full' name instead of the nickname that she had come to live by. It was sorely tempting to just reach over and smack him since they were stopped and waiting for traffic anyway. She settled for just glaring at him viciously when he wasn't looking for a few moments, then looking away. Damn prick, putting emphasis on the one thing that he knew she didn't want him to say. Why had she even told him? At least he didn't know her full name yet. She wouldn't have kept herself from hitting him if he used that.


As they pulled into the parking lot, she twisted slightly in her seat and unbuckled a second before they had really parked. The faint click came just before the engine cut, meaning that there was no sound coming from her other than her own breathing as they just sat there at first. She glanced out his window as she heard the screaming woman, then looked at Marce when he looked at her. It was a mistake, to actually look at him like that, but all he said was about the office. She looked away, but then he spoke again and she looked back to him with a startled expression.


'I'll take care of you'? What was that supposed to mean? His tone and expression made it less like the threat it could have been and more like.. reassurance. It almost made her think that the whole going to his work thing was going to be okay and that he wasn't going to let them kill her. Almost. Until she remembered that she was sitting next to Marce Jove, who knew who she was, and he was escorting her to a government office after brushing it off as an unimportant errand. Still, there was that little part of her that wanted to believe him..


"Do you promise?"

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:00 pm

"AND CAN I HAVE EXTRA TARTAR SAUCE ON THAT FILET, PLEASE MAM?"

Marce's current thoughts were instantly shattered by the gritty, Southern accent of the woman screaming from the open window of her Corolla. He crash landed back to reality, looking dead at Ace who had asked him a question, one he did not know the answer to. He dug his own grave with that one, speaking without really thinking about what he was saying. Sure, he wasn't going to let the woman die or anything but he didn't specify what he mean by protect. One thing was for certain, as many people would try to get their hands on her and the information she carried with her, but Marce intended to keep that as confidential as he could make it. So, in all honesty, he had no answer to her question.

So, he didn't answer.

Instead, he opened his door, slamming it calmly before pressing the lock button on the keys as well once Ace was out of the car. Time shouldn't have been wasted with them staring at each other, listening to the sound of one another's breathing in a hot Vic with no AC on. He'd much rather have an unanswered question and a McGriddle. Sunlight pelted down upon his head, turning his hair from its usual black to a chocolate brown instead. The heat was not as strong as the light, that was for certain. He quite enjoyed the heat. It sure did beat being in that blizzard just days before. Marce would have taken being hot over cold any moment of the day. For some reason unknown to him, when he thought of the word hot, his eyes flicked to Ace and the way she walked, like she owned the asphalt.

"Must you do that with your hips?"he growled, verbally challenging her to answer, but still unable to keep his eyes away until he was forced to open the door for her, motioning her inside. Hopefully, through the doors of the public place, she'd bite her tongue and act civilized.

And then I would sprout horns and breathe fire.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:01 pm

Ace didn't say a single word as Marce got out, instead opening up her own door and shuttig it more quietly than he had. There was no point in saying anything. He hadn't replied and that was as good as a 'fuck no'. Why he had bothered to say anything about it in the first place was beyond her, but now she felt as though she had opened herself up and he let something painful inside. She trailed after him to the door, lost in thought until he snapped at her. Confused by whatever he was talking about, she stepped inside and waited for him to come in too until she bothered to respond.


"Do what, exactly? Walk? I didn't know that you intended to carry me around like an invalid, Marce. Sorry to inconvenience you by assuming otherwise," she muttered at him, keeping quiet since there were kids around. She got in line with him and scanned the menu, inwardly sighing.


"Hotcakes are fine. I'll eat anything. I'll be back," she said after a moment, pressing a ten dollar bill into his hand before wandering off to the restroom.


She sat on the edge of a sink in the deserted bathroom, half turned to stare at her reflection. Okay, so what? The fact that Marce was being a confusing asshole shouldn't matter. He was nothing but an agent for an organization that she didn't care for, but had helped. So why was she upset? She frowned at herself and pulled her hair out of the bun, running her hands through it a few times in an anxious gesture before putting it back up. Okay. Deep breaths. Just a little while longer and then it'd be jail or a bullet to the head.


Piece of cake.


She washed her hands out of habit before walking back out, joining Marce at the table he had chosen since she had taken so long in the bathroom that he already ordered and got everything. Sliding into her seat, she didn't even look up at him before accepting whatever he had chosen for her. No point in saying anything and arguing more - or, worse, getting more silence in return to questions.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:04 pm

Marce looked down at the crumpled 10 his hand and almost laughed aloud. She was pulling out all of the cards on this one, knowing good and well that he planned on purchasing the breakfast himself. Ace was apparently obsessed with making him look like less of a man than he actually was. Well, she didn't know about all of the hours he would spend at the gym, keeping every muscle of his body in shape for anything he needed done. Every muscle. She didn't know about how he swore on his life to protect anyone who asked it of him. Marce couldn't look at someone in the face when they called to him for help and just...sit there. Even when Ace was in that water, she hadn't called to him for help, but she did answer his question.

She also must have not known that he had more money than she took for granted.

Marce payed for the meal, carrying the tray to the table after giving a thanks to the lady behind the counter. She had blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, wrapped by the bold, black McDonald's hat. She eyed his every movement as he ordered the food, from digging into his pocket for his wallet, ruffling his fingers through his hair, and licking his lips before speaking. Poor dove didn't even know he saw everything. Sad. He placed the tray on the table, sliding in the tiny booth to take his seat. He could practically feel the heat radiating off of Ace as she made her way back to the table, sitting and taking her food without a word. Marce couldn't help but to pull a smile from his lips, setting the 10 on top of her hash brown.

"I don't suppose you want to talk to me. That's fine. There's something I have to tell you."he said, fingering his straw nonchalantly before taking a sip of tea, exhaling at the crisp taste of it. He paused, bringing his eyes from down to his cup to her eyes. "You need to sleep with me."
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:05 pm

Blinking as Marce gave her the cash back, she glanced up at him before putting it back in her pocket. Honestly, the reason that she had offered it to him was not to make him look bad. If she had wanted to do that she would have started screaming that he kidnapped her while they were standing in line. No, she had just thought that since he was putting up with her and had fed her from home last night, he deserved a bit of a financial break.

Plus, she didn't want to assume he was going to pay for her since this wasn't exactly a date.


She cut up her hotcakes and had just started to eat when he started talking. Nodding absently, she barely paid attention. Something to tell her, fantastic. What would it be? Oh, by the way, this is your last meal. Enjoy? Or maybe it'd be something more like, I'm handing you over to the government after this. She mentally shrugged and just waited, taking another bite right before he announced that she needed to sleep with him.


Thankfully the fact that she was blushing like an idiot was covered by the fact that she started coughing and half choking on pancakes, which gave her an excuse to be flushed.


"Excuse me?!" she managed, staring at him blankly once she recovered.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:06 pm

"You heard me. You need to sleep with me." And with the end of that statement cam a bite out of the delicious McGriddle.

He even went so far as to moan in happiness when the sweet syrup from the Griddle coursed down onto his bottom lip, tongue ready to fetch it if it drooled down anymore. The egg and sausage were the perfect combo to the bite as well! He was eating an entire breakfast wrapped into one single sandwich. Ah, McDonald's how advanced you really are. Marce was all smiles and nothing more. It had something to do with the reaction he pulled out of Ace with his statement. She turned into a cherry, turning red in every single portion of her face. Her choking wasn't so funny but it did manage a snicker or two out of him when the food went down the other pipe, he assumed, all the while, Marce munched down on his bliss of a breakfast.

"Who would've thought? McDonald's is actual a great place for breakfast, obesity and all."he commented, grabbing his hash brown that had lay untouched on the side of his tray into his hands. It was piping hot to his fingers but he neither hissed nor flinched when the hot grease met his teeth. As said before, Marce learned a lot of endurance in even the smallest of things. He had to have a slight area of expertise in any and everything he did. For example, if he were ever kidnapped, Marce would know exactly how to forge a leathal weapon out of shoe laces.

"Yes. Me and you. My bed. Right after we get this thing done with the office."he said simply, blue eyes stabbing hers as his tongue trailed the tip of his straw, trying hard to hide the smirk forming at the side of his lips. "Got it?"
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:07 pm

Despite being completely blindsided by the comment that was obviously meant to sound dirty, Ace recovered fairly quickly. She assessed the look in his eyes and on his face as he ate, taking a sip of her own drink. He likely meant it in a completely different way than it sounded, she reasoned. Maybe he just wanted them to sleep together literally so that he didn't have to sleep on the couch again.. which didn't make sense since if he was in his bed, she'd be on the couch. Or maybe he had some dastardly plot. Yet, maybe he really wanted to just screw her brains ou-


Stop thinking that way, Ace, Jesus!


"I hate to disappoint you, Marce, but you're not really my type," she said after he looked up at her again, her voice calm as a smirk colored her expression. However, it was rather hard to watch him toying with that straw since it only made her think of how deeply he had kissed her by the lake. She cocked an eyebrow at him and looked down, cutting off a piece of pancake and munching on it to collect her thoughts - while effectively ignoring that girly squeal in the back of her mind that was fawning over the sexy man in front of her.


"You know, they used to have a booming drug business upstairs here a few years ago. Sometimes they'd sprinkle crack on the food just for fun before giving it out," she said absently. It was only half true - the business was true, the sprinkling not. She just wanted him to stop teasing her and think of something else.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:10 pm

Marce was thoroughly entertained with the entire ordeal. Never before had he seen a woman lose her cool over a simple statement, whether she knew what he meant or not. By the way she reacted, he assumed that her mind was waltzing around the gutters, passing the dirtiest thoughts that her head could hold. His had some stories as well, but that wasn't the time or place for it. He just enjoyed seeing her suffer.

"Not my type, huh? I would gladly debate you on that fact, but as you said, you don't want to disappoint. That protective bubble you put around yourself is beautiful, but I can find ways in and around it."he said with a casual wink, as if his words did not practically vomit seduction. Still, Marce's social drive had to be put to an end. Remnants of his sandwich lingered on his grey and white Hollister shirt which he simply bushed away. The tea he got was the perfect delicious to the meal he had, ignoring what Ace said about the drug business upstairs. Standing up to his full height, he grabbed his tray regardless of whether Ace was done or not. It wasn't his fault she liked to eat like some old town mistress.

"I have a schedule to run on. Just reminding you."he said before whisking himself away from her. The trash can that had the flap with the words 'Thank You!' engraved in them was right next to the entrance door. Marce passed it once, whistling a tune in accomplishment of the reaction he pulled out of Ace. His day was off to good start, after the whole bird charade, that was. The tray had been emptied with two taps against the trash can. He even slipped the paper advertisement that was on the tray into the trash. Marce always had a habit of doing so when he came to McDonald's, which was a rarity. Once the task was completed, Marce whispered a 'Mission Completed' inside his head, shoving his hands into his pockets to walk back to his table.

Everything from that second on was a blur.

First, he saw it before he knew it was going to come crashing in through the entrance door, shattering glass and nearly getting ran over. It was because the headlights were on. At 8 in the morning. In the sunlight. Marce's eyes darted to the door and saw the two beams before being able to register what was going on. The first and only thought in his mind was that whoever was in that car, be it a drunk man, old woman, or someone dangerous, Ace's life was in peril. He snapped his head to the back of her head, watching in that split second, how she was eating calmly, not aware of the car about to crash into the store.

"ACE!" His shout was quickly followed by ear-splitting sounds of shattering glass. The glass, somehow, seemed to avoid him. The car didn't. Marce's body was struck by something he assumed to be lightening, coursing a great deal of pain into the left side of his body which was strew on the floor. The car, a white one, had soared right in, hitting him directly before the screech of burning rubber sounded, cuing for the car to back in reverse. It was going to hit him again.

Marce gritted his teeth in pain and annoyance at the loud shrieks and shouts of the entire restaurant. People were flinging themselves here and there to get to safety, taking in no regard for him. Hell, he didn't take regard in himself. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't him he was concerned about.

"Ace..."he managed to choke out, hearing the car rev up into drive again.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:10 pm

Ace was rather glad when Marce stood up, even though he took most of her food with him. She managed to snatch her hashbrown up before he went, awarding him with a very fierce glare to the back of the head that he, unfortunately, couldn't see. What was he playing at? The only explanation was that he was messing with her, but she didn't understand why. Revenge, she supposed. Enjoying making her uncomfortable. Maybe he was used to teasing women. He was certainly attractive enough to torment them like that - not that she'd ever be the one to inflate his ego even more by telling him such a thing. She finally came to the conclusion that Marce was just being a butthead and the best thing to do would be to ignore him.


I am rubber and you're glue..


Munching her hash brown contentedly, she waited for him to come back and snap at her for still eating. He had only been gone less than a minute before she heard him yell her name. Startled, she whipped around to look and her jaw dropped slightly as she saw the car smash in through the entryway of the restaurant. Marce was struck down, and it was almost as if she was watching it in slow motion as he fell to the floor amidst all of the shattered glass.


No!


She was out of her seat before she knew it, running over to him to see if he was going to be alright to walk. The roar of the car cut off her assessment, and she grabbed him instead, pulling him across the slick tiles. They just barely managed to get out of the way before the car was inside again. She ignored the screams of everybody else and just continued tugging Marce across the floor and away from the car. Chances were, whoever was in it had a gun and she did NOT want to be in the line of fire right now. She made it to the side door and moved outside with him. Their car was in sight, but dragging him across the parking lot would be rather painful, she suspected. There was no way she was just going to leave him here and bolt.


"Get up, you lazy old man. We've got to get to the car."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:14 pm

"HEY! GET BACK HERE!"

He was glad to be in his right mind when everything was falling around all around them. The pain was making him more angry than in anguish. His body was being dragged across shards of glass towards the infamous side door, used mostly for the customers who parked behind the store. For Marce and Ace, it only meant a harder way to get back to the car that was in front of the store. His weight was too much for her to just drag around the parking lot nonchalantly, especially while there were people chasing them. Even at a time like that, she was still being silly. Silly or not, she saved his life for the second time since their meeting, and once was enough for him. A shard of glass dug into his pants leg, annoying his thigh with the prickling.

"Stop...I...can't get up while you're dragging me..."he voiced. Whatever motive the driver of the car had, it involved running them over. Marce was sure that the car could out run them if it wanted to. He'd rather be captive than dead. His face twisted in an annoyed pain when he forced himself to stand next to her. It was a trial but there was no way he could sit there in this type of situation. All of the facts were lined in a straight line from Ace all he way to Marce. How they managed to track the car number, he had no idea, but it was too much of a coincidence to ignore. What if it were Ace that were the one walking from the trash bin other than Marce?

Marce's left leg bucked in a small pop when he stood to his full height, but it was a snap in the right direction. For the longest of times, it had remained numb immediatly after it was struck with the head of the car. An instant beanie bag feeling snaked its way up every vein in his leg, temporarily disabling him from any movement...at the worse of moments.

"Jove, is it?"

"What of it?" The response was forced from gritted teeth and clenched fist. The slur was all that was needed to know that Marce couldn't bull shit anything around the man. Merenzo, from the rolling r's to the enunciated i's. There were still shouts of surprise and fear from McDonald's, confused women rushing here and there looking for anyone to save or any shelter to hide behind. Managers and employees placed their concern with the front door and calling the police. It was pathetic that Marce's phone would ring a second later.

"Cautious, are we? Do you know how hard it was to chase you and Reflection around this time in this early of the morning?" The man curled his tongue on his lips when he was done finishing his question, which Marce did not take to be rhetorical at all. Leg cramping or not, every other muscle in his body was on alert, ready to attack and defend at the slightest will. He also had to take Ace's state into consideration as well...but...she didn't get hit by a car.

"Rhetoric never amuses me."

"Not very hard at all. You're actually very easy to hawk." The man said, trying to flick his greased hair out of his eye. The man had some length on Marce. Maybe 3-4 inches. He lacked in brawn, but if he was smart enough to follow the two of them to a casual eating and manage to hit Marce directly, out of all other people, he was a very wise hawk indeed. Marce's face stayed stone and placid even when the man walked over from his crudely parked car, some feet away from Ace. The cops would have been on their by now and the man had abandoned his own car. He had some balls, and big ones if he thought he was going to just scuddle next to Ace untouched.

"I kill birds of prey." This man only laughed and took a step or two more up to Ace. Marce practically growled from within his throat, piercing him with a glare that could have melted metal if he were part of some cheesy comic.

"And I am Palon Dianto. Pleasure, yes?"He asked directly to Ace.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:16 pm

"Come on," Ace urged anxiously, watching him as he stood up. He looked terrible, honestly, but she didn't mention that since he probably knew it. She glanced around, then looked back at him and winced as something popped. Ugh. This was bad. Who in the world would have-


Oh no.


She whirled to face the source of the voice and froze at the sight of him. Her heart sank immediately. She recognized him. Feeling like she might have a seizure at any moment, she just stared at him as he spoke again. Wait, he called her Reflection. He didn't know who she was. Relaxing a tiny bit, she frowned at him. This was bad. Even though she looked rather different than the last time she caught a glimpse of him, he was bound to notice at some time or another. She thought about it as she waited for Marce to respond to him. They had never actually spoken, so the possibility of going along unrecognized was fair. Perhaps relaxing was her best bet right now. Yes, relax. Act like you see people driving into fast food places all the time while sitting with a government agent.


Piece of cake.


Looking over at Marce as he seemed to be recovering. She was a lot more worried about his wellbeing than she cared to admit, even to herself. He looked okay though, for the most part. Better than it could have been for getting slammed with a car. She frowned slightly and looked back at the Merenzo asshole. He was moving closer to her, but she didn't flinch away. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and gave him a scowling glare.


"Oh yeah, definitely a pleasure. I have to say that having my breakfast interrupted by some idiot driving like a drunkard is a real perk in the morning. A nice, refreshing wake-up call," she retorted, figuring that would stop his advance if all he thought she was was a nice piece of ass. Then again, he did know her alias, so he probably wanted answers instead.


She was about to say something else when the wail of sirens made her glance up. Though not in sight yet, the cops would be there very soon. What did Palon expect to achieve in that span of time? He hadn't even drawn a gun. She reached for her own, only to find it missing. Oh, that's right, Marce had stolen it. She'd have to smack him for that later, if they survived.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:20 pm

Dammit, Ace.

She was giving him bait whether she knew it or not. Her attitude was compelling; look at what it had done for him for God's sake! Before, she had been an enemy, not that she was an ally now, just...not an enemy anymore. The way she talked didn't hold any space for violence. She was all sarcasm and not bite to back it up with, with or without her gun, which could've really came and handy. Marce shot her the most obvious 'what-the-hell-are-you-doing?' look he could muster, trying hard not to let the Palon see. Then again, this guy was a 'hawk' so he said. He probably saw the entire thing.

There was a greasy cackle from Palon when Ace finally finished her ranting statement. Sure enough, he found it more interesting than violent as he should of. He dismissed her just as quickly as he talked to her, handing his attention back to Marce who was the real threat then.

"I'm surprised you managed to find her."

"I have ways."

"Government ways, I assume?"

"I don't have to tell you anything." He all of a sudden didn't sound so threatening anymore when he and Palon shared eye contact and unsaid words. It was quite clear that Palon wanted Marce dead; why else would he have hit him with a car? The real treasure here was Ace and the information she harbored in her head. That pretty little head of hers was gold to the BAD and the Merenzo's. It was a tug-of-war over which deity got her first. Marce's face fell into a deeper frown at the assumption. No woman should be treated like a prize, trophy, or item. True enough, she did hold a lot of very valuable information behind her lips, but that's not why the BAD want her. She, in a way, is a victim as well.

A far off siren swam into the air around the three who stood placidly behind the destruction of a main fast food restaurant. Neither of them moved.

"In a sense, we are two governments. We just run things differently," Palon said wistfully, leaning on his hip as if he were just having a chat with his other child-killing buddies. "For example, you BADs like to shoot first and wonder questions later. Rion didn't deserve to die. He was just doing his job. Isn't that what you all say? It's all a part of the job?" The man's voice was become less stable and shaken. It was when he spoke of the Rion person. Marce hated to think which one of the Merenzo's that was that either he or Ace killed.

"We do what we do to protect--"

"Yourselves. You do what you all do to build this moat at your fucking perfect feet, don't you?" Palon's pale face drained in a light pink of frustration. Marce stared at him for a moment, reading the strain in his features as if he were reading Green Eggs and Ham. This man was on the edge of snapping, and he still hadn't moved from his spot, even when the sirens screamed louder and louder.

"Oh, that's what you Merenzo's are doing? Protecting young girls?"

"We do whatever we want to them. Innocence is sin."

Now, it was Marce's turn to snap.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

Palon had talked about the girl's as if they were some street prostitutes. At the very image of what he and the others could've done to them...Marce lost what little string he had tied to civil mannerisms. In the small span of a millisecond, he swung his elbow directly for Palon's jaw, missing by just an inch. Palon was faster than Marce gave him granted for, as hawks usually are.

"Defensive, are we?" Something was pulled out of the left pant pocket, gleaming in the sunlight. Sirens, sun, and anger blinded Marce's way of thinking. He had no strategy, no tactics, nothing. He just swung his fist towards Palon, eyes never shifting to the object in the Merenzo's hand.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:22 pm

Ace was both pleased and annoyed that the Merenzo idiot decided not to respond to her. It was pleasing because the less interaction that she had with him, the less of a chance there was of recognition - plus, he made her want to smack him, so that was a bonus. However, she was also ticked that he proceeded to talk to Marce as if she wasn't there, while they were talking about her. Rude. She wasn't a child, she thought irritably as she crossed her arms. A moment later the humor of her thoughts and actions caught up to her and she uncrossed them, a bit of a smirk on her lips for just a second before it faded.


Ways. She basically set off a beacon for him to follow. Oh yeah, you've got skills, Mr. Jove.


She glanced at Marce as his tone changed a little, taking advantage of his distraction to just look at him for a minute. It wasn't fair how he was so attractive and had to be on the opposite side of the line from her. Oh well. Enough daydreaming about your enemies, Ace. That one's a pipe dream and might as well get tossed in with the hopes of ruling Russia.


Mmm, Russia.. snuggled up in a log cabin in the middle of a snowstorm with Marce and a nice bottle of vodka..


A siren snapped her out of her thoughts, thankfully. It was really bothersome how her mind was wandering so much. She blamed the stress of the situation.. as well as Marce. He had to be blamed - it was his fault.. somehow..


She looked at Palon as he spoke of the girls, scowling at him. It was sickening to hear him say that they did whatever they felt like as though it were the most natural thing in the world - and she knew that he truly felt that way. She glanced at Marce as he gave in to his fury and swung at Palon, but he missed. This wasn't good. A tiny flash of light caught her eye and she didn't stop to think - she just reacted.


"Marce, no!"


She took a few rapid steps forward and turned, placing herself directly between them, facing Marce. Putting her hands up to brace against him in hopes of stopping him mid-stride, she pushed hard. She had to stop him - he could be killed.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:25 pm

"God Dammit, Ace, what are you d--"

He heard it before he saw it in her eyes. It was the same sound as scissors slicing through a flimsy piece of cardboard: gut-wrenching. It was louder than the sirens, louder than the chaos at McDonald's, louder than the heartbeat beating through his ears. Marce and Ace stared at each other for what felt like forever. The size of their eyes were the same, it seemed: wide and shaking. Marce ignored Palon's presence for those split seconds while his hand hovered in the small gasp between he and Ace.

He saw so much in those small seconds of horror in shock, all the while, his muscles spazing and shaking in small doldrums. He saw what may have been the last remnants of life in Ace, just as he had a great few months and years ago, with other females. The same wide and shocked eyes, as if they had just received some gift they did not want. The same white washed face with low cheek bones, jaw moving only to let their lips part a bit in a scream that would probably never come. And, of course, their large pupils, peering right at him. Through him.

Marce Jove was watching Grace die right before his eyes.

Palon cared not about her body as he viciously yanked the knife out of the gaping hole in her lower back. Marce heard Ace grunt in pain again before the swaying and stumbling began. Palon simply took his knife caked with Ace's fresh blood and wiped it on the end of his shirt, looking down at it in disgust.

"Pity. Now I have to heal the damned wench and do some dry cleaning."

Marce didn't think. He couldn't. Not anymore. Just as Ace had suddenly pushed her way through the squabble to protect him, he reacted just as fast when Palon's sentence finished leaving his lips. A certain animosity possessed him and coursed through every vein, flowing and boiling all the way to his very core. Jaw clenched, Marce took one very large step in front of him, holding his left arm when Ace fell into it, giving her body support, while his other hand dug into the crease of his belt and waist line. In the midst of all the sirens growling and roaring dangerously close to their destination, the BAD op did not pull his eyes away from the Merenzo.

Even when he pulled out Ace's lovely hand gun, aiming and blasting Palon in the face in the very same second.

Blood was the first to spray across the cracked cement in the parking lot with brain matter being the second. A couple of by standers or so watched as Marce killed a man in front of him without even flinching. They screamed loudly and most likely pulled out their phones to dial the cops that were already on the way. He didn't care. He just stared at the crumpled body of Palon, half of his face somewhere in the handicap parking spot. His hand grew heavy with the weight of Ace's body and his leg trembled from the earlier beating it took by the car. Still, nothing else seemed to matter as much as Ace did.

Marce did the last thing he thought he would: He dropped to his knees, clenching Ace's body in his arms. He knew for a fact that she wasn't dead, but seeing her life hanging on the edge of death was just as bad.

"He's gone..."he whispered, wondering if she would hear him, or if the cops would tackle him minutes later.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:26 pm

It wasn't even a full five seconds after she stopped Marce from impaling himself on Palon's blade that Ace felt the pain that she hadn't anticipated. She hadn't thought of the consequences - all she had thought of was saving him. Now all she could feel was pain and a spreading numbness that was strangely cold. She gasped silently, trying hard to scream but nothing would come out. Her eyes remained locked on Marce's as he stared at her, and she saw his changing emotions easily.


Anger, irritation, confusion, surprise, realization.


She managed to cry out slightly as the knife was pulled from her, falling forward weakly. Luckily Marce caught her and held her up for the most part, but her main focus now was trying not to pass out. Her vision hazed and she had to blink several times before she was forced to give up. Everything was blurry and she saw at least three of Marce. Odd. She shivered and flinched a bit at the sound of a gun shot, thinking that Marce had been killed and she had failed. But, no, he was still standing and a loud thud announced somebody else was down.


The sirens were growing louder and louder and the screech of tires proclaimed the arrival of several cops, most likely called at the first sign of the gun. She didn't even notice that Marce had fallen to his knees - all she knew was that he was still holding her. Her vision was getting dark around the edges and she closed her eyes, only half hearing the shouts of the cops as they were surrounded. The civilians were being ushered away and the restaurant cleared out, the whine of an ambulance racing closer.


She managed to open her eyes after a minute or so, the pain gone and replaced by the strange numbness. Pity the other times that she was shot it hadn't felt like this instead of that horrid pain. Oh well. She gazed up at Marce, wanting to say something kind or comforting like dying people always managed to do in the movies. Nothing came out. Oh, Hollywood. How dare you deceive the masses yet again.


A passing thought caught her attention before she passed out. If she died now, Marce wouldn't have all of the information he needed to save those girls. He could fail. Her work would have been for nothing, and the girls would die, all because she hadn't been fast enough. It was her fault.. again.


I'm so sorry, Marce..

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:30 pm

"Ace...?"he choked out when he didn't hear her say anything. Her glazed eyes landed directly onto his. It took him a minute to even realize that his eyes were open; he could have sworn he closed them. He could have sworn that he burst into tears, grabbing her vaulting body and squeezing it as tightly as his burly arms could. There was no reason for him to let go. What was done was done. Palon was dead, the cops were coming, Marce and Ace were both hurt...what more could he have done? What more could the BAD ask him to do other than to take care of Reflection? To make sure that she was alive, well, and ready to speak? Marce watched as she slipped into blackness, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"Don't do it, Ace. Stay with me. Ace. Ace."his voice had become fearful but still had a commanding undertone to it. He simply refused to have her pass out in his arms after all of that. Her hot blood was running on his shirt, seeping through to where Marce could feel the sticky liquid against the soft brown curls on his chest.

"ON THE GROUND, NOW!" Right on time, the cop car's slammed open and the guns were pulled. Marce expected nothing less. The department phones must have been ringing off the hook from so many different cell phones and complaints. There was a trashed restaurant, a dead body with half a face, and a man hugging a woman's body. The scenario was screaming FBI and detectives. There was blood everywhere and on everyone: Marce, Ace, and the remnants of Palon.

"NOW! LET GO OF THE WOMAN!"

"She's mine..."

"I SAID LET...GO...OF THE WO--"

"She's MINE!" Marce yelled throwing his reddened face up towards the cops. His eyes were burning in fury and rage while they darted from cop to cop. All of the Decatur Police Department looked to be there. There were cops of all races, genders, and sizes, and they were all pointing their guns at Marce Jove. He was the only one in the middle of the chaos that was conscious and willing to give answers. Palon sure as hell wasn't going to answer anything. One cop to his far left, a man at that, lowered his gun at the immediate sight of Marce.

"Wait...you're Marce Jove of the BAD."

"I am."he said, glaring at the man. Challenging him. Marce wanted the man to say something about him and what he did. He was hoping that the cop would tell him his rights and handcuff him with no remorse for the woman lying in his arms. He wanted the attempt, just to give Marce a reason to attack every single last one of those bastards.

"What happened here?"another cop decided to ask, lowering his Beretta the same way the other cop did. It was like a wave as every other cop lowered their gun the same way. Marce's blue eyes darted from one cop to another, still holding onto Ace protectively. After all of that, there was no where Marce was going to let her go. He had to hold her as tight as he could to stop the bleeding.

Yes...that's why he was holding her so tight. To stop the bleeding...

"I need a doctor..."he finally said, His gaze dropped back to Ace and her still body that was growing cold. Marce flinched at the drop of temperature in her body and the blood oozing from her back, sticking to his fingers. No. Not like Kelly. "I need a doctor! Someone call a doctor!" The first cop that noticed Marce reached for his grey, Lego shaped radio, pressing it up to his lips.

"We have a 103 Ender at 65 South Wood Lane. We need an ambulance dispatched from Unit 22. I repeat, we have a 103 Ender at 65 Sou...."

The rest of it drowned out of Marce's ears when he pressed the side of his head to Ace's chest.

He forgot why he did it.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:32 pm

Blood.. Knife.. Spine.. Bandage.. Stitch..


Words kept leaking into the numb blackness that had taken over Ace's mind, and it was starting to get irritating. Floating around in a void of nothingness may have been a bit frightening, but it was also - in a way - relaxing. She could almost enjoy it.


Almost.


After the words came the sensations. Ever so slowly she became aware of a discomfort. Unforunately the discomfort didn't stick around and was rapidly replaced by pain.


Oh god! Ow.. ow.. ow!


She tried to squirm and yell at whoever was poking and prodding her so with what felt like a sword, but nothing happened. Instead, she just barely managed to open her eyes. She took in a few details - like, for one, she was laying on her belly. That had been impossible to distinguish at first. There was an odd pressure against her back, and at least three people were talking. Something was strapped to her face that was insanely annoying, but she didn't have the strength to tug it off.


She passed out again.


When she came around the next time, she was laying on her side and somebody was trying to talk to her. She honestly had no idea who it was since her vision was all sorts of fucked up, but she was leaning toward male. Marce? Maybe. Probably just some random guy. What had happened? Oh, right, McDonalds.. Palon..


Marce! Was he okay?! Did he end up getting hurt?! She remembered a gun shot but.. Oh god, was Marce dead?!


She forced herself to focus, having been turned at some point to lay on her back. There was a light above her that she looked at, examining it thoroughly until she realized that she was picking out details. The blur was gone. Relieved, she attempted moving, but her middle ached horribly and she quickly stopped trying. Ugh, that was going to be sore for a while.. She frowned a little and looked around, trying to figure out just where she was.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:36 pm

They tried to get to him as well, but Marce wasn't having that shit. He wasn't going to have a paramedics trying to work on his leg while his accomplice was lying on her stomach, bleeding from her back. Well, the bleeding was the first thing the paramedics had tended to. Ace's body had turned a cream white 8 minutes after being stretched into the ambulance. It was even harder to pry Marce away from her. The cops that surrounded him earlier had enough sense not to question him about what happened in that parking lot. The op was disoriented and not ready to explain anything. He only wanted something to pay for what he had been going through. Palon's death was not enough.

Palon. It made him think of how many other Merenzo's knew where he stayed and who was with him. One of them nearly killed Ace, even though that was not there wish. They needed her alive, but this Palon was not careful in trying to kill Marce. The fight may have been similar to the squabble he had with the Merenzo the night before, with the taser and the lake waters. Marce wasn't expecting Ace to do what she did, and couldn't wait for her to wake up so he could chew her out about that. He had a lot to chew her out about. She just had to wake up for that to happen.

The cops decided to leave Marce and Ace in the same position until the ambulance eventually wheeled into the lot through the wailing sirens. The pedestrians and passerbys were forced to their cars or somewhere else. Palon was beginning to....decompose in the 8 oh clock heat. It wasn't a pretty sight and Marce had no idea why people would enjoy seeing that kind of scene. The only reason why it didn't affect Marce was simple: he was used to it and he wanted it. If he could have done it his own way, he would have had the man disemboweled. Eventually, a nice lady in a white and cerulean suit motioned for Marce to carry Ace to the stretcher behind the ambulance. Marce remembered looking up at the woman with wide azure eyes at how kind and sweet her voice was. She flashed him a bright, pearl toothed smile she may have given a lot of victims, but it worked. Marce blew out a defeated exhale and nodded to her, cradling Ace close to him...

That felt so long ago.

"What did you do to her?"

"I...it wasn't me! It was a Merenzo!"

"The question, Marce, is how you managed to let a Merenzo fuck up a peaceful Decatur, Georgia morning at one of the most famous fast food franchises and littering his brains on the pavement near approximately 22 fucking civilians?"

"Dammit, he stabbed a woman!" Marce snapped, followed by a loud pang! after he slammed his hand on the table in front of him. The sound reverberated throughout the cold office of the Bureau in downtown Atlanta. The slam was followed by a brown eyed glare from a large man in a suit.

"YOU KILLED A MAN, JOVE!" Bob Public's cheeks flapped and flared after he bellowed his statement at Marce. Pushing his hand harder down on the table, Marce rose to his feet, slamming his other hand on the table as well.

"I KILLED A MERENZO!" Bob was a whistling tea-pot, mouth gaping open, shuddering with hard inhales and exhales. He was fighting hard not to bite back at the young BAD op, but his attention strayed when his beady little brown eyes towards the shuffling on the small leather couch behind the two. Bob's line of sight was caught by Marce until the two men wheeled to face the awakening disaster herself.

"Ace..."Marce mouthed in a hush whisper. Bob closed his quivering Jell-O like jaw and cleared his throat.

"Some trouble you've gotten this Bureau into." Marce crossed over the table without taking his eyes off of Ace. The color was starting to wash back into her person, making her look less like a marble statue and more like a woman. He bent down in front of her, cupping her chin in his fingers and turning her head to the side. Her skin, still as soft as ever, was even starting to get the small pink blossoms of blood back into her cheeks. A good sign, no doubt.

"You okay?"he asked, making sure to ignore Bob's statement. She was...well, better than before, and even though he had her at the last place she wanted to be, he wasn't going to bombard her with questions and slap her on the wrist. That could wait until later.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:39 pm

Ace realized after a little while that she could hear yelling. Before she could focus on it enough to figure out who it was or what was being said, the voices calmed and Marce appeared in her line of vision. It was so sudden that she blinked a few times, shocked. He was here, he was alive, and..


He was touching her.


She stared at him for a moment when he asked if she was okay, then shifted and threw her arms around him. Oh, god, that hurt like hell. It almost wasn't worth it, to tug him down like that into a relieved embrace. She held him there for a few moments, assuring herself that he really was solid and perfectly fine. After that, she released him and sat up more, realizing too late that she really shouldn't have done that.


Oh, shit. He was never going to let that one go.


"That never happened," she muttered at him, feeling a little better the more she moved. That is, until she took a good look around and her location really set in. Bob Public, a man she knew only from reputation and a few surveillance pictures. The office setting. Her heart plummeted and she had to work very, very hard to hold in a groan of dismay.


Seriously? Being stabbed wasn't enough torture for one day?


"I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that we aren't here for tea and cookies," she said, pausing halfway through to wince as she shifted position. Damn it, this was going to take some getting used to. Making a mental note to beat Marce with a very large stick later, her deep hazel eyes stayed on Mr. Public.


Olé.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:43 pm

Well, damn. It wasn't his fault that he got extremely defensive when the woman suddenly lunged her entire being at him, arms spread out first. He thought she was ready to jab him in the face or something else equally painful and unable to wait until the two were home. Ace had every right to be angry and on the offensive, but Marce wasn't ready to feel anymore pain just yet. Getting hit by a car was more than enough for one day. The pummeling he feared he was going to receive was nothing more than a swift hug. The hug scared him worse than the pummeling would have.

"She sounds fine to me."

"She just got stabbed, Bob."he said, finally managing to pull away from her. The awkward moment was over and Marce Jove was back to business, tearing himself away from Ace when she realized where she was. Marce played the innocent card, blinking at her statement with his eyes in a mock-expression of shock.

"Well, we do have some of those things in the lounge, but I don't see why that would matter now."he responded, lifting his black eyebrow.

"Refle...er...Ace. You know why you're here and you know what we want. The sooner you cut the bull the faster we can get these things moving. I understand that you were maimed by one of those Italian fucktards, but if you're well enough to hug a man, you're well enough to answer some questions and get this fucking mess sorted over." Bob obviously liked to abuse the f word whenever he deemed necessary. It was fitting, in a since. His mass alone made him the 'Big Boss of the Bureau' in the eyes of all of his underlings. When he said any equivelant of the f word, they all knew Bob meant some serious business. Marce didn't like how he snapped into business mode that quickly.

"Can we give her a minute?"

"Yeah, sure, why the fuck not? Let's give those girls a minute."Marce grit his teeth behind closed lips. Bob was also an asshole.

"First, I want a name."
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:50 pm

Marce's smartass comment earned him a glare. Now she was reminded of why she wanted to punch him right in the babymaker. How dare the mere risk of him being injured get in the way of her well-deserved loathing. Damn logic. He was a BAD operative, not her friend and certainly not.. well, anything else. She eyed him with a scowl, then looked over at the big bad boss man. It was obvious he was impatient and already in a rotten mood with her.


Ooh, she had a reputation. Nice.


She gave Bob a sweet smile as he threw out curses and let his irritation be known. Awww, somebody missed nap time. Before she could respond, Marce stepped in. She blinked, startled, and looked up at him. A break? Why did he want to give her a break? It wasn't like she had coughed up any new information for him to run with. Infuriating man..


Marce Jove: Master of Mixed Signals. Maybe she should call him Mixie and see if he responds..


"I don't see why you'd want a name, Mr. Public, given that you already have one and have had one since birth," she commented airily. If he was going to be a dick, she was going to make him dance in circles. After all, she had the power here. If they killed her or pissed her off, they'd never know anything.


"I assume you meant that you want to know who's in charge of the whole operation or some nonsense like that. Well, I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I made a deal with one of your agents in front of witnesses. I have no plans of breaking that deal," she went on carelessly, then leaned forward a bit and regarded Bob steadily.


"If you want those fucking girls to come out of those fuck holes with their fucking lives intact, you'll leave me the fuck alone and honor the fucking deal that I made. I'm not fucking talking to you."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:53 pm

Marce was so greatly tempted to whistle at Ace's last statements, but Bob was already a burgundy, blubbering fool. He didn't want to worsen it. Right off the bat, the two were at each other's throats figuratively, and Marce didn't want to know what it'd be like if they were at each other's throats literately. Ace did have tricks up her sleeves even when she is wearing a tank top, and Bob? Well, he was the boss of a great deal of BAD operatives. Marce was suddenly looking forward to the literal fight.

Still, the conversation was nothing to play about; completely not a joking matter. They were still discussing the lives of little girls that have yet to been saved. It sounded all sorts of wrong when Marce concluded that Kelly was a 'special case', being the Senator's daughter and all, but that was no excuse to lollygag around when it came to the others. The women didn't need to be relative to some head of power or have some special thing about them in order to be considered top priorities. That was someone's daughter. Someone's sister. Someone's friend. And, quite honestly, what kind of country would America be to distinguish the necessities of each and every child's social standards?

Less than the piece of shit country it already was, he knew that much.

"What the fuck kind of person makes a deal over matters as this?" Bob through his confused glares to the two of them. Marce looked over to Ace, wondering if she was going to go into details about the deal. Somehow, he seriously doubted that she was willing to do anything to help out Bob. It was Marce or bust.

"She's not going to tell you. She's sworn to tell me and only--"

"Oh sweet fuck, ARE YOU SHITTING ME?"Bob shouted. Now it was his turn to stand up and slap his anvil hands on the desk in front of him. The sound could have shaken the lamp off of the stand with its sheer force. Marce didn't make a single move. He knew Bob only did it for the attention. Little did he know that Marce seriously doubted Ace was going to be shaken up by a loud noise.

"This is serious! There are girls out there and you're the only one who knows where the fuck they are! You two are making deals behind the backs of the fucking government! This a fucking national situation, not a fucking episode of Saving Grace!"

Marce tried his hardest not to laugh at the last part. He just lifted one eyebrow and remained absolutely stoic.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:54 pm

Ace crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at Bob as he demanded to know who had made the deal. Not saying a single word, she simply sat there and stared at him stubbornly until Marce spoke up. Bob's response was, in short, amazing.


She couldn't help but smirk as he stood and slammed his hands on the desk. Not even flinching, she just watched him. Aw, the poor baby was throwing a tantrum. His face was such a delightful shade of red now, she almost wondered if she could force it to purple.


Worth a shot.


She was going to respond, but then Bob went on to swear more. As if that was accomplishing anything. It was his last comment that made her blink. She couldn't help it - she started to laugh. Only Marce would understand but of all the shows he could pick.. Really? Saving Grace? Oh goodness..


She shook her head a little and stood, going slowly to avoid straining her injury.


"Look, Bob. I appreciate that you're under a lot of stress since you're in charge or whatever. It's probably a really rotten job. I know I sure as fuck wouldn't want to deal with assholes like Marce day in and day out," she said, giving the object of her 'affections' a glance with the hint of a smirk before she turned back to Bob.


"However. If you don't honor this deal, you aren't going to get anything. The end. You want the girls, then you shut your trap and say goodbye. Maybe even wave for good measure as you show us out of your office. You really should relax after we're gone, too. I'd recommend watching t.v.. Maybe.. Saving Grace?" she recommended sweetly, wandering over to him as she spoke until she ended up right in front of his desk.


She gazed at him steadily, hoping that her eyes conveyed the fuck-with-me-and-you'll-get-fucking-nowhere feeling that she was radiating right then.


Oh, Bob. You need to get laid.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:57 pm

"What?"

Ace ignored his question and continued to explain to Bob Public what he seemed to be missing. She didn't go into details about the deal but she did make it perfectly crystal clear that she was not going to tell him anything. Bob strained his lips and jaw closed tight while Ace went on her small tirade. The man was usually the one to make people clench their faces in restraint. So many times there was a inkling of blood lust in everyone's person when Bob spat at them and damned them to the gates of hell for no reason. He was the one who set rules and motion, gave orders, and did things the normal ops like Marce had no business disputing in. Ace, on the other hand, had nothing to do with the government and surly didn't want to. Whatever she told to him was straight man to woman.

Bob, believe it or not, was absolutely speechless.

His beady brown eyes did their best to keep a steady contact on Ace's, maybe even a menacing one. But that wasn't going to happen. Ace had already won the debate when she awaken from her slumber, if one could call it that. Marce looked up at the lower regions of her back, the only view he could get of wound she took for him while she leaned forward to Bob. There wasn't much to view behind her tank but stained blotch of blood and a heavy coating of some other fluids and medicinal liquids Marce had no notion of asking about. They had to give her stitches and keep her sedated in the ambulance while they did so. One of the male nurses commented that Ace 'was a fighter'.

That fact scared Marce shitless.

"If you two ladies are done, I have something I need to do." Marce waved his hand in the air as if the debate between Pinky and the Brain never happened or was a total bore. He finally took his blue eyes from Ace's lower back (with much force), and locked them between Bob and Ace frequently. "Ace, why don't you stay here with--"

"Get her out of my fucking office."

"Okayyy, then follow me."he shrugged, tapping Ace on the shoulders while giving her a look that screamed dont-say-another-word-or-ill-handcuff-you-to-this-chair-with-this-asshole. An ass hole, huh? he thought smirking at her through the threatening look.

Ace gave him far too much credit.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:59 pm

Fun.


Ace was having fun.


The way that Bob was obviously struggling against his inner desire to throw a stapler or something at her was just beautiful. Combined with the fact that he appeared three seconds away from a seizure, it was by far the most amusing thing she had seen since Marce hauled her from that stairway. In fact, she thought that she might even see hints of the purple she was going for. She kept her expression the exact same as she waited, but to her surprise, the man appeared to have lost his urge to spew garbage at her. Had she honestly struck him speechless?


Ace: 1, Bob: 0


She turned and looked at Marce as he spoke up, interrupting the hostile silence by suggesting that she stay and play nice with the big angry man. Unsurprisingly, Bob threw her out instead. So, he took her suggestion.


She noted the lack of waving, though, and severely doubted he'd sit back and watch Saving Grace.


"You could try saying please," she pointed out to Marce, though she walked out of the office with him anyway.


Once the door was shut, she allowed herself a quiet laugh and shook her head. Another enemy to add to the tally. One worth visiting again later, maybe. Perhaps she could even force him to act nice to her once they found all the girls. God, she'd pay to see that one..


"So, are we done here? I really need to make a stop before we go back to your place.."

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