13519/Snitches Get Stitches

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Snitches Get Stitches
Date of Scene: 06 December 2022
Location: Security: Triskelion
Synopsis: Betsy delivers some information to SHIELD. She meets Agent Aaron and invites him to an unconventional dinner for his trouble.
Cast of Characters: Alexander Aaron, Betsy Braddock




Alexander Aaron has posed:
    SHIELD is a well run organization.
    It executes its priorities with good speed and great intensity. It follows its tasks through and it has a good system of maintaining security and safety measures. It functioned well.
    Yet it was still a bureaucracy.
    And sometimes people get the short end of the stick when dealing with the organization. Which might explain why a simple message delivered by a concerned party turned from an errand that could take ten or fifteen minutes had become... a thing.
    It had started when Elizabeth Braddock walked into SHIELD and was scanned. Her identity recognized and the data they had on her raised the alert level even though she was considered a friendly asset. It was simply the fact she was not SHIELD and her level of power was impressive. But also... she was a telepath. So restrictions had to be put into place before she was shown in, that took about fifteen minutes. Then she had to wait for a sufficiently high level agent was available who had the security measures in place to receive her message. That had taken another forty five minutes.
    Until finally she had delivered her message relayed from Captain Britain to SHIELD which unfortunately made things all the more complicated as the Level 5 Agent, Wayne Tasker, had special obligations in place when dealing with representatives from Avalon.
    "Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Braddock. WAND has to be notified for any communications coming in from that isle. I'll need to get in touch with them and ideally you can be on hand to answer their questions? So sorry."
    And with that he had left her in that rather large goldfish bowl of a meeting room in the middle of SHIELD's security wing. At least she had access to the bagels and cream cheese that were in the middle of the table. And there was a coffee maker on one of the end tables. So there was that.
    Her only company? The TacResTeam agent that was ostensibly there to guard her. Standing against the wall with an SMG tucked under his arm in a side holster. He did not make for very good company.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
As Agent Tasker left the room, Betsy sighed. All because Brian asked her for a favor. How long had she been here? She reached for her cellphone, glancing at the time displayed on the screen. Then a peek at the upper corner to see that her signal was zero. Fitting considering where was was but utterly annoying when she was trapped in a fish bowl with the masked figure watching her to make sure she did nothing to take down an entire skyscraper filled with special agents.

They might be right with that precaution considering who she was and what she could do. But still!

She rose to her feet and moved toward the coffee maker. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks, short black boots on her feet due to the weather outside. A lovely ecru sweater over a camisole top, the V-neck of the sweater showing the matching cami beneath. Once at the table, she found it was just was just that. Coffee. Nothing else. A faint frown marred her features. "Do you perhaps have some tea available?" with a glance over to the mirrored visor.

She turned to walk back to her purse on the table. It had already been checked for any machine guns or rocket launchers and been found safe. She pulled out a lipstick from within and moved toward her guard.

And then she looked at her reflection in his visor and touched up her lipstick.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Outside she could see several agents moving about their business. Some were lingering near a water dispenser, others were walking files or data from one place to another. It all seemed fairly hectic and like just about any office building in the middle of the day.
    Except for the armed guards.
    That one with the mirrored visor was only three to four inches taller than her, and his mask was darker than a silvered mirror, but still served its purpose where her makeup application was required. She asked her question and she saw the guard turn his head toward her. He touched a hand to his ear and said nothing at first.
    Then she heard the electronic modulated voice that was fairly neutral sounding, and sounded just like all the other SHIELD guards, "I believe there are K-cups under the display center, ma'am."
    He gave a nod in that direction.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She took a moment to rub her lips together, making sure the lipstick was spread evenly. Then she moved back to the table and took one of those napkins, folding it in half then closing her lips around it to blot. It wasn't something really necessary with most modern makeup, yet she did it. Then she laid the napkin down, that lovely kiss perfect on the material.

"Thank you." And with that, she was back to the coffee maker. A little searching below, now that she knew she wouldn't get shot for looking there, then she pulled out a few options. "It will have to do," she murmured to herself. She finally selected one and quickly put it into the machine.

As it brewed into the cup she put beneath, she looked his way. "Would you like something since we seem to be stuck here again." She was so ready to be done with this task. "And why are you hiding under a mask? While I do understand they are quite comfortable from the cinema, it seems a tad extreme in this situation. Unless..."

But she didn't finish what she was saying. Instead she reached out with her telepathy, to see if the helmet might protect against that.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    She could sense there were subtle bubbles around SHIELD, anti-telepathic areas of some sort, something that might prevent telepath? Or make it more difficult. But they were perhaps reserved for higher rank individuals or areas. Not this meeting room, and not the Level 2 Agent she was currently in the same room with.
    "No ma'am. I'm fine, thank you." The answer was in that same modulated tone, but at least the word choice wans't exactly like the other agents she's talked to in a similar capacity.
    She asks her question and curiously enough she gets an answer back. "I believe..."
    He starts to answer her question, but she can't hear his tone very well. It's still a neutral computer, "It is to present a unified front and create the societal image of a monolithic entity of governance hence implying an unassailable facade that should not be defied."
    Then those words hang there for a time. Ten seconds or so before he adds, "Or maybe it's just to make us seem scary."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
As he was explaining, the machine finished. Betsy pulled out her cup and tossed out the used K-Cup. Then she found all the amenities including a small fridge with real milk inside. Extra points for SHIELD for that. She fixed her tea up with the milk and sugar then walked toward him as he finished up.

And that had her laughing, a bright smile suddenly on her face. "I suspect it is the latter. The former seems too well thought out for most govermental agencies," she pointed out as she tilted her head to look at that faceless mask. "I suppose to some people it might seem frightening. I am not one of them."

She leaned back against the edge of the table, cradling her cup in her hands then testing to be sure it's not too hot to drink. A little sip then she continued. "Though I dislike the voice modulation. I would prefer you take off the helmet though I suspect that isn't allowed? Might you at least turn off the modulation?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I believe it goes part and parcel with the helmet, ma'am."
    She can't tell, but his head tilts slightly, perhaps a small tell that he might be smiling. Whatever the case, however, she might have gotten a hint as to his humor from the earlier comment.
    "I can notify SHIELD command however if you wish to file a complaint." He lightly touches a gauntleted finger to his ear and seems to be listening to something silently, but he doesn't elaborate as his hand returns to his side. Though he is able to inform her after that. "Shouldn't be much longer, however. WAND is just sometimes hard to pin down."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"If they deal with the things Captain Britain does, this is not surprising. They may have been sucked into an alternate universe." She shakes her head a bit and sips her tea again. Then she turns to look at the offerings of bagels but wrinkles her nose as she dismisses them.

That brings her back to looking at him as she sets aside her cup. She's pulling out her phone as she moves closer, to stand next to him facing the same way. She pauses to mirror his posture. Then she makes a very serious face--and takes a selfie of the pair of them.

A moment later she shifts to a smile and leans her head close to his shoulder without touching, though her dark purple hair might brush against the material of his tactical clothing. Another selfie.

Then she stands on tiptoe on one foot, the other leg bent at the knee in a cutesie pose and makes a kissie face at the side of the visor. Another click.

Then she's in front of him again, showing him the pictures she just took. "You look particularly fierce in this one, don't you think? And to answer your ealier statement, yes. I would like to file a complaint. If I am going to be trapped in a room with someone, I should at least be able to see their face while carrying on a civil conversation. No internet. No phone. No television. This could be deemed cruel and unusual punishment for someone of my age in 2022, you realize." A little tsking noise. "I can't even meditate because I don't trust you. Or anyone in this building, on any real level, if I'm being honest."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As she was going through those movements for each selfie eventually she'd hear the robot voice ask her...
    "Are you... are you doing the Buckingham Palace Guards thing with me?" And though there was no inflection to it to show it, she likely can imagine the indignation there. His head lowers for a moment but then he looks straight back up as if finding the strength of will to go on.
    But when she speaks about filing a complaint he touches a finger to his ear and is silent again. "Very well, complaint #42834-YF filed on behalf of Elizabeth Braddock. Duly noted. Though if you wish to meditate ma'am, I promise I'll stand guard."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Well Americans do it when they come to London so I feel I have a right to do so now that I've found the American version of it," Betsy offers in answer to his question with another of those bright smiles. "I didn't attempt to scream at you though, which is a method I find particularly repulsive honestly. Poor fellows just doing their jobs, wearing the most beautiful yet likely most uncomfortable uniform in the world, and people poke at them." She shrugged and moved away again to hop up on the edge of the table now. The fact she had chosen to do that instead of sitting in a chair is an indication she's getting antsy now with all the waiting.

At his offer about watching if she opted to meditate, she shook her head. "You're already standing guard. You apparently have no choice. You have to stand guard. I could opt to do yoga naked on the table and you'd be forced to stand here. So I'm not sure that is much of an offer."

She sipped her tea before continuing, a hint of a smirk on her face. "Well, not much of an offer on your part. If I were offering to do naked yoga on a conference table, that would be quite the epic offer. And no, I'm not offering." She did push herself back on the table a little, now sitting cross legged there at the edge. She rested a hand on each knee. "I don't trust you enough to meditate either. I mean I haven't seen your face, heard your voice. I don't even know your name."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I really don't think that's a fair representation." The robot-voice says as he keeps his stance there at the door perfectly calm and collected. Though his head is turned just so to follow her with that reflective visor.
    "For one I have been a reasonable conversationalist and responded to you. Also I have tried to keep you abreast of what is passing. Though in a limited capacity I understand." She can't hear any umbrage from the man, though he does speak at a quick clipped pace. But perhaps that was the translation software.
    But then she's railing about his standing guard and how it wasn't so very helpful in truth. Silence is his response to her for a time as he listens, and indeed perhaps wisely holds his tongue during the mention of unclothed yoga as the case may be. Until finally she gets to the end and says she doesn't even know his name. To which he does respond.
    "Agent Aaron, ma'am. TacRes Team."
    Since apparently that is allowed information.
    But then he turns his head to the side, one hand lifting to his ear as he looks a different way to the side and has his gaze shifted to the side longer than she has seen him before. After thirty seconds he tells her, "Shouldn't be long now, ma'am."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"True. I didn't acknowledge things you are doing that are not required of you. Which is the communication and I do appreciate it. But I suspect you are not allowed to leave me here unguarded and thus, you are stuck here as much as me. Though you likely can call for someone to trade out positions with you and I'd be forced to start all over so let's avoid that, shall we?"

She considered him, still holding that perfect posture with hands on knees, back straight, legs crossed in front of her. "Agent Aaron. That is very formal. Again, I suspect that is the best you are allowed to do. I despise being called Miss or Lady Braddock so I will not follow suit. You may call me Betsy." Since he had been nice, he for the less formal first name.

"Are you always like this?" She nodded toward him. "Or do you get to go out and do things? I would think guard duty would be horribly boring under normal circumstances."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As she suggests he not call another guard he lowers his head slightly but nods as he accepts that as a reasonable course of action. He however does turn his helmet back toward her as she speaks to the usage of proper terms of address. Then she asks him a few questions and his helmet cocks to the other side giving an almost canine like tilt.
    "If I may beg the lady's pardon and be so bold, ma'am. You do not seem like a Betsy. Elizabeth I can see. Betsy..." He shakes his head slightly. And thus his judgment is passed.
    But then he answers her other questions. "I am not always like this, no ma'am. Sometimes I am allowed twenty minutes in the sunshine before I return to my cave."
    Of course that's when he touches his hand to his ear again and he adds. "And that's it, ma'am. You're free to go." He steps to the side and opens the door.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
As he passed judgement on her name, she frowned slightly. Then a shrug as she reached for her purse, pulling it over to her lap. Another sip of tea before the cup is set aside then she considers him again as she digs in her purse for something. Not that it's a deep dive. The purse is more the size of a clutch so can't have a lot in there. "Well, I am Betsy to my friends."

Then he mentions the cave and suddenly she laughs again. "Twenty whole minutes? You must be a very good boy."

But before she can continue he pauses and touches his hand to his ear. A moment later, she is free. She hops off the table, turning her back to him for a moment. Then she tucks a pen away back inside her purse and takes one last sip of tea.

She walks over to him, looking up into her own reflection. "Are you required to escort me out?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    When she mentions her name again, she'll hear his rejoinder. "Betsy. It's growing on me." Still the same robot voice however.
    He gestures to the side showing her the way out in case she missed the one door that she walked in through. But she wanders up over to him and he looks at her steadily, that visor unwavering. After a moment he answers her question.
    "No ma'am," Then a beat before he adds, "Technically I'm off duty now." As he says that he moves out into the hall after her.
    Which is when he pulls on the chin panel that clicks down from the helmet and causes a faint hiss of outrushing air to be heard. Then he pulls the helmet off and...
    Well first off his hair is wild, blond and a little long that you'd imagine SHIELD regulations would allow. Though definitely has a case of hat hair. But his features are handsome, a slight smile is there on his lips and he has a few days worth of stubble that in a few more might become something akin to a beard. The black neck piece makes him look like a curious AI drawing mix between Luke and Han disguised as Stormtroopers, only his armor is black.
    "I'll walk you out though if you like." And his voice? Easy-going, casual, as if he had not a care in the world. Even more relaxed than the robot as if that could be.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
As he removes that helmet, Betsy is watching closely. And when he was revealed, that smile is back. "Lovely," she murmurs as she looks him over quickly. Then she is reaching up a hand. "May I?" And when he gave permission, she quickly fluffed his hair with her fingers to try to help with the helmet hair situation. Once it was passable, though not perfect, she let her hand drop back to her side. "Much better. It is a pleasure to meet you face-to-face, Agent Aaron." She peeked at his stubble then back to his eyes, a playful grin now replacing the bright smile. "I take it you are not allowed sharp objects in your cave? Or are you opting to grow it out?"

She strolled down the hall at his side. "I would appreciate the escort out, yes. This place is quite large and easy to get lost in, I suspect." Unless one can read the mind of people nearby in which case not so difficult but she wasn't mentioning that point to him. "Though if you are off work, would you like to go to lunch with me? I do hate eating alone."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    She likely saw that slight half-smirk on his lips that he probably was wearing under the helmet for most of their interaction in the office. It was a smile that was tolerant and seemed to say, 'Fine, do what you like,' even as she was fussing with his hair.
    But then they're strolling along and she mentions him not being allowed sharp objects which he answers with a slow nod, "Indeed, sometimes I go off the reservation and sharpen a stone or a pointy stick, but they always end up taking those away from me."
    He shoots a glance at her, and seems entirely at ease. She was a beautiful woman, and he was an... early twenty something? And yet there was no trepidation to him, anxiety, fear. He just took her as he saw her.
    He continued to walk with her, his boots clunking slightly on the tile floors of the Triskelion. Then she suggested lunch and he said, "I could do lunch, I'm pretty hungry. But I'd need to change first. Can't go about scaring the civilians."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Too bad. You look quite good in it. Now that I can see your face, even better. Though if you had the helmet while out, it would be my little secret what you looked like which has an odd appeal for some reason." She shook her head at herself and smiled again.

It was surprising he wasn't uncomfortable. Not all but many men were. After all, she wasn't the average gal on the street. She had made a good living as a model for a time. Which honestly was a tale unto itself as often people presumed models had every minute with men chasing them but generally? They were intimidated. The ones that were not were often arrogant instead of down-to-earth and thus not attractive to Betsy.

"Go change. I'll wait in the lobby for you. Think about what you would like to eat. I have a reservation but it might be a bit much for the uninitiated," she added. "So we will go where you like. My treat."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "The 'uninitiated'."
    She could hear the air quotes as he said it, walking along that hall slowly with a casual ease. His lip was twisted up slightly and curiously enough he maintained that deadpan tone that was so similar to the electronic voice's tone. Yet with the smile on those lips it somehow wasn't quite as bad.
    "Alright," He pauses when they reach the bank of elevators since he's going to be taking one and she just has to wander down the hall a bit more. He gestures with a nod, "Just past that checkpoint, you can go out there and twiddle your thumbs a bit while I go get changed."
    There's a slight pause as he looks at her, but whatever he's thinking or about to say... he doesn't give any insight into. He just nods and smiles, "See you soon."
    Then he lightly pushes te down button and starts to wait.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
It was almost immediate there was that double ping sound indicating that an elevator was arriving and would be going down. Thus eliminating that need for too much of a wait since Betsy had stopped to wait with him. Then once the doors were opening, she gave him a nod. "Don't make me wait too long. After all the waiting earlier, I am quite ready to put this place behind me," she warned with a grin. Even as she did so, she reached out with her mind to his. Just to try to get some impressions and ideas. Even as she was turning turning and heading for that front lobby with the great SHIELD symbol in the middle of it on the floor, she maintained that psionic touch.

There she took up a spot not far from the front windows and waited. She still hadn't filled him in on her dinner reservations. No elaboration to help him better understand.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The connection between two minds was small, tremulous, just a hint of a caress between two souls. Even as she sees him stepping into that elevator. He does, however, give a small wave twinned with a smile.
    Yet she might not notice it as she makes that connection and feels that roil of energy between them. It's just a small touch mind to mind, and she isn't given that surface thought she is so used to. Instead it's like she drops a single pebble from on high into the darkness of a lake within a cave. A soft ripple that surges over the surface, and then ripples back enhanced and stronger as she catches the first of his thoughts...
    And when she hears them they have a strength of resonance to them, as if the same voice was speaking a hundred times all strengthened together.
    << I'm sure she's perfectly fine... >>
    The voice in his thoughts touched, a side of a conversation within.
    << I should not read her file. Let her tell me what she wishes... >>
    But then he starts to grow more distant, the gently contact fraying faintly.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
That was odd. Betsy tilted her head as she stood in that lobby, wondering at that echo in his mind. She'd not run into that previously. Minds had a certain feel to them, a certain sensation. Thoughts and memories somewhat differed by person even. A person that was more visual would have more images that came to the fore while someone that was auditory would have a lot more sounds in those images. It was an art to learn how to read effectively and not get lost in all the jumble.

Yet he had his own voice--or another?--amplified even as he was thinking to himself. She was tempted to dig deeper but instead withdrew as the distance faded. Technically, she had quite a range with her powers but due to the dampeners in the building at various locations, it could become trickier with distance. Once outside, it would be far easier.

Besides, he wasn't planned on reading her file. She shouldn't peek into his head and just learn like a normal person.

Perhaps she should go get her car, wait for him outside instead. The lack of valet was a bit of an annoyance, in truth. But it was a government facility so what did she expect? But no, she had said she would wait in the lobby so here she would remain.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It didn't take too long, to be fair.
    Just 18 minutes roughly before she saw him emerge from those elevators and step into the hall. She could make him out from his height in part but also that shock of blond hair. He had that same easy-going smile as he walked down the way.
    Not a fashion icon, that's for sure. But there was a certain timelessness in the basics. he was wearing white sneakers and a pair of semi-worn blue jeans. A black t-shirt was tucked into those jeans and over that he had a leather jacket thta was slightly longer than a bomber style, but with clean lines and a look of some wear and tear from the years.
    Once he makes it past the security check point he smiles to the other Agents there then steps toward her. "All set, Detainee Braddock."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"No longer Detainee. Thank the powers that be," Betsy murmured with that playful smirk. Then she exited the front doors before him, immediately turning to walk toward visitor parking.

"Betsy is fine. Or if you still feel it doesn't fit me, Elizabeth works. Though what is your first name, or shall I just call you Agent Aaron all afternoon? Or I can just call you Agent. Either way, you are certain to get much interest from those around us so perhaps that is a good idea. Open up those prospects for you from the people who see you as James Bond."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Betsy," He says, giving in to her wishes.
    But his smile is warm as he walks toward that large bank of doors in the front of the Triskelion, stepping toward those tall windows and moving around the hustle and bustle of the many people within. He takes up a place at her side as they stroll outside once he holds the door for her for the moment she needs to wander outside.
    "So."
    He tilts his head to the side, and she might hear the echo of his words in his thoughts, no subterfuge nor dissembling. "'The Uninitiated'." He declares with a smile as they move into the sunlight. There's still a chill in the air and the sky has an overcast bank of clouds, but at least it's nice. A feeling of the holidays as they wander past a handful of decorations.
    "Are you member of a secret cult or is there something you're not telling me?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Yes. And Yes."

To answer his last two questions. "But that has nothing to do with dinner," Betsy added a moment later as they were walking along the sidewalk in front of the building toward that parking lot. At least it was the close lot, not like the junior agents one which was far more distant. In fact it wasn't long before they were turning into the rows of cars. She obviously knew where they were going, leaving him to follow her lead.

"I have a reservation at Abigail's. It is a special event which is normally held in the evenings but they were doing a showing and since I was in town, I opted to participate." She was established a psi connection again, keeping a light touch on his mind, not delving deeper. She might pick up particularly strong thoughts on his part but nothing else.

"I would kind of hate to spoil the surprise but if you are up for things that are...beyond what is considered normal, then we will go there. Otherwise, name your preference." And with that they stopped next to a red 2023 Mercedes AMG SL 63. The top was down as she figured if it wasn't safe here, it wouldn't be safe anywhere.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    His lip twists into a smirk at her answers, but he's listening as they stroll along together. Alexander's eyebrows climb at the mention of Abigail's and she'll hear in his thoughts that he does not know it, so he listens and nods a little as she explains. His hands slide into his pockets as he strolls along, head tilted to the side.
    "See, now that is tempting." The idea of something beyond the norm. His attention is then drawn to the vehicle as he pauses, drawing up short.
    "You thought it was ok to pick me up in this heap?" Though she can feel that undertone in his thoughts that... he likes the car. Then he looks at her, and for a moment she can see that he thinks she and the car... perfect together.
    Yet he says neither of those things. "Ok fine, it's not bad."
    Even as he's moving to the passenger side.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I know." Because of course she does. She's the one that dropped the money for it. Not that money was an object for her family. Thus, likely why she had bought it. "It was simply too cute. I almost got it in silver but then realized it was just too amazing for that. By the way, can you take care of speeding tickets by chance?" Not that she got speeding tickets. Because in some ways, she was immoral and she would convince the officers to issue warnings instead.

So. Many. Warnings.

She hopped into the front seat, tucking her small clutch of a purse into the console. Then a push of the button to start the engine which was a lovely purr. "If you are certain, Abigail's it is. Though if you hate it once we are there, say the word and we'll leave."

And with that, she moved the shifter to reverse because of course it was a manual transmission. Which in itself was a theft deterrant in the modern age. So maybe she wasn't completely insane leaving such an expensive vehicle with the top down. A screen slid up from the center console which already had Abigail's set for the next destination.

"Do put on your seat belt," she suggested as they moved to the exit of the parking lot, facing that bridge that led back over to the city proper.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "To be fair," He says as he eases into the seat...
    "I'm not going there for the food." Then Alexander slides the seatbelt into place and clicks it gently. He settles in and bites his lower lip for a moment as he looks around. Then sidelong he says to her, "It seems so low."
    Which she'll hear echoed in his thoughts.
    But then he adds, "Though I imagine it's because I am almost always in SUVs and the like." Which would likely make a world of difference.
    As they roll out into traffic he looks at her and asks, "So. I have a question." He starts, and if she gives some sign it's acceptable for him to continue, then he does so.
    "Or rather I have many questions, for I am driven by curiousity. But I also enjoy just learning things over the course of time. But I am curious about why you were handled with such care today by my co-workers." Which was a strange thing to him. Since they didn't classify her as an adversarial asset nor combatant. Yet they did put precautions in place.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She pauses as she considers the question, not sure if she should tell him the full details. Because honestly, it can be a bit much for the average person. They generally got all nervous and shortly made themselves scarce. It was understandable because not everyone was ethical in their use of telepathy. Even Betsy wasn't, though she was moreso than many others she had met in her lifetime.

She paused there at the end of that mostly barren bridge leaving the Triskelion and he would get that sense of something from her. She casually had put her foot on the clutch, reached for the shifter--and a moment later they were barrelling down that bridge. The car could reach 60 in 3.5 seconds according to the manufacturer.

They were actually right. They roared to the other end of the bridge then she quickly braked, gearing down to stop at the stoplight. "Brilliant," she murmured, a bright smile on her face. Only then did she turn her head to look at him as she considered how to answer the question.

"I'll use a quote that I have always liked. Well, a partial one. From a movie. "I have a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you."

And though the line was delivered straight, there was that amusement in her eyes. The light changed and she pulled off at a slightly more sedate pace. Though as she reached out around her, picking up thoughts of other drivers, confirming the direction they were moving, she started to pick up speed. Moving through the cars like she knew they wouldn't turn in her path or interfere. It was thrilling and that is why she did it. Not really dangerous though there were some people she couldn't read so it kind of was at the same time.

"I'm a mutant. Psionic powers. And a hand-to-hand specialist."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As she invokes the movie quote his lips twist a little. And one word flashes into his mind.
    << Nerd. >>
    Yet it's at least twinned with a warm smile and a hint of affection, liking her despite that comment. Though it could also be that she's... a very beautiful woman. And so many beautiful people get away with what others might not be able to. Yet he shakes his head and murmurs when she reveals more of herself.
    "Ah."
    Then he reflects on how his team had to rush to muster to deal with her presence in the Triskelion. So he repeated quietly...
    "Ah." With more understanding to it.
    But psionic powers, he looks at her as she drives. Only keeping half an eye on the traffic and strangely enough... not caring at her speeding. Not worrying one lick about the potential collisions or moments when the hair of other men might turn white. He took it in stride and accepted it. Then he said.
    "What sort of psionic powers, if I may?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
That was strange. The lack of concern about the driving. While this was the norm for Betsy, as she loved the adrenaline rush of it and thus why she opted for the performance package when she bought cars like this, most people were less comfortable when in the car with her. Out on a highway? Sure. But in traffic in the middle of NYC? Not so much.

"You are very at ease," she murmured although she did not dig into his mind for answers. All she would say on the matter as she began to slow a little. Not because she wanted to. But she knew what came next after what she was going to say.

Because, honesty was the best policy. And it wasn't like he wouldn't find out later if he consulted those SHIELD files. After all, she had been an agent herself in her youth over in Britain. S.T.R.I.K.E. Psi Division, which had worked with SHIELD from time to time. So there would be no secrets there, though that file may or may not have been updated for her new appearance as a Japanese woman.

"Telekinesis and telepathy." She she was preparing to pull over to the curb to let him out.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Interesting,"
    Then his smile eases as he looks out across the road as she continues her drive, though it's not a constant mad cap thing, she does seem to enjoy speed and a little brush of danger now and again. "That makes for an curious relationship I imagine."
    He rests his arm on the window of the car, smiling to himself. His hair is almost always a bit wild, but now it's like it's entirely untamed as they roar down the road. She'll see him bite his lower lip for a moment then he asks.
    "Would you like all of my secrets now then, or would you like to learn them organically? Or perhaps I could just produce them at suitable dramatic moments?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
And again, he surprised her. She was still in traffic though had slowed quite a bit but now she found he didn't want out of the car. Betsy stopped at the next red light and looked over at him.

"I prefer organically, though suitably dramatic would be welcome," she admits. "I could have already learned it but that is boring. Nothing fun and it's an invasion of privacy. Though I do admit, I am no saint. I do sometimes peek into people's surface thoughts. Or I might hear them if they are suitably 'loud'." He could almost hear the air quotes on the last word. "It's difficult to explain to a non telepath but sometimes people's thoughts alter in level just as their voices down. Moments of high emotions in particular will often see thoughts coming through to me from others. Just so you are well aware."

She was about to continue when the light changed and she took her turn then continued. The GPS voice let them know they were about five minutes away from their destination.

"You are taking that far better than most people, I have to admit. Many people find it disconcerting and no longer wish to be in my presence." And there is that little grin again. "If that wasn't enough to let me know there is something different about you, the fact they chose you to guard me is. That means they felt you would be able to stop me. Or at least delay me, should I have acted against the interests of SHIELD during my visit."

And she looked over at him briefly. "So while we will learn of each other organically, I do have to ask why they felt you could do so?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "If not stop, perhaps delay." He offers that.
    But he pushes a hand through his hair, one eye scrunching up as something in the wind gets into it. He seems to ponder his thoughts, and if she subtly peeks she might see it's less for dissembling and more... to order them.
    Then, he begins. "I have secrets, but none that trouble me too terribly if they get out. I also have a sort of outlook that would make a good number of tactics against me not as useful." He tilts his head to the side, trying to gauge what the SHIELD hierarchy might have thought to use him as a guard.
    "I'm also a fair hand at CQC, so perhaps that was a strong counter as well." He looks thoughtful, eyes rising. "So that may be it, that we would be a strong match and that if you were able to compromise me I wouldn't be too much of a loss as an intelligence asset. Since... I am not exactly Natasha Romanoff tearing it up in there."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"So you're not high enough on the hierarchy to be a loss to them, outside a physical asset. Don't have all the dirty little secrets in your head like Directory Fury or someone near his level." Since she at least has heard of the man though he was an enigma at best.

"You have to be beyond fair at hand-to-hand to be able to slow me down," she says simply, not really trying to hide that by pretending she was anything other than what she was--which was scary. "Just going by physical abilities without adding in my mutant abilities." She took the next turn smoothly then glanced over at him again. "You have me curious now. What tactics would not be able to be used against you? Are you a mutant as well?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Pretty much," He offers, though she might get a hint of imagery through his mind, small flickers of faces, likely ones she doesn't recognize.
    Then he takes a deep breath and holds it when she asks for more insight, his eyes distance a little, pale and hazel and touched with a hint of hesitation. He looks over at her and smiles, "You see, it's like you want to destroy my sweater. Woah woah woah woah." His voice has a hint of a lyrical tone to it as he smiles.
    Inside his mind she'll then see as he says to himself, << You're a nerd. >>
    But then he elaborates, "Once you pull a thread as I walk away, it reveals everything. So you need to make a choice. Do you _really_ want to destroy my sweater?"
    For some reason those words make him smile, and it's a smile that lights up his eyes.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
It is that moment they reach the restaurant. She pulls up in front and a valet rushes over to open her door while a second opens his. Betsy steps out, handing over the necessary fob/key so that the valet can park the car as she takes her ticket. She also hands the man a $20. "Take good care of her," she requests though in truth, despite the polite tone, it's a warning. Because if they don't? She'll know. There will be no Ferris Bueller chicanery here!

She moves around the back of the car to the sidewalk and joins him, glancing to the business they are about to enter. She does reach over a hand, lightly resting it on his pectoral muscle for a brief second, sliding it over then removing that touch. "Considering? Yes, I would very much like to see you without your sweater. But I don't believe that is what you meant." She gives him a playful wink as she starts for that door, which is opened to invite them inside by a hostess. "Betsy Braddock, for the special event," she says to the hostess and they are taken through the main dining area to another door, then led back into a room in the rear where there are no windows but there are many tables setup. There are a lot of staff here, basically a server for every table as opposed to one covering multiples. The lights are very low but there are also candles on the tables for atmosphere, giving it a very subdued and almost romantic feel.

As they had walked, she had continued. "But keep your secrets for now. Just do not be annoyed if I cage my answers a bit in the future." Since she had been fully open with him about her mutancy and abilities at this point. They were led to a table where she settled in, glancing around at other tables. Some had one person, others couples, a few with many. No children. All adults.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    He can get that slight hint of anxiety, that feeling of unease and he doesn't want her to feel that way. So as they're walking into the event hub and the restaurant, when they're waiting to be shown to their seat he takes a deep breath, then leans to the side.
    And quietly he murmurs into her ear, "I don't feel fear." He confesses, and when she meets his eyes again he gives a smile as if reiterating the statement, or standing by it. "And I have an irregular psionic pattern."
    Then he looks to the hostess as she passes by and he smiles, before returning his attention to the woman at his side.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
That did ease that discomfort. She'd felt a little uncomfortable since she had been open but he was not being. Though she did understand he was an agent and thus was likely limited on what he could tell people. "I have noticed the latter," she said, which did let him know she'd seen something in his head at some point. "Briefly. I have not peeked since though at times you are loud and I pick up words. Nerd seems to be one of your 'go-to' terms," she added with a bright smile.

She did tilt her head curiously. "No fear." It could be taken a couple of ways. He could simply overcome it, be someone that presented themselves as fearless. Or he could mean it literally since he said he was sort of like a mutant in a sense. Which had her more curious and wanting to ask a few hundred questions.

But that would unravel the sweater.

Before she could speak again, a woman appeared and spoke into a mic that filled the small dining room they were in. "Good afternoon. Thank you for joining us for this special dining event. We hope it will be everything you have anticipated."

Which is when the servers appeared at each table. Two arrived at their table, each coming to their sides. They held cloths of some sort in their hands. "We will begin shortly but wish you to familiarize yourself with your tables. The candles will be extinguished once you are blindfolded. At that time, you will enter into a sensory exploration that involves hearing, smell, touch and taste. A meal shared in a way few have experienced. This meal will take approximately between one and two hours. If you need to visit the restroom during that time, simply ask your server and they will escort you from the room to visit the facilities. If at any time you are uncomfortable or wish to end the experience, simply raise your hand into the air and your server will remove your blindfold and allow you to exit. We do ask you maintain silence during your exit to not ruin the experience for others. The meal will begin in five minutes."

And Betsy then gave him another of those smiles. "So, while you aren't afraid of it, is blindfolded dining perhaps a bit too unconventional for your tastes?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I actually picked that up more from one of my squadmates, he uses it all the time." Alexander confesses about how the word 'nerd' pops up so often and sometimes in a voice that's not his own, as if imagining that friend's tone of voice.
    "No fear, and it's not a noble thing. I just don't feel it. I'm not brave." He tells her that, and she can feel a subtle echo in his thoughts perhaps, as if he was not proud of that aspect of himself for some reason.
    The woman approached their table and he smiled gently up at her. "Thank you." He says as he looks over at Betsy to see if he can glean any hints from her visage. But he cannot.
    When the servers arrive and start explaining his eyebrows rise. He shares a look with Betsy as he realizes what they're in for. He seems pleased as he gives a nod. Then she might hear in his thoughts an older man's voice as this seems to key in his thoughts in this moment.

    << Tis always best to be paid in the coin of an experience, money is fleeting. >>

    Then she asks if this is too unconventional he smiles and looks in her eyes and tells her, "No, it's always best to share an experience with someone. Especially a new experience."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Excellent," Betsy decides when he doesn't opt to turn tail and head for the door. Maybe it's that lack of fear. Maybe it is something else. She already knows he finds her appealing in some way from the little hints in the car but it was nice to know he wasn't one to balk at something unusual.

Too many people limited themselves on life experience by not wanting to step out of their norm. Though that other voice she caught in his head was interesting. Perhaps an elder in his family that had offered him this sage advice? Though it was a strange way to phrase it. Sort of more in time with the past. Perhaps grandfather then.

She glanced to the waiting servers in their tuxedo like attire, both the males and females dressed the same. Then to the dark blindfolds in their hands. Another glance to Alexander.

"Let the adventure begin."