Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 8th-14th Options

[Vegas]

21:40:11 Monday 08 January 2063 – Northeast corner of 46th St and West Bay Run Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Mac watched his trained and fluid movements reloading the clip and his weapon with a mix of genuine curiosity and morbid fascination. She kicked off her stilettos to the floor of the Rover and tucked her feet up underneath her, wrapping herself up under her jacket.

"So now we wait?"

Her question drew a silent nod from Kovacs

"So how much would it cost of the guy was an insufferable prick?" she raised an eyebrow en pointe to her question. She was actually thinking about this, how easy it could be to get close, or get someone in close enough to reach Wayne in his office. She wondered what it would be like to pull the trigger. Sure she had a Remington stashed unr her bed at the apartment, but that was for show as she'd never fired it an anything beyond makeshift targets whe learning to shoot.

She shifted again in her seat, finding herself mildly turned on at the thought of being the one to take Wayne out. Tonight's events were tapping into that darker side of her psyche. Roses, chocolate and flowers worked for most women, but not Mac, darker, dirtier things tripped her switches, and she wasn't sure it got much darker than murder for hire.

[grendel]

21:43:07 Monday 08 January 2063 – Northeast corner of 46th St and West Bay Run Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Kovacs' gaze slid across Mac, his eyes cold and black in the pale green illumination from the instrument cluster of the SUV.

"Personality doesn't really change the price. It's all a function of how difficult it is to get to the target."

His mouth works as if he's tasting something filthy, as if he wants to say more, but in the end, nothing comes. He returns to watching the streets outside. Other than the faint pivots of his head as he scans the rooftops and skies, he's as motionless as a statue.

[Vegas]

21:45:13 Monday 08 January 2063 – Northeast corner of 46th St and West Bay Run Ave, Redmond, Seattle

She moved again on the seat, rising up slightly onto her knees and faced him, holding his darkened gaze, wondering if she was pushing her luck.

"If someone, no, if I wanted to hire you and the accesss and security was as easy as coming through a door, like tonight... " she let her voice trail off.

[grendel]

21:48:26 Monday 08 January 2063 – Northeast corner of 46th St and West Bay Run Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Inside Kovacs was a cauldron of seething ice. He knew what she was asking, had guessed it when she pressed him on the details earlier. His body was still in combat footing, adrenalized, eager, predatory. He could smell the arousal that rolled off her, intertwined with the heady scent of her perfume and the cordite residue of expended gunpowder. His cock ached for her, and without conscious volition his hands curled into claws, ready to tear her clothes off, to hold her down while he spent his rage on her and in her.

He'd already used her, that much was true. She'd been available and easy and he'd used her just as he would any other tool to accomplish his mission. That knowledge made his guts twist, because as much of a child of the streets as she was, this life was brand new to her. She didn't know that another darkness awaited her down this path, a cold and sinister shadow that would wind its way inside of her, pulling at her soul with icy razors.

Kovacs looked at her, at the slim woman he'd saved from death, who was now asking to make death's acquaintance. He'd made peace with himself a long time ago, accepted his predatory nature. But the toll was unmistakable. He didn't sleep at night. Not with the dreams. He stayed away from people, knowing that eventually he would either use them as a means to an end, or kill them, or watch them die as people tried to kill him. There was nothing else, no hope for change, no chance of salvation. This was penance for a life spent on the razor's edge of the shadows, of doing whatever was necessary to succeed and survive.

"If you do this, there will be no going back. This isn't something that can be undone. Once you start down this path, only darkness and death await. You should forget tonight happened. Wipe it out from your memory. You should forget me. Walk away and never come back. Be a student. Be a wife, a mother. Keep being a whore. Be anything you want. But don't follow my path. You'll end up selling much more than just your body."

[Vegas]

21:50:38 Monday 08 January 2063 – Northeast corner of 46th St and West Bay Run Ave, Redmond, Seattle

There it was, that sting of rejection again. Her voice trembled slightly when she spoke.

"You make it sound like its so simple. I've tried to get out from under his thumb, to live my life on my terms. At this rate it will be three lifetimes before I can make it happen."

She closed her eyes and fought back the tears, shaking her head.

"I don't want to become her, end up with some loser who has a insatiable need for young girls..."

She was rambling now, reaching for her shoes and fumbling to put them on again.

"I can't just forget what happened tonight, what happened on Saturday, what you did, what you've done. I wish I could, but it's not that simple. I'm not a chip you just erase when I'm no longer convenient. If you want me to go..."

She reached for the handle of the door.

[grendel]

22:06:14 Monday 08 January 2063 – Northeast corner of 46th St and West Bay Run Ave, Redmond, Seattle

"No, I don't want you to go."

Despite the electricity of the statement, there was still no emotion in Kovacs' voice. Mac glanced over at him, her hand on the door, her body poised.

"I just don't want to see you make the same mistakes I did. There is always another way. It may not seem like it now, it may seem like this is the only way through, the only recourse left to overcome this obstacle."

Kovacs stopped there, taking a deep breath before letting it out. This was not the way. He knew it because if their positions were reversed he would not have listened either. The fever had burned hot in his blood during his youth. Sometimes he really wondered at how he managed to survive those impetuous times. He took another breath.

"I've got something to show you at my place. Afterwards, if you still want an answer to your question, I'll answer it."

Headlights flashed over them, cutting off anything Mac might have said in reply. Kovacs checked his SMG again, making sure his longcoat covered it adequately.

"Stay here. If drek gets dicey, use the truck to get out of here. If I'm alive, I'll find you."

He slid out of the driver's side and into the chill of the night. On the opposite side of the intersection as the Land Rover idled a Toyota Elite limo, not quite as flashy as a Nightsky, but a luxury corp ride none the less. Kovacs kept his eyes scanning, checking the rooftops and the empty windows, flipping through the spectrum in an effort to defeat the shadows that crowded around. The doors to the limo opened, allowing a pair of bodyguards to step out. Kovacs halted a respectable ten meters from the vehicle, standing on the passenger side closest to the sidewalk.

The rear door opened and closed again, and de Medici emerged into the snowy night, his slim frame turned bulky by the heavy insulated great coat he wore.

"Good evening, Kovacs," he greeted warmly, without any of the reproach he might feel for being given the ultimatum.

"It was until you called," replied Kovacs. He held out a small OMC in his left hand. "Guncam footage, as requested."

de Medici traded the chip for a pair of certified credsticks. "You're one of the best at what you do, Kovacs. I don't understand why you shy away from that reputation. If I could rely upon you in the future as I did tonight, I could make you a lot of money."

Kovacs pocketed the credsticks. "No, you wouldn't understand. I've told you before, though, I don't do that kind of work anymore."

He turned and walked back to the Range Rover. He listened, though, for the sound of movement behind him, for the hint that either of the bodyguards was shifting into position, and drawing a weapon. Instead, he heard the sound of car doors slamming, and the heavy rumble of the Elite's engine as the vehicle U-turned back the way it came.

Climbing into the driver's seat, he pocketed one credstick before skimming half the funds off the second and passing it over to Mac.

"For services rendered."

He put the SUV in gear and pulled away from the curb, headed back to his house. Mac glanced down at the credstick balance, her eyes going a little wide. 2500 nuyen!

[Vegas]

22:09:51 Monday 08 January 2063 – On the 405, Redmond, Seattle

As the rush of tonight’s events started to wear off, Mac was painfully aware of how sore and tired she felt, scrunched up in the front seat of the SUV as Kovacs drove through the darkness, back towards Renton. She couldn’t stop looking at the certified cred in her hands, checking and rechecking the balance as they drove. She couldn’t remember the last time she held this much in her hand that actually belonged to her and her alone.

“Kovacs,” She whispered. “You realized this is more than I’ve made in an entire day, right?”

She shifted again in the seat and pulled out the original credstick he had passed to her before going into the club and offered it up to him, still warm from being pressed against her skin under the dress.

“I suppose you’ll want this back too.”

Resting her head against the window, it wasn’t long before the constant purr of the engine and the drive itself lulled her to sleep for the remainder of the drive home.

[grendel]

22:43:02 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Kovacs pulled the SUV into the garage, killing the engine at the same time he sent the command to close the door. Just like his vehicle, the light on the overhead didn't illuminate with the action. He waited until it was fully closed before exiting the vehicle. He glanced over at Mac still sound asleep, curled up beneath her long coat, looking frail and child-like. He opened the side door of the SUV, pulling out the gray ammo can from beneath the bench seat before walking around the front of the truck.

Reaching beneath the workbench that dominated the rear wall of the garage, he found the hidden maglock keypad. Punching in the ten digit code, he held the last number in for several seconds, long enough for the maglock to scan and verify his fingerprint. The bolts retracted with muted thumps, and he swung the workbench away from the wall, ducking through the opening.

Inside the narrow alcove was his armory. Unclipping the P93 from its assault sling, he set it on the rack to be cleaned at a later date. The ammo can went into the stack against the side wall, another gray brick only differentiated by the stenciled caliber on the side.

Closing the concealed door behind him, he moved around to the passenger side of the SUV. Carefully opening the door, he lifted Mac into his arms, taking her weight effortlessly. He bumped the door closed behind him, carrying her up the stairs into the kitchen before laying her down on the couch again. She murmured fitfully in her sleep, rolling over and curling up once again. He draped the blanket over her before turning out the light.

With the smooth economy born of long practice he stripped out of his armor, hanging the suit up and spraying it with unscented anti-microbial spray. The bruise on his chest was a vibrant purplish-blue, yellowed around the edges where the sharp edge of the trauma plate had passed more of the energy on to his skin. He hissed in pain as the water sluiced down over it, but a quick probing convinced him that it was only a bruise, no broken bones lay beneath it.

Stepping out of the shower he was hit with a sudden wave of fatigue, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open long enough to towel off. He'd been on combat footing for the better part of four hours and he'd reached the limit of his reserves. With a tired sigh, he hung his towel up and fell into bed. His last thought was of reaching for the covers before sleep claimed him.

03:08:11 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac wakes with a start, blinking her eyes in the inky darkness of the early hour. Her hand goes to push the hair out of her face, and she stares around in some confusion before recognizing the spartan lines of Kovacs home. She groans softly, scrubbing her hand across her eyes, her mouth feeling dry and cottony. In the silence of the house, though, she senses something wrong, some reason why she awoke.

It comes again, a hoarse, strangled cry from the back of the house.

Kovacs!

Mac threw off the covers and was about to get up when she heard the door to his room open. In the shadows of the house she can barely make out his pale silhouette as he moves slowly down the hall, passing through the living room and into the kitchen. Through accident or design he is unaware of her observation. The light over the stove goes on, and she hears the water run into the teakettle before it rattles on to the burner. Quietly rising to her feet, she pads to the entrance of the kitchen, a bit of deja vu striking her, remembering how they'd stood like this just a night ago.

Kovacs leans against the sink with his back to her, his head down, his shoulders shivering as he weeps silently.

[Vegas]

03:10:01 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

The scene was repetitive and familiar, yet so different. So much had changed in just over 24 hours. Too many dichotomies to the man who was standing with his back to her. Gentle yet ruthless. Kind yet cold. Protector and Assassin. Still the aguish in his voice that woke her to the position she found him in now… A piece of her wanted to do whatever she could to make it “better” whatever that would be, and the other parts of her rationally put her guard up, unsure of how he’d respond to anything she did at the moment.

The small piece of her won the internal battle.

She closed the distance between them, her feet padding almost silently across the floor before she reached forward to place her hand on his back and spoke softly, calmly with a hefty dose of concern in her voice.

“Hey?”

[grendel]

03:15:21 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac could see his shoulders stiffen at her approach, and wondered at just how sensitive his eyes and ears were. But he made no move to stop her from resting her hand on his back, his skin cool to the touch.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I didn't mean to wake you. Would you like some tea? It helps me sleep."

"Sure," replied Mac, still searching for some way to reach him, some gesture that would convey her concern without being misunderstood or misinterpreted. Their friendship, if it was that, was still so new, so much ground uncovered between them. The thought made her smile, though, even as he turned away to retrieve the mugs and the tea strainers. They met just two days ago, yet he had already seen her at her worst, and here he was at his most vulnerable before her.

In the end, she settled for leaning on the counter next to him. He used a paper towel to wipe away the moisture on his cheeks before blowing his nose. They sat in silence for a moment. Then he glanced over at her.

"I've got some sweats and a t-shirt if you'd like to change out of your dress."

Mac blinked, realizing for the first time that she was still in the little black outfit she'd worn to the club. And that the skirt had ridden up almost to her hips while she slept. And that she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. And that her makeup was probably thrashed. She stole a look over at Kovacs, but his gaze was on some internal horizon, his eyes unfocused. The whistle of the teapot brought him to awareness, though, and he turned off the burner, pouring the steaming water into both mugs and carrying them to the table.

[Vegas]

03:16:39 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

She nodded her acceptance of his offer of a change of clothes, but made no move to leave his side. When he took his spot at his table she sat to his immediate left instead of across like the other night. The scent of the tea as it infused was relaxing as it wafted to her nose. She reached over and placed her hand over his as she tried to keep his attention for used on her.

"is it always like this, after... You take a job?"

[grendel]

03:19:07 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Kovacs shrugged, the warm citrus tea calming the riot in his mind.

"It's always like this."

He wondered, momentarily, what he could say, or if he should say anything. If there was any purpose to bridging the gap between them, if it was even worth the effort. In the end, though, it wasn't any of those things. It had been too long since a body had been close enough for long enough to listen.

"In the moment you do what you have to do in order to accomplish the mission, in order to survive. You eliminate, you kill who you have to, you commit the gear you have to, you leave behind the wounded if necessary. To haunt the shadows like a predator, you have to live the law of the jungle. But the shadows take their toll. They extract it, piece by piece, just a bite at a time. So you don't really see it, don't really feel it. Until it's too late. Until you have nothing left. No friends, no family, no lovers, no memories of anything but the shadows. Nothing of you but the claws and the fangs of a predator. Nothing human."

It came out in a torrent, a flood of words somehow articulating thoughts he wasn't even aware of considering. Once started he couldn't stop it, could do nothing but speak this truth as he stared into the placid surface of his tea. The memories came rushing back at him, the faces of his team, how they looked in life and especially how they looked in the last moments before death took them. Their features twisted in terror, lust, rage, apathy, all illuminated in one brutal, brilliant muzzle flash. And after them, the ones he killed. Twisting shadows at the time, his mind painted their faces in stark detail. All of the fathers who had to bury sons, all of the wives he'd left widowed, all of the children he'd orphaned stared at him in his dreams.

Kovacs took a deep breath and then a drink of tea.

"This is why I don't want you walking my path."

[Vegas]

03:21:41 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

The feelings behind Kovacs' words were tangible in the room and Mackenzie felt guilty for pushing him earlier. For demanding answers to questions he obviously didn't want to open up to. She chewed on her lip for an moment as his words sunk into her. She wondered, never having taken a life, if the emptiness was similar to what she felt having spent the greater majority of her years working as a whore.

"I've got no friends, no family." She spoke softly, slowly rising to her feet and pushing the table away from the two of them with her hip and closed the very short distance between them.

"No lovers, no joy." Mac moved her body along the edge of the table, and slowly kicked one leg over Kovacs' knees and then lowered herself to sit in his lap. "Pieces of my soul taken in every hotel room, brothel or backroom at a club." Her fingers traveled up his chest, her eyes locked on his "Nothing really left inside as it is."

She paused as her hand rested over his heart.

"Maybe I'm the fork in your path..."

[grendel]

03:58:06 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Kovacs felt alive at two times in his life. When he was behind the trigger of a gun. And when he held a woman in his arms. As his mind still pulsed with the nightmare memories, his body awoke to Mac's touch. Fire blazed through his veins as he watched her eyes, reading the desire there, the dark passion that consumed her just as it did him. She didn't need to voice the last half of her statement, that perhaps it was he who was destined to change her path.

His hands slid up her legs to her waist, lifting the hem of her dress as he did so. She finished what he started, grabbing the fabric and lifting it over her head in one smooth motion. Mac shook her hair free before curling her arms around his shoulders and fusing their mouths together.

Energy crackled between them, currents within him feeding the needs within her, her flesh an offering to the hunger that snarled within him. It stole his breath away, his body on fire. He didn't even hear the ceramic mugs shatter on the floor as he pushed her back onto the table, his sweatpants cast aside as he thrust into her, her legs curling about his waist, urging him on.

And always, her dark liquid eyes, holding his gaze, drinking in the vicious energies that burned through his nerves, staring into him as he stared into her, a pair of yawning emptinesses made whole through mutual sacrifice.

She cried out beneath him, once, twice, before he was spent, leaning over her on outstretched arms, his breath a heaving bellows in his chest. She reached up to brush her fingers across his cheek and lips, her touch featherlight.

Are you okay? his eyes asked, searching her face for regret, disappointment, disgust. Mac nodded, biting her bottom lip, uncertain as to what to say.

Kovacs stepped back, once again lifting her effortlessly into his arms and carrying her to the bathroom. This time he stands close behind her as the warm water beads over their skin, his hands moving gently across her skin. His touch is questing, his fingers mapping out the peaks and valleys of her flesh, learning her.

Mac shivers beneath the caress, once more feeling more naked before him than with any other person before. She turns, glancing up at him beneath a mop of wet hair, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips. Reaching out, she lets her fingers trace over a puckered ridge of scarring across his left shoulder. She maps them all, her fingers sliding through the moisture on his skin, reveling in the denseness of the muscles beneath. Softly she examines the smooth melding of synthetic and flesh where his arm joins his shoulder, the warm flesh contrasting with the slightly cooler composite.

The hot water dies, chasing them from the shower, and they dry off quickly in the chill of the bathroom. Mac isn't sure if she has to ask the question, but Kovacs answers it for her anyway, drawing her behind him into his bedroom. Together they curl beneath the heavy comforter, bodies spooned together, until the warmth and the exhaustion of the day lulls them both to sleep.

[Vegas]

08:42:41 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

For a few hours flashes of what happened to her on Saturday didn’t come while she slept. The quiet of the house didn’t wake her throughout the night. When she did wake up, she found herself still in his bed, their bodies still tangled around one another and pressed tightly together. She moved slowly as not to wake him, rolling over so she could watch him sleep, a soft smile on her lips as Kovacs actually looked like he was at peace for a change.

Maybe because she moved, or maybe he could feel her watching him, Kovacs’ eyes opened to find Mackenzie still in his bed, still by his side and still wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into.

She broke the silent staring match with a soft chuckle before propping herself up on an elbow, her hair wild from sleep, splayed out in a dark halo around her face.

“Good morning.” She spoke softly as the grey, winter light fought to get through the windows. Mac made no motion to get out of bed, she was comfortable and warm and honestly, she wasn’t sure what came next. He was hardly one of her typical clients, she didn’t need to race out of bed before his wife came home, collecting her money on her way out the door. This was something else entirely, whatever it was, and she didn’t want to make the wrong next move.

[grendel]

08:49:07 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"Good morning," Kovacs replied softly. He reached out to gently brush an errant strand of hair out of Mac's eyes.

"I seem to have overslept a bit. Although, I can't imagine a better reason to do so." He rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head like a great hunting cat, just roused from a nap. Mac curled her body against his, pillowing her head on his chest. She listened to the slow, steady pulse of his heart, and delighted in the strong arm that snaked around her, holding her close.

For a moment, silence stretched between them. The fingers of his hand moved lazily across her skin, wandering without conscious volition as his mind patterned out the remainder of the day. Another smile crept over his lips as he felt Mac purr against him, enjoying the simple sensation of physical contact without expectations.

Glancing down, he found her eyes on him, liquid dark in the half-light of the room.

"Sooooo, where do we go from here?" she asked quietly, a glimmer of unguarded hope in her voice.

"Shopping," replied Kovacs, matter of factly. "If you're going to be with me, you're going to need gear."

Mac blinked in surprise, clearly expecting neither the answer, nor the implication that their status as a couple had changed. Kovacs stretched again, rolling his shoulders out.

"But first, breakfast."

[Vegas]

08:56:41 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac watched Kovacs rise from the bed and appreciated the view. With the whole bed to herself she stretched out her body, contorting herself in all kinds of positions. Her muscles were tight like bow strings which convinced her that she was healing and recovering faster than she expected. She needed a good workout the kind that made her muscles burn and it wasn't one she would get staying in bed. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and looked back over her shoulder at Kovacs.

"What's your preference for breakfast? Besides tea of course? I'll make something if you want to get ready."

She leaned down and picked up one of his t-shirts from the floor and slipped it on before standing with one final stretch of her arms over her head the edge of the t-shirt rose to the tops of her thighs. She could feel his eyes on her and it started a slow fire to burn in her. She was half tempted to pull him back to bed but she knew he had his mind set on taking her shopping for gear and she was pretty certain that would only be the beginning of the day.

"So what's your poison this morning?"

[grendel]

09:10:38 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"Nothing particularly fancy," replied Kovacs, his voice muffled through the t-shirt he was pulling over his head. He already had his sweatpants on. "Eggs, bacon, toast. The usual."

He followed her out to the kitchen, appreciating the view of her long legs and how her ass swayed beneath the hem of his t-shirt. She pulled the last of his eggs from the fridge, preheating the stove burner. He poured them each a glass of juice and set the table. Moving in the small kitchen, he was constantly reaching around her or brushing up against her as she stood at the stove. He saw no reason not to let his hands wander beneath the thin cotton t-shirt, his fingers finding familiar, welcoming flesh.

At one point when his caresses became a little too insistent, Mac fixed him with a smoky glare.

"That is not conducive to us eating breakfast any time soon, mister."

Kovacs laughed, retreating to the table to allow her to finish unmolested. It was only a couple of minutes before Mac delivered the plates of scrambled eggs with cheese and bacon. Kovacs didn't waste any time, once again methodically destroying his meal. Mac ate at a more sane and sedate pace, watching him with some amusement.

"So where are we going shopping anyway?" she asked, in between bites.

"As Far Off Saks As You Can Get Before You Start Getting Closer," replied Kovacs. "At least, that's its official name. It's a mouthful, though, so everyone just calls it The Emporium."

[Vegas]

09:15:11 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

It wasn't so much that she wasn't enjoying the feel of Kovacs' hands on her skin and the way they had to dance around each other in the small kitchen. It was more that she was afraid of getting too wrapped up in enjoying herself that she'd lose her attention on making breakfast and end up burning herself.

"The Emporium hmm," She raised a brow, not familiar with the place. "You sure I can't convince you that Saks is a better option?" She teased, enjoying seeing a smile on the lips of the normally poker-faced man.

"Think they'd look at me weird showing up in my dress from last night? Unless you think the t-shirt's enough. Might get a little cold out there." Mac grinned and finished what she could eat of breakfast before clearing the table and cleaning up the dishes.

[grendel]

09:48:17 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"You could, but it might make it a bit awkward to be trying things on," replied Kovacs, slurping down the last of his orange juice. He'd already added grocery shopping to the list of things to do today. The past couple of days had eaten through a majority of his reserves, especially of breakfast foods. Unfortunately, if his quick mental calculations were anywhere close, today's monetary outlay was going to burn through almost everything he'd earned for the job yesterday. Which meant he'd have to put the shingle out again. He pushed that thought away.

We'll assault that bridge when we come to it.

The shower was much quicker this time, utilitarian instead of intimate, and both of them were ready to go in half an hour. Kovacs was in the same Executive Suite line, Mac having seen five or six identical outfits hanging in his closet. They found a pair of khakis which weren't obscenely oversized on her, as well as a t-shirt and short jacket from somewhere tucked away in his front closet. She put on the same pair of sunglasses, though, which were contrasted sharply with the rumpled, blue-collar image she was working. Kovacs chuckled, shaking his head and pointing the Range Rover towards the outskirts of the city.

10:20:09 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - The Emporium, 8047 Fall City Road, Redmond, Seattle

When Kovacs finally parked the SUV, Mac had to admit that they were pretty far from Saks in deed. To the East, she could clearly see the border fence, its guard towers and surveillance nets spiking up from the horizon at regular intervals. To the South rose the skeletal towers of Glow City, festooned with streamers of cast off plastic and tarps. The building next to them was a massive brick and steel affair, three low stories that slumped out over a full city block. Constant foot traffic entered through a wide roll-up garage door style entrance, guarded by a brace of Crimson Crush gangers. The two dwarves and an elf rake icy eyes over Mac but are a bit more deferential to Kovacs. Something unspoken passes between them, and Mac guesses that his reputation might precede him here.

Inside, the building is almost one giant space. Most of the internal dividers have been removed, making way for hundreds of long tables, shelves, and clothing racks. Mac blinks, Kovacs hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told her they'd be able to find everything they needed here.

[Vegas]

10:25:32 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - The Emporium, 8047 Fall City Road, Redmond, Seattle

Mac felt her jaw clench and Kovacs could feel her body tense up as they passed the gangers lingering outside The Emporium and they gave her a once over. In any other situation she would have called them out on it, but being in a foreign location and at Kovacs' side, she bit her tongue and settled for glaring at them from behind her shades. She tried to be on her best behavior.

Inside the building was overwhelming, even for Mac. She could shop as well as most of the high-end girls, but in here she had no clue where to even begin. Pushing her shades to the top of her head she turned her attention back to Kovacs. She would have to defer to him for whatever it was he thought she needed. She started to poke through the nearest piles and racks until he gave her some direction.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?"

[Mach_Ten]

16:55:07 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

For the second time today Remy stands and stares at a neat, plain white contact card resting in the palm of his hand, this one reads
'Joslyn Whiteland, Security Consultant' a spider web logo with 'SSS' appearing in thicker web strands.
It's a bit more ... professional.. than the hastily scrawled note with his details that he thrust into the outstretched hand of Joslyn before he departed.

With the repairs to the front of shop completed and the tools returned to the lockup in the backyard, Danny prepares his winter clothes for leaving the premises and makes the usual rounds locking up and turning out the main lights.
"You sleeping in here kiddo? or we still on for "You Eat Too Much™" on the way out " he enquires of the young ork,
knowing full well what the answer will be, but using it as a chance to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

Remy looks up with an absent "huh?" before regaining his wits and responding "ummm yeah, I's starvin' already, lets eat!"
The pair grab their belongings close the shutters and head to their respective vehicles, Remy wondering for a moment if risking the bike in this weather is the best course of action, but doing it anyway.

[grendel]

12:41:19 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - The Emporium, 8047 Fall City Road, Redmond, Seattle

"Everything," replied Kovacs, lassoing a cart and pushing it in front of him. "You've probably already got a place, or at least a bolthole with some stuff in it. Which is good. Don't tell anyone about it, not even me. Keep it as a safe place to go if you need to disappear, fall off the grid for a bit. You should always have at least one of those, preferably two. Keep 'em stocked with a basic kit, too. That way if you show up all torn up, with nothing but the skin on your back, you can outfit yourself with your minimal essential tools to get back on your feet."

He pushed the cart as he talked, navigating carefully down one of the many long aisles hemmed in by tables mounded high with a cornucopia of stuff. Mac had no other adequate term to describe the awesome but random variety of clothing, gear, and equipment that surrounded her.

"What size shoes do you wear?" asked Kovacs.

"Eight, usually," answered Mac, "although it depends on the designer."

He grunted, sifting through a pile of shoes to come up with a suitably sized pair of gray crosstrainers. Moisture wicking athletic socks were next, three sets of workout clothes followed. He let her pick through the shirts until she found ones whose color scheme didn't give her violent vertigo. None of the sports bras they found fit, though, so he made a note to stop off for those on the way home. At a legitimate store.

Then came three pairs of gray khaki tactical pants.

"These are better because they've got pre-sewn webbing in the thigh pockets, and the zippers on the side here are for hidden inner pockets. Plus the knees are reinforced and have an inner pocket for kneepads if required."

Mac looked dubiously at Kovacs, but said nothing as he added them to the growing pile in the cart. Compression t-shirts, canvas work shirts, gloves, earbuds with electronic sound damping, a pair of ATACS side zip tac boots. Kovacs rooted through the pile for ten minutes before he found the pair he wanted. He pointed to nomenclature stamped on the side.

"See the EOD at the end of the serial number? That means these boots are suitable for ordinance disposal. They meet the same impact resistance and safety toe standards, but they do so with ceramic and composites rather than steel shanks."

Mac couldn't fathom the difference, but it seemed important so she made a note to ask him later. They were already pushing on. He scooped up a plain black duffel bag on his way past, then stopped in front of a bin full of small gray pouches. Pulling half a dozen out, he opened them one by one, rifling through the contents.

"Your first aid kit is an important piece of gear because it has to cover all contingencies while remaining as compact as possible. So: sterile gauze pads, flat roll of medical tape, generic antidote slap patches, trauma patches, tourniquet, and two Boa combi bandages." He gestured with an olive drab green roll of solid gauze. Mac plucked it from his fingers, turning it over in her hand.

"What is it?" She reached for the fastener but he stopped her quickly.

"It's a coagulant enhancer. You unroll it and the chemicals start working on contact with oxygen. You place the white side against the wound, wrap tightly, and seal." He stuffed the bandage back into the kit, snapping the lid down with its attached keeper. Mac did a quick mental inventory of the pile of gear in the shopping cart.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I can't afford this," she said, flatly. Kovacs nodded, switching aisles. His answer only opened up a whole new can of questions.

"I'll cover you. You can pay me back out of your cut from the jobs we take."

[Vegas]

12:41:19 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - The Emporium, 8047 Fall City Road, Redmond, Seattle

Mac found herself listening and nodding along, trying to digest all the minute details he was throwing at her rapid-fire. Her head was swimming and still in disbelief at all the gear he had pulled into the cart for her. She was trying to keep up, her own mental calculator tallying up how much she’d need to cover the pile of gear and she blanched a little. It took her a few moments for her to register and respond just what Kovacs was offering. She shook her head.

“No way Kovacs, it’s too much. I can’t take… I can’t let you do that.”

She saw the way he looked at her, and she knew instantly he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Her fingers found their way into the pocket of the cargo pants she wore and wrapped around the smooth cylinder of the certified cred practically burning a hole in her pocket. She silently cursed herself as she pulled it out and pressed it into his hand.

“Consider it my first payment.”

She didn’t like, no she hated owing anyone anything, but the reality was she already had racked up a debt with Kovacs. It wasn’t like a few days of making breakfast and some really great sex were going to pay that tab.

Letting go of the cred as he took hold of it, she tried to hide the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew it was the right thing to do, to pay Kovacs off first, but that cred was the lifeline of how she was going to explain her disappearing act and fly under Wayne’s radar for a little while longer. Now with everything Kovacs was suggesting to do, especially concerning a place to hole up that even he didn’t know about… Her meager belongings were about to become much more so.

Adding insult to injury, an incoming message flashed across her field of vision. Her eyes flicked left to right for a moment while she thumbed a pattern on her commlink.

To: All Staff
Importance: High
Subject: Mandatory Medical – Thursday, 1.11.63 See Schedule Below

This was going from bad to worse, in a heartbeat.

[grendel]

12:52:37 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - The Emporium, 8047 Fall City Road, Redmond, Seattle

Kovacs shook his head. "This is the way that I learned. There are other methods out there, but I know this one succeeds, so we're using it. I know asking you to trust me is asking a lot, and in the near future I'm going to tell you not to trust anyone, even me. But for now, trust me."

He grins, his lips lopsided and goofy at the contradiction in his words, then presses on.

A stiff belt of plain black leather with a brushed titanium buckle joins the pile. Kovacs points to the back.

"It's reinforced with a two ply kevlar weave. Keeps the belt from deforming under the weight of a handgun and ammo."

A heavy duty nylon rigger's belt is next, followed by a piece of load bearing equipment Mac had never seen before.

"It's called a battle belt," explained Kovacs. "It's meant for situations that require you to have a bit more gear on hand than an every day carry, but that don't merit a full chest rig."

A bewildering array of modular pouches joined the pile of gear, most of them done in a mottled gray/dark gray digital camouflage. Kovacs inspected each one carefully, checking the seams as well as the fasteners in back that seemed to be used to mount it to the belt. He glanced around at the tables unhappily.

"We're gonna have to make a couple of other stops. They don't have any vests, and I don't see anything but nylon holsters."

"And we don't use nylon holsters because...?" prompted Mac, intuiting that she was getting maybe a third of the information that was cycling through his head.

"Nylon's fine, but it means extra bulk for retention systems. We want kydex, which is a fiber reinforced polymer that you can heat mold, and features simple retention designs. Keeps it slim, lightweight, and fast. But you don't have to worry. I know the guy to go to for the rest of your weapons kit. C'mon, we need to go find the armor."