Strictly Business [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-02-2017

Drusilla closed the planner and pushed it aside, before replacing the pen in the exact spot from which she had taken it from a meticulously organized row of them and picked up Renton’s phone. She glanced up at him as she typed her information into the device. She even took the time for a quick selfie. Cute and playful with her lips slightly pursed and a hip peace sign. Smiling, she handed the device back to him. Ears perked and swiveled towards him. “I can bring someone,” she said, pushing her hair over one shoulder and thinking of Aphrodite. “Not a cute man, unfortunately, but I think you will like her.”

Renton and Drusilla chatted for a bit longer while he finished his cup of coffee. A friendly rapport quickly settled between them. They joked and giggled at the kitchen nook until Renton was swept away by a call from the C.A.F headquarters, and Owen requested her for more work with that ever modulated use of her name.

The remainder of her Wednesday had been uneventful after Renton had left. It was mostly filled with paperwork, and translations. Owen hid himself away in his office and she didn’t see him again until she brought him dinner. He ate in his office, which usually implied that he did not want to be bothered, so she had cleaned up, said goodnight to him, and gone home.


Thursday mornings, before showing up at the house, she always went to the C.A.F. headquarters to pick up Owen’s office mail, collaborate with Katanya and reconvene with the rest of the spec recon squad.

Drusilla always phased into the parking lot near the main entrance to the base of operations. Though she had never attempted it, she had a feeling that suddenly appearing from darkness any closer to the building would not benefit her. The guards struck her as having sort of a shoot first ask questions later mentality. The lot was half-filled with cars and the sun was just beginning it’s morning rise, casting thick Colorado clouds in purples and pink-oranges. The smooth rhythm of her heels on pavement echoed in her ears. In the fading cascades of the previous night, the air was chilly, and wet with morning dew. It wasn’t quite cold yet, the leaves having just begun to turn, so she wore a simple cable knit sweater dress over a long-sleeved button up. Thick socks climbed her legs, settling just over her knees. Her dark hair framed her face and fell over her shoulders in casual waves.

Rearranging files in her arms, she checked her watch as she fished out her Covenant-issued ID with the other hand. Her tailed curled upwards as she approached the guards stationed outside the massive building, but her ears remained at attention. It wasn’t so much that she was intimidated by the C.A.F, she just didn’t like them. Drusilla hated coming to the base alone, and she hoped it would be a quick trip. She had timed her arrival appropriately to meet Katanya as she finished her morning PT.

When her clearances had been confirmed, she stepped into the main lobby, as she clipped the ID to her lapel. She was required to have it visible at all times while on the premises. Her tail fell towards the floor as she made her way towards the human resources office.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-02-2017

Warrant Officer Jehorem was, in a word, bored.

Having worked in security for a long time, Shrader knew how to identify tension in a person. A rather stiff looking Veridian woman captured his attention. Something in the way her ears seemed frozen in place. Something in the way her tail curled protectively at her back. Something too careful way she held herself. Maybe it was just boredom prompting him to see something that wasn't there.

Then again, she wasn't casual. There was nothing perfunctory in the way she clipped her I.D. on herself. She was being deliberately cautious.

Shrader was the type of man that if he were a police officer he would find reason to pull someone over for driving too fast, too erratically, but also for driving too slow and too carefully. He'd assume the average driver would be just a little bit careless, just a hair over the speed limit. One who drove precisely the speed limit and in a perfect straight line, well, obviously they needed to have their car searched for contraband.

And so he found reason to apprehend the Veridian woman. He did so silently at first, stepping in front of her to block her path. He held a standard issue semi-automatic AR-15 across his body and clutched the grip as he moved in front of the Veridian woman.

One hand came out slowly, palm out, signaling that he wanted her to stop.

"What's your business, ma'am?" His voice growled the question and he bent down to peer at her I.D. tags with an obvious frown. He waved over one of his associates.

"Re-run this one." He instructed the minion gruffly. The man held his hand out for her to turn the I.D. over.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-04-2017

Drusilla came to a stuttering halt when a giant body moved into her path. Her ears pinned backwards as she look up to the face of the man that had stopped her. A fear gripped her, not unlike the way he gripped the rifle he held. A cold dread in the pit of her stomach, a dryness in her throat. Why was she being stopped, she wondered.

“I’m on business for the Lieutenant Colonel,” she explained, taking a step back from the large man as he leaned closer to inspect her ID. While, she was thoroughly feeling menaced, she didn’t want to entirely appear as such. She’d never been subject to this scrutiny before. She was the Lieutenant Colonel’s assitant, people knew that.

Her brow furrowed when another guard appeared. Two men towered over her, holding rifles too tightly. “I don’t understand?” Drusilla prompted the men for an explanation as she unclipped her badge. She hesitated in handing it off to the other grunt. She held onto it almost protectively, as it was the only form of identification that allowed her to be in the C.A.F, at all, let alone unescorted. And she had a feeling she did not want this man escorting her.

“What is the meaning of this?”

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-05-2017

Jehorem gave her a skeptical grunt in response to her claims to be on business with the Lieutenant Colonel, a man who was known for having his business in tip top shape. Somewhere in his mind it occurred to him, albeit briefly, that this crisp looking woman who obeyed the protocols perfectly could certainly be the type of employee in service to the Lt. Colonel.

“Lieutenant Colonel Hart works from home now.” He observed as if this fact made it impossible for the officer in question to require anything from the base or have any business he could send an associate to take care of. It didn’t matter to him that her story was within the realm of possibility when he was hellbent in finding fault.

The punishment seeks the crime. And he’d already decided her punishment was to be detainment.

The second warrant officer who had stepped up to inspect the I.D., pulled it with force from her hand and moved off to a computer. He scanned the barcode and stabbed at a keyboard while frowning at the computer screen. His hand lifted to wave Jehorem over.

“Stay here, ma’am.” He ordered in a bark before joining his minion at the computer screen. They made a nice show of concern and printed off a two page report. The printed pages and one badge belonging to Drusilla Haven were tucked away in Jehorem’s pocket.

“Miss Haven, I ask that you come with us to further discuss your business here today at CAF HQ.” He wasn’t asking really. He held a grey plastic bin in his hands similar to the gloomy containers used by TSA. “Kindly place your purse, any electronic devices, and those files in this container. They will be catalogued at the detention center.” Any slowness or reticence in handing over the effects he requested were helped along by the other warrant officer’s grabbing hands and prodding hands.

When they finished confiscating her items. Jehorem passed the grey plastic bin to his helper and pulled out shining handcuffs. Quite unnecessary, but often an effective intimidation factor. He gruffly grabbed each of her hands and pulled them behind her back. The cuff links clicked ominously around slim wrists, tighter than was necessary. His hand encircled her upper arm and he was half pull, half pushing her like a bouncer evicting some unruly drunk patron.

“At this time I am obligated to inform you that you have been flagged for detainment by the Covenant of Allied Forces Military police. This body has been granted the authority to conduct potentially indefinite detentions. The purpose of this detention is to conduct an investigation the proceedings of which can include but are not limited to search and seizure of personal belongings and interrogation. Should you require medical treatment at any time during this detention you will be provided any such treatment deemed necessary under armed guard. We are required by Colorado State and Federal Law to provide you with a copy of the CAF’s internal rules and regulations pertaining to detainment and such material will be provided to you in the interrogation room. We ask that you cooperate fully and this process will be as painless as possible.”

He hastily rattled off the practiced pre-amble with little patience and also absolutely no compassion for the overwhelming nature of the content of the statement.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-05-2017

Drusilla attempted to resist the second officer who was trying to take her ID, while the first contradicted the possibility that she could be Owen’s assistant. “Yes, he-” she paused, and exhaled sharply through her nose when she lost the battle for her clearance card. Fingers curled together and she dropped her hand to her side.

“Yes, he does. Which is why I am here. As an extension of the Lieutenant Colonel I am permitted to reconvene with members of the Special Reconnaissance team on his behalf. Most notably, Major Forsythe.”

He didn’t seem to be listening, more interested in the results of her ID scan, which should have shown nothing out of the ordinary about her presence on the base. She followed his instructions, and remained in place. Which went to say she startled at the sharpness of his tone. Her tail swayed behind her knees, and she shifted on her feet. The tall heels of the boots weren’t as comfortable when she was forced to stand still. One of her ears swiveled in the directions that the two men were whispering. Presumably about her.

Eyes widened and ears pinned backwards when he returned, telling her that she would be coming with him. She brought the files to her chest and wrapped both arms around them. Her tail curled closer, and she closed herself off to him. “This is absurd,” she argued, her ears pushed forward and her eyes flickered between to men. To the bin one of them held for her belongings. A line of hair on the ridge of her tail stood on end and she looked around for someone who could help her. Any milling agents seemed to be deliberately avoiding the situations. Deliberately avoiding Agent Jehorem.

Her purse, her phone, all of the files were taken from her, despite her protestations. Julianna was terrified, even though she was doing her best to seem only mildly annoyed. “I want to speak to the Lieutenant Colonel,” she expressed as the handcuffs were brought into her vision. “I demand to speak to the Lieutenant Colonel,” she repeated with more emphasis. The cuffs were slapped on her wrists and tightened, she made a pained noise of complaint in her throat.

A hard grip on her arm forced her to walk with him. The difference of their heights had her nearly trotting on her toes to keep up with his long strides and to relieve the pressure in her shoulder. Drusilla was scared, and humiliated, having been all but arrested in front of the entire lobby.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-05-2017

Shrader continued grunting in response to her demands. As if she had room to make demands.

“Your prissy attitude isn’t helping you, kitten.” His words were more or less jeered at her. Knowing he had the power in the encounter seemed entertaining for him.

With his hand still encircling her upper arm he all but dragged her into an elevator. Other CAF members waiting for the elevators continued waiting, letting the two Warrant Officers and the detainee have the one to themselves.

Shrader punched the button B4. They would be going four floors below ground to the detention center. The doors slid closed and silence surrounded the three as they descended. Agent Jehorem stationed himself just behind and to the left of Drusilla. He stood so close to her that when the elevator started moving he swayed and brushed her back with his chest.

“Veridians always dropping names, eh? Sense of entitlement.” He commented to his compatriot who made some guttural sounds of agreement.

When the elevator doors opened, Shrader locked on to Drusilla’s arm again, dragging her into a long plain hallway lined with yellowing linoleum flooring and thick grey doors leading into interrogation rooms. Drusilla wasn’t the only detainee that day. Raised voices - some yelling, some pleading - sounded from behind closed doors. The sound of what could only have been someone slamming a chair or a table sounded behind another. Armed men walked up and down the hall heading to their various destinations.

Shrader led Drusilla into an interrogation room left open to signify its availability. He shoved her inside before stepping across the threshold himself and closing the door ominously behind them.

They were alone.

In white room with a single table and two chairs all bolted to the middle of the floor. One window faced the hallway but any view of the outside was blocked by dingy blinds that Shrader lowered after he closed the door. In the center of the table was a laminated copy of the CAF rules and regulations pertaining to detainees, as promised by Agent Jehorem. It was worn with use, the plastic covering peeled away, and in places was stained with, perhaps coffee, or soda, or even blood.

“Sit.” He ordered and pushed Drusilla into a chair.

He walked in a circle around her like a vulture rounding his prey.

“So, would you like to tell me the reason for your visit to Covenant Headquarters today? Are you ready to tell the truth now?”

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-06-2017

Her tail bristled as she was dragged towards the elevator. She felt trapped and threatened as she was forced to stand in front of Agent Jehoram. Hands, trapped behind her back, curled into fists and her tail snapped to and fro in agitated motions when they bumped together. When he spoke, her ears pressed so tight against the back of her head that they ached, the insides were turning red with the effort. “It’s not entitlement,” she snapped, locking her gaze on the elevator doors. “I’m trying to get this mistakecleared up.” There was an obvious insult in her words.

She complained again when he grabbed her arm. Too rough. Bruising. She could feel his fingers digging into her even through the layers of her sweaters. She couldn’t hear her heels over the cacophony of noises emanating from the rooms. Drusilla whined, fear gripping her. She attempted to dig her heels into the peeling linoleum, tried to pull her arm away from him. Her breathing quickened. She didn’t want to be here, she shouldn’t be here, why was this happening to her. She looked every bit a frightened animal.

Drusilla tripped across the threshold, but caught herself before she ran into the table. The sound of the door closing echoed in her ears, there was a ringing quiet in the room as compared to the noise outside. Her own erratic breathing sounded distant. Her ears pushed to attention as he rounded on her, her tail curling into her own lap. She looked up at him with wide fearful eyes.
“I..I’m on business f-for the Lieutenant Colonel,” she repeated and she wished her voice didn’t sound so small and stuttering. “I h-have a meeting with the M-major and a few other me...members of the Spec Recon team. I come every Thursday morning to do this, and to retrieve any office mail. I-it’s my job.”

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-07-2017

There was no reason for him to strike her. She was subdued and restrained, stuttering, and afraid. But Shrader didn’t like the way she’d claimed he was making a mistake, as if that were her judgment to make. Some Veridian claiming to be Central Command auxiliary staff.

When her faltering speech stopped and he was left with only the annoying ragged rhythm of her breath, the back of his hand met her cheek. It swung through completing its arc by knocking her face to the side.

“You need to stop lying.” He was bent over, his face millimeters from hers, breathing hot against the cheek he’d just struck.

He straightened himself up again and cupped his hands behind his back like an obedient soldier and resumed his pacing. “Do you even realize that there have never been Veridians, other than Lieutenant General Weatherfare, who - to his benefit, I might add - abandoned his ties to the weak nation and joined forces here at the CAF.”

There was only a nugget of truth in the claims Shrader made about Darcy’s history. A sliver really. He didn’t care, he saw things the way he saw them.

“So, it’s funny how you claim to be Central Command auxiliary staff, when there are literally no other Veridians who have or will ever work in Central Command. Weres don’t even work in proximity to Central Command officers, you realize that, right?” By this comparison he was not only suggesting that Veridians were unworthy of working with the highest officers but also affirming the controversial and speciest policies that were under fire anyways. Not to mention placing Veridians below weres in the species hierarchy.

He stopped in front of her again and clapped his hands together loudly. The sound rang out in the unadorned room, bouncing off the concrete walls. “So, I’m going to ask you again. What the fuck are you doing entering the CAF with the intention to travel to Central Command?!”

He had bent down again to shout the question into her face. Both of his hands gripped the back of the chair behind her shoulders, such that his whole body was hovering over her. She had no space to cower backwards or away from him in any direction.

“Fuck it.” He spat the words, literally, little droplets of spittle flew from between his lips as he pushed away from the chair. It rocked backwards a hair demanding that she redistribute her weight, or tip over.

He stomped over to the door and jerked it open and began yelling instructions to the other Warrant Officer who had posted up outside the door.

“Get Major Forsyth on the line and tell her we have a Veridian who entered CAF HQ today with the intention of traveling to Central Command. Let her know it remains unknown whether this individual is dangerous or has intent to harm officers on that floor. Inform her that this Veridian had her name, as well as the Lieutenant Colonel’s name, in her filthy mouth.”

The man guarding the door saluted his superior officer and gave him an enthusiastic and almost patriotic “YES SIR.” And sped walked down the hall to complete his task. He contacted Major Forsyth and relayed the message nearly word for word as Agent Jehorem had instructed him. Including the part about a filthy mouth.

The door was closed again and Drusilla was left alone with the increasingly agitated military policeman.

“So where were we?” He asked as he flipped the chair across from her around and straddled it. He placed his automatic weapon on the table and folded his arms in front of it giving her a hard stare from across the table.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-07-2017

Her face turned to the side with the forceful momentum of the slap and she was left, staring wide-eyed at her own reflection in the two-way mirror. Her jaw ached, even as the stinging in her cheek slowly faded. Her face burned hot and involuntary tears pooled at her waterline. Slowly, she ran her tongue just behind her bottom lip and tasted blood. It welled from the split near the corner of her mouth and stained her teeth. Drusilla didn’t turn her face back to him when he leaned over her, she refused to look at him. Only continued to stare into her own reflection. She cringed at the feeling of his breath on her face.

Drusilla didn’t look at him. She didn’t respond to him. Her ears pressed against her head as she was forced to listen to his bigoted rant. They didn’t even perk at the mention of Darcy, which was an intentional and practiced reaction. Even though she knew that he could help her, she wouldn’t risk it. She jumped when his hands clapped together; she made a terrified squeak of a noise when he reached and held the back of her chair and squeezed her eyes shut against the yelling. She pressed herself as hard to the back of the chair as possible, not much further to go with her hands cuffed at her back.

She didn’t answer his question so he pushed away from her. She leaned forward in the chair to keep from tipping. At least, she wasn’t crying.

Drusilla worked on regulating her breathing while he spoke to the other officer. She knew she needed to calm down. She looked at the rifle that was laid across the table when he returned, before she looked back to Shrader. Still, she refused to speak.

In her office, in Central Command, Katanya sat stone-faced at her desk and listened to the warrant officer on the other end of the line. They had detained a Veridian woman. A Veridian woman who claimed to know her and Owen. The same Veridian woman that had been scheduled to meet her that very morning, and had been concerningly absent when she was always exactly on time.

Katanya sighed and closed her eyes, steeling herself for what was going to happen next, because it wasn’t going to be pretty for anyone. Especially, not for whomever had Drusilla in their custody. The Major was immediately enraged at the thought of Owen’s sweet assistant in C.A.F detention. She slammed the phone down with explicit instructions to discontinue their interrogation until she or the Lieutenant Colonel arrived. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Owen as she all but ran to the elevators.

“They have Drusilla in custody,” she explained without a greeting, when he answered. “They’ve already detained her, and you need to get here.”

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-07-2017

Her silence bothered him than her whining, whimpering, and breathing. This resigned silence. It was dignified and resolute in the face of his torment.

How dare she.

He reached across the table to slap her face in a way that was supposed to be mockingly comforting. Pat pat pats to the cheek he’d assaulted.

“Keep your wits about you.” He growled, his fingers moved to grab a hold of her jaw, squeezing only for the purpose of causing more pain and humiliation. “We’re not quite through and you haven’t answered my questions to my satisfaction.” He released her face, shoving it backwards.

His hand dipped below the table to retrieve some folded papers from his pocket. He unfolded them noisily and set them on the table in front of her so she could see the report for herself. His index finger jabbed at the ‘Authentication Failed’ flag. It was the print off he’d pocketed after they re-ran her identification.

“Want to explain this?”

There was no explanation she could possibly give. They had manually over-ridden her authentication, forcing the computer to fail her. A discretionary security feature they loved to abuse.

“I’m on the way. Get down there and run interference.” Was all Owen said to Katanya.

Owen hung up the call and put his head in his hands and breathed out carefully, just once. He needed to collect himself before he went down to the CAF and banged some heads around. He was already in his impeccable black dress uniform as he had a meeting to attend that afternoon and beforehand had a luncheon. Needless to say his entire schedule just cleared up.

Only twenty-two minutes had elapsed since he’d hung up with Katanya, most of that was travel time. Owen checked his watch while riding the elevator down to the basement level four. He’d ignored the salutes given to him when he entered the building. He shared the elevator with several other CAF operatives traveling down to the basement. One woman tried to select B2 but Owen apprehended her hand and punched B4. He didn’t say a word but everyone else on the elevator understood the Lieutenant Colonel would not be waiting for them to exit before he did.

He barreled down the hallway in the detention center until he came upon a couple of Warrant Officers arguing with Katanya outside a detention room.

“Ma’am, the Military Police have the authority to detain -” the man was saying as Owen approached. The Lieutenant Colonel again ignored salutes directed at him. He had a singular focus and mission at the moment.

“She in there?” Owen asked, directing the question at Katanya, the only one in the group he trusted. Shoved his way past the group that blocked the door and tried the door handle only to find it locked. He grabbed the lapel of the nearest military policeman, “Get me in there,” he ordered.

The man shrugged and stammered, “S-sir, Agent Jehorem is the only agent with the seniority here at the moment to open detention center doors. He’s inside with a detainee, sir.”

“Oh is that so? Are you telling me the Major and I don’t have the authority to enter that room?”

“I - I, sir, I’m not sure. I would have to consult the regulations, sir.”

Owen growled in frustration shoved the useless man away causing him to fall into Katanya. He moved up to the window that had been shuttered with blinds and banged on it forcefully with his fist. The glass rattled and bowed somewhat with the force of his fist.

There was a brutal calmness to his expression when the blinds were lifted and he was presented with the face of the man who’d detained his assistant. “Open the door, Jehorem.” He could see past the other man to where Drusilla was seated with her ears pressed against her head and her hands behind her back. She looked frightened, terrified. And her lip was ... bleeding.

The glass reverberated again when Owen smacked it with heel of his open hand. "I said open the fucking door!" He was yelling now. His face red with anger and indignation at what had been done to Drusilla.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-07-2017

Drusilla tried to remove her face from the reach of his hand, but there was nowhere for her to go. She hissed a painful breath through her teeth when he grabbed her jaw, and it was too much too keep the tears from spilling over. She didn’t sob; just wet tracks down her cheeks as he pushed her face away. Her chin dropped to her chest, she squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips together, ruining red lipstick that was already worse for wear.

She sniffed and looked up at the paperwork he thrust at her. The words crossed her vision, but her brain almost refused to register their meaning. Failed, failed, failed. It repeated in her mind and dread flooded over her. “That’s not correct.” Her voice cracked when she said it. “The Lieutenant Colonel hired me himself.” She could hardly get her tone above a whisper. “You did this,” her words were mostly lost to banging on the window.

Her gaze tracked Jehorem as he moved to the blinds, opening them just enough for to peer out of them. Her ears pricked to the sound of Owen’s voice, her tail twitched eagerly in her lap. He was here, finally. He was here to help her. “Owen!” She’d forgotten her propensity for using his titles in the wake of her fear and the flood relief. Didn't realize she'd used his name in his presence for the first time. She just wanted him to get her out. “Something is wrong! Owen, please. Please tell them I didn’t do anything!”

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-07-2017

As commanded Shrader moved away from the window to open the door. And he took his sweet time doing it. It didn’t seem to register to him how much shit he’d gotten into.

Owen locked eyes with Drusilla and put his hand flat against the window as if he were reaching out to her. His heart shattered somewhere inside to hear her calling out to him so desperately. To him of all people. A pang of guilt and pain washed over him to see her that way. Irrationally, he worried also what would have happened to her if he hadn't been contacted. Images of worse than what she'd gotten swirled in his mind.

“It’ll be alright. I’m coming in.” He said. His voice was too quiet to carry through the window to be heard by ordinary human ears, but he knew Drusilla would hear him.

Owen disappeared from the window for just a moment. He didn’t wait for Shrader to open the door after it was unlocked, but rather shoved it open himself with an aggressive force that pushed the larger man out of the way and caused the door to swing and bang against the wall. It bounced back from the wall, leaving a dent where the handle had hit, and struck Owen against the hip. He didn’t seem to notice as he advanced on Shrader with one hand on his sidearm and with his other hand out.

“Keys.”

Agent Jehorem lazily saluted the Lieutenant Colonel. Somehow he was still riding on the high of tormenting a helpless detainee and felt he was invincible. He looked at the officer’s open hand and gave the blonde a neutral stare. “With all due respect sir, I have not cleared this detainee to be released.”

Owen was the smaller man in the confrontation but that didn’t seem to bother him. A fistful of Shrader’s uniform shirt and the other fist to the man’s nose brought them closer to height.

Shrader tasted blood and tried to react in self-defense. Shrader being dazed already and in a less advantageous position gave Owen the upper hand. And he didn't wait. With two open hands he struck Shrader's ears. He grabbed either side of Shrader’s collar and forced the man in a bend while he brought his knee up to meet Shrader’s face. The blow knocked the Warrant Officer off balance and afforded Owen a second knee to the man’s gut which caused him to double over. Owen shoved the bleeding man to the ground and laid his boot on his chest.

“Maybe now you can hear me since I've cleaned out your ears and cleared your head a little bit. That is my assistant that you've assaulted and I said keys.”

Ears ringing, Shrader was gasping and groaning from the attacks as his hands blindly felt around for keys. He couldn't catch his breath for the boot planted firmly on his chest. The knee had easily broken his nose and blood ran everywhere over his face and down his lips, chin, and neck.

Owen snatched at the keys and shoved off of Shrader to turn to Drusilla. His fingers touched her shoulder tentatively feeling the soft fibers of her sweater dress. His touch was tender. He didn't want to startle her after she’d clearly been assaulted. “I’m going to uncuff you.” He explained before his hands went behind her back.

The cuffs were released and fell to the floor with a clatter along with the keys. Owen knelt down in front of her so as to be eye level with the seated woman. He took her wrists and applied a gentle pressure as his fingers worked to relieve pain at the place where she'd been bound to tight. He then pulled down the sleeve of his uniform and used it to dab gently at her bleeding lip.

Once he'd felt he'd tended to her somewhat, he held his arm out inviting her into an embrace. Some training he’d had in dealing with those who had been victimized reminded him to be gentle, to not insist on contact, and to be inviting and give assurance.

He folded her in his arms, one hand cradled the back of her head, the other splayed out against her spine. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispered against her hair. “Are you alright? Do you need a medic?”

He looked up from Drusilla's hair for Katanya and the other military policeman. “Someone get her some water.” One of the MPs dashed away to fulfill the instructions.

---

RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-07-2017

Katanya blocked the door with her body as soon as Owen had entered. She wasn’t a large woman, but she could certainly hold her own against anyone that decided the wanted to interfere with what she knew was going to happen next. Owen had a temper, and he didn’t take well to abuse towards things he considered his. She’d been watching Owen and Drusilla long enough to know that the small assistant fell into that category. Technically, she shouldn’t have been stone-faced and acquiescent to the following violence, but she didn’t like Shrader, and she didn’t like what he had done to Drusilla even more.

They’d all hear about this later, but for now. It was happening.

Drusilla cowered in the chair as the scene played out. Ears pressed tight against her hair, she cringed with every blow that landed. It wasn’t that she felt bad for Agent Jehorem, she just didn’t like the sound of it.

Her ears stood upright and swiveled in Owen’s direction, and involuntary movement that made her resemble a pet that was eager for positive attention for a moment. That touch to her shoulder didn’t fix everything, but she relief washed over her. He was here. She was safe. She nodded as he explained his intentions. Her shoulders slumped forward when here hands were no longer trapped behind her back, and she stared down at her wrists, decorated with angry red rings from the too tight cuffs. His hands covered the markings and she looked up at him. The concern on his features nearly made her cry in earnest. “I’m okay,” she lied, flinching as she tended to her lip. The taste of copper still on her tongue. “I’m okay,” she said again, unsure if she was trying to convince him, or herself.

As soon as she offered, she slipped from the chair and into his arms. She hid her face against his chest and muffled the sound of a singular sob against his uniform. Various medals and bars pinned to his breast pressed against her cheek, but she didn’t care. Her ears fell to either side so she could tuck her head just beneath his chin. She only shook her head when he inquired about a medic.

Katanya watched as the other MP eagerly ran off as if it would put him in the good graces of the two officers in presence. She entered the room, careless stepping over Shrader who had righted himself, but was still mostly sprawled on the floor. She frowned down at him and shook her head. “I’ll cover you at the meetings today?” she prompted, knowing Owen would have no interest in anything other than Drusilla.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-07-2017

As Katanya knew, Owen had little care for who witnessed him put a beating on Shrader, nor who witnessed him comfort his scared assistant. He didn’t care what the fallout would be for him as a superior officer lashing out violently against a lower ranking member.

Owen’s brows pulled together in concern and he nodded sympathetically when she claimed she was ‘okay.’ Whether she was actually okay or not, he couldn’t tell, but he wanted to comfort her regardless.

He caught her easily as she slid out of the chair and into his arms. He supported her weight effortlessly with the one hand around her back and smashed her protectively against him. With his face in her hair, the smell of Drusilla’s shampoo and perfume surrounded him and he closed his eyes to be left with the scent of her. The only other sensation he was aware of for a moment was the throbbing knuckles of his left hand. The image of her looking to him for help came to his mind. There was something about that look, something about her needing him that he wanted to keep on feeling. Though he knew this was an extenuating circumstance.

The sound of Katanya’s footsteps and her voice opened Owen’s eyes and he looked up at her. He nodded, “Yes, thanks. Go. Ah, also, the incident report? You’ll handle it, yes?” He knew Katanya could put a spin on things for him and that she would. He would have to answer for his actions upstairs but he wanted Katanya’s word to speak for him first. “I’ll take care of the rest of this.”

By ‘this’, he meant Drusilla. The whole rest of the situation he didn’t care to attend to. He wanted only to get his broken assistant out of the building and on the mend.

The eager-to-please military policeman returned with a cold bottle of water and placed it gingerly on the table. He backed away slowly and saluted both Owen and Katanya. He was like a jogger who’d happened upon a bear. Back away and hope you don’t get attacked.

“You.” Owen nodded to the young MP. “Get Agent Jehorem cleaned up.”

Owen stood slowly, bringing Drusilla up with him. His one arm released her when he felt she would stand on her own. The other arm stayed around her protectively. He offered her the water bottle and applied gentle pressure to the middle of her spine to encourage her to walk with him.

“Come on.” He tucked Drusilla close against his side. He kept himself between her and Shrader who was being helped from the floor and giving Owen a murderous look. Owen shielded Drusilla from the man and escorted her from the detention room.

A gaggle of military police had gathered around and were gawking into the detention room with the most drama.

“Get back to work.” Owen barked his orders at the unprofessional agents who jumped to attention and scurried off and away from the officer who wasn’t afraid to get violent if need be.

Owen escorted Drusilla into the elevators and pressed the button for the main floor. The doors closed and they were alone with the whir of the elevator coming to life.

“Do you want me to take you home so you can rest? Or would you like to come with me and talk about what happened?” His voice remained consoling when he addressed her. The second option, however, was presented with slightly more emphasis as the better option.

He was saying, let me take care of you, without so many words.

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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-07-2017

“Of course, sir,” Katanya replied without a second thought. Despite her monotone it was clear that they were on the same page regarding the outcome the situation. She slid out of the way for Owen and Drusilla, turning her head to frown at Shrader, her disgust palpable. She didn’t want to see if the instructions were followed, because she knew they would be. She followed Owen and Drusilla out of the room and down the hall, but allowed them to take the elevator for themselves.

Drusilla remained close to Owen, like a scared animal that had found something to protect it. She held the water bottle in one hand, the other curled into the fabric of Owen’s dress jacket, clinging to the obvious vestiges of safety in what she now considered a dangerous place. She kept her eyes on the floor, watching their feet as they moved down the hall. Her heels and his combat boots. Her tail was still and her ears had returned to the crown of her head.

She was silent in the elevator, even in the few seconds after his question. She continued to stare at the ground. The hand around his jacket curled tighter and she worried at her split lip with the tip of her tongue. “I want to go with you,” she said finally, as the reached the main floor and the doors opened. She used her other hand to press the water bottle against her aching jaw. “I don’t want to be by myself.”

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