Public Relations [Closed] - Printable Version

Public Relations [Closed] - Printable Version

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Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 11-25-2016

megs & saronym

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 11-25-2016

Julianna stood at the receptionist’s desk in the Human Resources Department of the Covenant of Allied Forces. She stood straight, ears at attention with her hands folded neatly upon the countertop. She was dressed impeccably, in a wrinkle-free white button-down blouse that was tucked into a teal skirt with long pleats and floral decorations. Her shoes matched her skirt, which in turn matched her watch and the small clutch purse she’d set upon the counter. Her hair fell in dark waves down her back and over her shoulders and the gentle sway of her tail behind her knees and was the only sign of her growing impatience.

The clerk behind the counter was doing her best to quickly organize the paperwork scattered across her desk. Her name tag read Catherine and it almost seemed that she would lose something as quickly as she found another. “I’m sorry Miss Maxillion,” her high-pitched voice seemed to plead for Julianna’s continued patience. “We really weren’t expecting your transfer for another week.”

A carefully crafted brow disappeared behind her bangs, and Julianna removed her hands from the counter to smooth them over the fabric stretched across her abdomen. “Commander Weatherfare asked me to come early,” she explained, her tone pleasant, almost melodic with her explanation. The Commander had sounded at his wit’s end on the phone the night before, explaining an expedited and dire need for her services. A phone started ringing and Catherine jumped, before signaling to Julianna that she needed a moment and picking up the receiver.

While the clerk took the call, Jules pushed away from the counter to circle towards the wall of glass that revealed the rest of the bustling hub of the CAF. In doing so, she was able to witness the presence of Commander Darcy Weatherfare, approaching the Human Resources office at full speed.

“Miss Maxillion,” he greeted as he pushed open the door, it snapped closed behind him and he reached for her hand. “So glad you could join us here at the Covenant of Allied Forces.”

Julianna smiled tightly as took the offered hand in a brief but firm shake. As if they both weren’t aware of the ridiculous amount of money the CAF had offered her to leave her position with Akiona International.

“Here. I have the temporary badge for you until the girls get your paperwork all squared away.” She plucked the laminated rectangle from his fingers and clipped it neatly to the decorative pocket of her blouse. “I will show you around and give you an idea as to what your new duties will be with the CAF.”

Julianna didn’t imagine it would be much different from her previous duties. She was a Public Relations manager, after all. Generally, her tasks were pretty straightforward, cleaning up the messes and blunders of other people that weren’t so great at following directions or keeping their mouths shut. There was very little she couldn’t handle as made evident by her previous work.
Darcy had paraded her around the base of operations like a proud parent and everyone had been more than content to stop what they were doing to watch the commander and the cat girl he’d had in tow. They exchanged inquisitive looks amongst their peers. Who was she, where was she going, they all seemed to ask with their eyes. No one dared to ask with their words, assuming her presence was on a need to know basis.

Commander Weatherfare stopped abruptly outside of the Covenant's Computer Defense and Intelligence wing. One of Julianna’s ears fell lopsided, questioning without asking a question. The Commander seemed to be fighting with himself over something. He sighed. “Your day to day tasks will not typically differ from what you are used to,” he explained and Julianna obediently nodded her understanding. “But at the moment there is a specific...problem, that I need you to get a handle on.”

“Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”

Darcy sighed again, but the sharpness of it made it sound as if he were amused by something she had said. As if he had politely chosen to ignore a moment of naivete. Darcy continued his path down the intelligence wing, Julianna in tow, her heels a sharp rhythm on the linoleum.

Commander Weatherfare opened the door to one of the large server rooms, the agents working within all seemed to stop at once and look up at him curiously. Darcy scanned the room once, before spotting who or what he was looking for.

“Bell,” he barked, motioning with his hand that he wanted that particular agent to come to him. “There’s someone I need you to meet.”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - saronym - 11-25-2016

The Covenant's Computer Defense and Intelligence wing was structured a lot like an auditorium. A large wall of monitors in the middle with stations in semi circles oriented towards the center. At the sides and along the very back, behind closed doors were the stations in which particularly sensitive data and programs were managed. Renton spent most of his time on the main floor in the final row in front of one of the compartmentalized station rooms to allow him easy access to the machines behind the locks.

He had been preoccupied and failed to note the entrance of the Commander. He was bent over in his chair, his slate grey suit jacket hung off the back, as he plugged a device into a large whirring tower when he jumped at the sound of his name. Four monitors were spread over a large circular desk at which he sat each with multiple windows half covering each other with programs running. In the action of turning around at the familiar voice of the Commander, Renton’s index finger punched a button on his keyboard and each monitor went black simultaneously.

He smiled white toothed and broad casting lines about his eyes as he pushed himself up from his chair. Renton ran his hand down the maroon and white stripped tie that was clipped to his crisp button up as he approached the Commander and his charge.

“Commander Weatherfare,” He spread his hands out, nearly swaggering up to them, “to what do I owe the honor of your visit?” Renton did not use the formal address out of respect but did it to flirt. And he did not bother to hide that intention.

Renton turned to the smartly dressed woman accompanying the Commander and offered his hand, “And who’s this? New recruit? Is this the software applications specialist I’ve been begging for?” He could only hope that the open position in his department would be filled by an attractive woman. In the midst of his string of questions to the Commander Renton managed to add, “I like those pumps,” as an aside to the new girl.

Whether or not she would be his new colleague, Renton was determined to befriend her. A personal mission he made with every attractive person he met.

Instead of shaking the woman’s hand, he pressed his mouth to her knuckles. “Renton Bell, Computer Defense and Intelligence Analyst and Systems Developer. Charmed.”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 11-26-2016

Darcy frowned noticing the suspicious way that Renton blackened his terminals, but he didn’t address the issue. For now. He continued frowning, as the agent approached them with a cocksure swagger, and a grin that was nothing short of flirtatious. Julianna’s ears pushed to attention as she watched him approach. He was well-dressed and good-looking; her most immediate observations. Also, charming, and she murmured a thank you on the subject of her shoes.

“This is Julianna Maxillion,” Darcy explained, rolling his eyes at the coquettish way Agent Bell brushed his mouth across her knuckles. Despite his show of exasperation, he did not miss the immediate flush to her cheeks in response to the gesture. “She is the new public relations manager for the C.A.F.”

Julianna smiled politely and collected her hand, it once again smoothed over her blouse before returning to her side. Brows lifted as Renton introduced himself. “As well as former black hat hacker and social justice activist.” She continued where he had not. She sounded impressed, but only minutely. She had followed Bell’s trial and subsequent ruling over the course of months that it had taken to reach a compromise.

“She will be working closely with you to tailor your public image into something more befitting of the Covenant.” While he spoke, Julianna noticed that the Commander had been keeping a very pointed distance between himself and Renton. If the specialist at all moved towards him, Darcy would take the necessary precautions maintain a space between them. “Try not to make her job to difficult.”

Darcy then started to walk away. Julianna’s tail picked up a stressed looking twitch at the level of her knees. Was that it? Those couldn’t possibly the entirety of his instructions. “C-commander Weatherfare,” she called, easily abandoning Renton and taking the quick steps required to be back at the commander’s side. He stopped, turning to look at her inquisitively.

Julianna fidgeted with the tablet tucked under her arm. “Uhm. Sorry? But am I to understand that I am being placed solely in managing Agent Bell?”

“That’s correct.”

She looked briefly appalled, ears falling to either side of her head. “At Akiona International I was in charge of nearly fifty celebrity clients. As much as I’d hate to point this out, you’re paying me four times as much to manage one person?”

“For now.”

Julianna’s jaw clenched together, the sound of it was nearly audible as she rocked her teeth back and forth. Realizing that she wasn’t going to get very much information from the commander, she pushed her ears forward, sighing sharply through her nose. She held out her hand. “Thank you for this opportunity,” she said, politely.

“Good luck, Miss Maxillion,” he replied, gravely, shaking her hand. Easily looking over her head he glared as Renton. “And Agent Bell? Behave.” He looked down at Julianna’s hand, that he still held. Shaking his head, he lifted it for the three of them to see; her bare wrist on display. “And please, return Miss Maxillion’s watch.”

Julianna gaped at her empty wrist, turning at the waist to settle green eyes on Renton.

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - saronym - 11-26-2016

“Ahh Miss Julianna Maxillion.” He repeated the name as his head bobbed in a friendly sort of nod. He approved. The new girl reclaimed her wrist sans the beautiful little timepiece that had adorned her arm. While she was preoccupied with the kiss he pressed to her knuckles he’d clasped the thing. His fingers curled around the jewelry to hide it from her sight and he slipped it right into his pocket.

Renton had no need to steal from her and he did not plan to profit it from the lift. He just did things just to do them sometimes. Call it an impulse control issue. Something about the rush of adrenaline he got from getting away with lifting a watch from a new employee in front of the Commander and anyone else who happened to be observing them.

He’d use it as leverage perhaps. Invite her to lunch in exchange for the return of her watch. Too much like a ransom. He’d work on the plan. Maybe impress her with the watch and just ask her to lunch.

As his mind turned over potential plans to steal Miss Julianna for a meal hours in the future, he listened to Julianna rattle off what she knew about him. Renton rolled his eyes playfully. “Alleged. I was only caught doing one little thing. One thing does not a black hat hacker or social justice activist make.” He corrected her with the same kind of casual merriment as he corrected anyone who labeled him such things.

Renton had no time to be disappointed that Julianna wouldn’t be his new trainee. Spirits were lifted and he clasped his hands together at the announcement of her role as essentially his personal public relations agent. He liked the implication that he was a celebrity needing special management. He could certainly behave like a celebrity.

What a change of pace from his usual boring day-to-day.

“I get my own P.R. professional? Wow! Thank you sir!” He was all but gushing over her as if she were some new toy he’d gotten at for his birthday.

Renton turned to fetch his suit jacket as he had no intention of staying in the IT wing. His stomach was growling with hunger and it was just about time to raid pastries from the Central Command administrative specialists. He slipped each arm into the coat smiling broadly at Darcy who was nearly threatening him with the command to ‘behave.’

Whatever did he mean by that? Renton always behaved.

Until it was revealed that he didn’t. As in the display of a certain bare wrist.

Renton shrugged and spread his hands. “You got me.” He moved back to Julianna and removed the piece from his pocket revealing it to her in his palm with a victorious grin on his face.

“Just a little initiation for the newbie.” He laughed it off as he clasped the jewelry back to her wrist. “Are you hungry? Let’s get some breakfast.”

Linking arms he pulled her after him into the hall and down to the elevator. He punched the floor for Central Command.

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 11-26-2016

Julianna did not like that he seemed almost excited at the prospect of being managed. She, by way of profession, was essentially a very expensive babysitter. Most people did not like being told what to do and what to say when it came to saving face. Then again, they were only being told what to do and what to say if they took her advice.

Agent Bell did not seem like he would be taking her advice. It was easy for her to see that he had his own agenda, which was paired with his own way of doing things, and he would continue doing them that way despite her new assignment to him. Julianna was not looking forward to being made to look incompetent by one alleged hacker.

Commander Weatherfare had all but abandoned her with the cheerful agent, who seemed much too pleased to have lifted her watch. She squared her shoulders as he reattached her watch to her wrist. She adjusted it with her other hand, as he helped himself to linking their arms together. “Breakfast?” she echoed, even though he was already pulling her away. She removed her clutch and her tablet from beneath her arm to hold securely in the hand that wasn’t curled around his arm. Her heels snapped as she took quick steps to keep up with his long, excited strides.

“I usually like to take some time to get to know new clients,” she explained, as they waited for the elevator. She was close enough now to notice the design of his tie clip and the scent of his cologne.

Julianna had a very particular method for assimilating new clients to her program. She could already envision the whole thing falling to pieces as Renton continued smiling that brilliant smile at her. Her tail had returned to a normal say, but one of her ears still remained lopsided. The elevator dinged and they waited as other agents filed out of it before stepping inside. “Agent Bell, where are we going?”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - saronym - 11-26-2016

Renton nodded thoughtfully before his mouth spread back into that smile that seemed ever present on his face. “Sure, but apparently you already know all about me.” He sassed her with eyebrows raised. A punishment for her earlier accusations. “So what could I possibly have to add?”

He sighed as if the prospect of ruined conversation pained him and shoved his hands into his pockets seeming to show her he wouldn’t take from her anymore. The elevator dinged almost at every floor to admit or drop off various agents many of who greeted Renton. He seemed to be well known by everyone and greeted each with familiarity. He even took to introducing Julianna as his ‘handler’ which garnered laughs and many ‘good luck with that’ kinds of greetings.

“Oh you’ll see.” He responded to her question in that infuriating way. Indeed she would. “Have a sense of adventure. Think of me as your Virgil as I guide you through hell.” The elevator dinged finally at their location. “Here we are.”

The doors opened to admit them to a hallway which lead in one direction to set of double doors printed with Central Command: authorized personnel only. There were armed men in full military gear at either side of the door who stared straight ahead. They didn’t address Renton who they recognized easily as someone with access to the floor. Their eyes tracked Julianna, an individual they had never seen before.

“This is not like Buckingham Palace okay? They do react if you tease them.” Renton warned in a whisper to Julianna as they approached. Renton pulled a lanyard ID from his pocket and pressed it to the keypad which turned from red to green accompanied by the sounds of locks.

As Renton ushered Julianna through the door a guard stepped in front. “Hold on Agent Bell. Does she have clearance?”
Renton tsked and pulled the lanyard from Julianna’s jacket and handed it to the man. “She’s got one of those temp IDs. No permissions yet. You know the girls down at HR are so incompetent. She’s with me though. My new handler. Ask Commander Weatherfare yourself.”

He grinned at the guard who frowned and handed back the lanyard. He wouldn’t be disturbing the Commander to ask about the troublesome Agent Bell. He waved them through.

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 11-26-2016

Julianna looked briefly apologetic, even though she and everyone else knew her accusations had been correct. “I allegedly know about you,” she replied, deliberately using his word from earlier. She tilted her head, dark waves falling over her shoulder and for some reason she found herself smiling. As if the expression were contagious when it came from him. “I need to know more about your personal life, the real one. Not the one you show off for the media.”

He removed his arm from hers to push hands in his pockets to accompany whatever show he was trying to put on. She simply moved her freed arm in front of her, holding the clutch and tablet against her thighs. Julianna fell quiet in the elevator, the things she actually needed to discuss with him weren’t entirely fit for shop talk lest he had less than favorable answers to what she needed to know. The small space of the elevator was continually full, and her tail wanted to twitch in her agitation, having no preference for tight spaces. She focused her attention of willing it to stillness, offering stiff smiles in the face of Renton’s easy banter.

Her steps were less eager than they had been before, but she continued to follow him. For whatever reason she trusted him not to lead her astray, thought that would likely be her downfall in the future. Her ear twitched as his voice lowered to a whisper, he was tall enough that he was positioned right above her ear without having to lean. “I-what?” She clearly wanted to protest, but fell quiet under the weighted gazes of the armed guards, and remained notably so as Renton bargained with them. He’d already made his disregard for her personal space known, but she still frowned when he pulled the ID from her pocket, it fell away with a snap and she watched as the guard inspected it.

Julianna listened to the easy way the he manipulated the guards into giving him what he wanted, and if she hadn’t been aware before, the difficulty of her job was made abundantly clear. She didn’t smile as she gingerly retrieved her ID from the guard, and was immediately escorted away with a firm hand at the middle of her back.

“Agent Bell,” she all but hissed from between clenched teeth. “I am fairly certain I am not supposed to be here.”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - saronym - 11-28-2016

Renton scoffed loudly at Julianna’s display of naivety that she would know anything about his “real” personal life. He adjusted his tie, wiggling it back and forth on his neck. A sassy gesture. “I’m really not so deep.”

He went on to greet the passengers on the elevator with warm familiarity as a sort of show for Julianna. She might think him a criminal but he was a damn charming one and everyone liked him anyway. Smirking at her obvious tension on the elevator - he could imagine she was anxious to begin her work to earn her pay - Renton put a hand between her shoulder blades to escort her onto the Command Central floor.

She hesitated in her pace but he went on ahead as if he hadn’t noticed. He walked with an unhurried easy confidence that always suggested he belonged exactly wherever he was found. Even if that was the server room to a private corporation he had no business infiltrating. Or lounge of the Command Central floor.

Once cleared for entrance, Renton clipped the ID card back to Julianna’s lapel. Bending close to her ear he whispered back to her, “You’ve got the first day jitters. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” He linked his arm through hers again to steer her away from the bustling reception area of the floor and straight to the overly luxurious lounge area that Central Command officers and staff enjoyed. The floor had a higher energy to it than the IT floor did. A never ending string of phones ringing, heels clipping along the floors, aides hustling down the halls, and the occasional raised voice.

“The way it works here is someone with clearance can escort you into areas that you don’t have clearance for. I vouched for you. So be cool.” Renton explained as they ducked into the lounge.

That was not the way security worked at the CAF in the slightest. Not even close. In fact being caught in a secured area without the proper clearance was grounds for at least dismissal if not prosecution under the right circumstances. Renton figured Julianna had not been provided with her employee handbook yet, and if she had she likely had not found the time to read through the excessive amount of regulations employees were expected to follow. In short, he was banking on her ignorance.

In the lounge, Renton moved to the cart displaying a range of pastries and fruit. Just two croissants were left and he plucked one for Julianna and one for himself.

“So -” He bit into his pastry sending flakes falling to his suit jacket. “What do you want to know about me?”

A voice familiar to him boomed outside the door giving a series of clipped but complicated instructions in an aggressive tone which was followed by 'yes sirs.' Renton smiled at Julianna waiting for her to ask her questions as he nibbled at his breakfast.

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 11-28-2016

Julianna inhaled a slow, calming breath as she watched his hands adjust his tie. Good luck, the Commander had said as he departed and she was getting the feeling that she was going to need it. Despite his supposed enthusiasm, Agent Bell did not seem particularly keen on having a 'handler' as it were. In her management experience his defiance meant he was mostly a private person, which would make her job somewhat easier. Even if he, personally, did not. “Well, then your shallowness will lend to making parts of my job easier.” She said this with an amused, stony sort of face, turning her body away from him to stare forward for the rest of their elevator ride. Better than getting lost in those charming blue eyes.

Renton would have been incorrect on several fronts, despite his perceptiveness. Julianna did not think him a criminal. In fact she found his alleged work fascinating, not that she would tell him at this rate. Secondly, her eagerness was strictly about getting off of the elevator as soon as possibl. Her tail was making irritable passes at her calves, unintentionally passing across the fabric of Renton’s slacks. Work, she was less eager for. Work meant that he had somehow managed to fuck up, and she would prefer he not do so, so immediately.

She passively watched him reattach her ID. Another jerk of her ear as he spoke against it, the vibrations of his voice irritating the fine hairs on the inside. Almost batting him in the mouth with the furred appendage. When he pulled away they twitched in rapid succession before falling against her hair. “I don’t have the first day jitters,” she shot back. This wasn’t her first rodeo, so to speak. “I have the being lead into spaces I don’t belong jitters.” She could feel his hand slide across her back through the thin fabric of her blouse, before he linked his arm with hers. Once again her tail pinwheeled towards her spine as he ushered her through the halls.

Be cool, he advised, but she did not believe his explanation. It would be just like an unruly client to work on getting her reprimanded, or worse, fired, within an hour of her entering the building. Ignorant indeed however, and she was already across the restricted threshold so her fate was sealed. Ears pushed to attention, tail falling to her feet as she squared her shoulders and silently coached herself on not being intimidated by Agent Bell or the space she occupied.

Tucking her belongings beneath her arm, she plucked a tiny napkin from the table to hold the croissant, but she did not immediately eat it. It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry. Quite the contrary, as her breakfast had consisted of two cups of coffee and the morning paper. But accepting his baked offering seemed too much like giving into his whims.

Green eyes rolled upwards to lock with blue ones, and she cleared her throat. “The more I know about you the more I am able to anticipate your actions,” she explained, evenly. “And I can react, or counter-react accordingly. I need to know things like a strong preference for... cocaine or hookers,” her voice had lowered unintentionally, but she still paused in her speech to watch a pair of executive assistants walk by. “So I can have statements prepared on the chance you get exposed with either.”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - saronym - 11-28-2016

Renton glanced down at his feet at the feeling of something moving across his slacks and to watch with interest the agitated movements of Julianna’s tail. Was he the cause of such charming activity? He couldn’t help but wonder how soft the fur was but was somehow polite enough not to reach for it. Perhaps another day.

He was only half-way aware of the twitching ears near his mouth as his eyes had been occupied in scanning the room for anyone who might notice a woman acting very tense. He usually got away with breaking rules and laws thanks to his golden tongue and confidence. Their cover could easily be spoiled by this new girl looking all shifty.

Renton continued whittling away at the flaking pastry and he wiped off his suit jacket each time new bits fell onto him. Listening to Julianna explain her intentions left Renton with the only conclusion that she was truly naive. Just an open book. As if he would just tell her everything about his personal life.

He smiled in a way that suggested guilt as if she’d pegged his exact recreational activities. “Better prepare for everything. Can’t be too careful.”

The door to the lounge pushed open to admit a blonde officer dressed in a black dress uniform. He filled the doorway with his frame as he handed off a file to an aide passing by. Renton turned away right when the door opened and moved to occupy himself with the coffee pot with his back to the new comer leaving Julianna exposed by the pastry cart.

The officer switched a leather portfolio from under one arm to the other as he entered the room letting the door swing close behind him. Grey eyes settled on a woman he didn’t recognize holding a croissant. The last croissant. He stopped in his tracks and studied the woman with a frown that clouded his eyes. An index finger lifted the ID clipped to her lapel and his displeasure only deepened when he read the information for himself. Clearly she was not authorized to be holding croissants in Central Command.

“Miss Maxillion.” He greeted her as if they had already met. His name was printed on his left breast Brigadier General Owen R. Hart and therefore he expected everyone to know him. Even someone with a temporary identification. “What business brings you to Central Command this morning?”

Renton meanwhile was sidling away towards the seating area trying to get out of Owen's line of sight. He hid a mischievous smile behind a cup of coffee. How fun to watch the Public Relations girl clear her image for the severe Brigadier General.

The officer’s fingers snapped loudly in the direction of the man who thought he could slip away unseen. “Agent Bell. Does this belong to you?” He asked gesturing with a hand to the woman he was presently looming over.

Renton wheeled around flashing that white smile for the room. He’d been caught but he wouldn't act as such. “Brigadier General! Meet Julianna. She’s my new handler.” He said as he sauntered back to the pair.

Grey eyes flicked from Renton to Julianna and back again that disapproving stare ever present. Owen extended his hand to the woman for a shake, “I suggest you review CAF Employee Security Codes Section F, Miss Maxillion before Agent Bell here costs you your new job. Which is what exactly?”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 11-28-2016

There was brief swivel to her left ear, but otherwise Julianna did not react to his cheeky response. She had come to expect it from him and had resigned to the knowledge that this would be a very one-sided effort. “Of course Agent Bell. I suppose I have nothing but time to prepare." Her tone was almost icy. "With you being my only client.” This idea still gnawed at her, pulled away from a lucrative position to babysit one upstart hacker.

Alleged hacker.

Julianna frowned as Renton moved towards the coffee pot and out of the range of distance that left her feeling at comfortable with being in Central Command. Her posture indicates that she would not be calming down in the foreseeable future. Almost simultaneously to his abandonment, she felt a presence moving towards her back. A strange chill ran down her spine and ears pushed to attention as she turned around in time to see the blonde officer frowning at her, and watch him approach until he stood right in front of her. More accurately, he towered. Even in her heels he was wildly taller than she was. Julianna was now painfully aware of why Renton had left her by the cart. in her mind, the idea that he intended to get her in trouble was solidified. Still holding the uneaten pastry she watched as the Brigadier General moved for her nametag. She was noticing a trend in a lack of reverence for personal space.

Her expression remained neutral as he questioned her presence. Ears and tail were remarkably still; a reaction that made her seem less like prey and broadcasted her current distaste for being loomed over. “I'm assigned to working with Agent Bell. For the moment I go where he-” she was interrupted by his snap and his address of Renton. She pressed her lips together and silently listened as if she was briefly spoken of like an object to be claimed. Her brow furrowed, breaking the smooth lines of her previously blank expression.

The croissant switched hands and she quickly swiped her fingers across the napkin before shaking hands with the Brigadier General. “Of course. I will look into it right away, sir,” she acquiesced easily, having no intent of disagreeing with an officer whose tone left no room for argument. Her gaze left stormy grey eyes to observe Renton from her periphery. “I am a Public Relations professional,” she explained, allowing her eyes to return to Owen. “I've been hired to tailor Agent Bell’s public image to something more befitting of his contract with the C.A.F.”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - saronym - 12-03-2016

I've been hired to tailor Agent Bell’s public image, she had said, meanwhile Renton was scooting back towards the pair. His pearly whites were still on display in a smile that emphasized his attractive cheekbones. Blue eyes glittering with whatever scheme he had in mind. The mischievous techie waved at Owen as if they hadn’t met before when Julianna said his name again.

Owen resisted the urge to smile back. It was as if he was ever in a tug of war with the IT specialist. Renton trying to pull a smile out of him with Owen pulling back holding his face in that infuriatingly neutral position. The Brigadier General pursed his lips keeping all expression from his face. This was a much more difficult task than usual given the ridiculous suggestion that Renton’s image could be tamed. Wouldn’t that mean Renton himself had to be tamed?

An eyebrow arched, “You don’t say.” He mused to Julianna before he plucked the croissant right from her open hand. “If you make it through the first week come see me and I’ll share some of my files on him.” He bit into the croissant, taking half of it in one bite and chewed slowly. Owen nodded his appreciation of the pastry as if he hadn’t taken it from her.

Renton gasped dramatically. “You have a file on me?” He moved closer to Owen standing so that he was forced to tilt his head upwards to keep looking him in the eye. “I’ve never seen it.”

Owen dropped the croissant back onto the napkin in Julianna’s hand. “That’s because it’s not electronic.” He rubbed his fingers together to knock crumbs to the floor. “A paper file. In a safe.”

This only seemed to encourage Renton even more. Perhaps even flattered him a little bit. He looked at Julianna and mouthed ‘oh my god, a safe,’ before turning back to Owen. “Where is it? Please tell me it’s hidden behind a painting or something.”

Owen stared at Julianna though he was addressing Renton. He blinked slowly, unamused that Renton was so happy to learn of a safe containing a file on him. “Get your hand off my wallet, Bell.”

Renton froze. His hand was indeed hidden in the pocket of the Brigadier General. A mischievous smile parted his lips. It was almost as if he meant to be caught. As if he were trying to display his bad behavior for his new babysitter to show her what a challenge she had with him. “Oh so that’s your wallet?” He asked as if he meant to be touching something else. “My bad.” And he removed his hand.

Owen crossed his arms over his chest and continued his hard stare at Julianna. “So what exactly is your game plan here?”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - megs - 12-03-2016

Though she was aware of the Brigadier General’s scalding gaze on her, Julianna took a step to the side. She moved her body in such away that allowed her to view both men more easily. More of a circle, and less Renton slightly behind her. To be perfectly honest, after the incident with her watch he’d made her slow to trust him. Her gaze switched between the two men as Owen turned his attention to Renton for a brief moment.

“Hey-” she started to protest when he took her pastry as if it belonged to him. The word was cut off in her throat after she deemed it unnecessary as he was already biting into it. Golden brown flakes trailing from his hand and towards the floor. She frowned, her ears twitching erratically upon her head. First her watch and now her pastry; what about her signaled to these men that they could take whatever they wanted from her? Her eyes shot towards him again and there was a delicate furrow to her brow. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” she replied, certain that he only offered with the smug idea that she wouldn’t last a week.

Hmph. She would be very pleased to rub that back in his face.

When she stepped out of the way to allow Agent Bell the space he wanted to occupy between herself and the officer, the half-eaten pastry was returned to her. She frowned at it, as the other two kept one another busy. For a moment, she considered allowing him to have the whole thing, but since that was probably what he wanted she kept it. There was very little in the form of unspoken challenge that could be deciphered from a pilfered pastry, but Julianna was creative. Tearing off a piece of the buttery dough, she pushed it into her mouth and simultaneously rolled her eyes in response to Renton’s excitement.

Agent Hart was still looking at her, so she looked back, doing her best to keep her expression neutral without leaning towards deliberately defiant. She continued her careful task of pulling apart the croissant. She couldn’t help but glance down at her watch when Renton’s wallet stealing plot was revealed. Julianna was satisfied to find it was still on her wrist.

When the croissant was finished she cleaned her fingers on the napkin, and skirted around the two men to dispose of the trash. The heavy fabric of her skirt swished around her knees as she walked, heels clicking. Carefully, she brushed at her shirt in case of crumbs, and then pulled her belongings from beneath her arm. She returned to the pair, once again holding her clutch and tablet with both hands against her legs. She was aware of Owen’s continued stare, but pretended as if she weren't.

He was asking her plan. She had been in the building for ninety minutes and had just been introduced to her client. Insofar, she had no plan, but she couldn’t admit that to him. “Well, I am only in charge of his public image. The fact that he’s charming and dresses well on his own handles about thirty percent of my usual work.” It was a joke, but she didn’t sound like she was joking, because she wasn’t feeling particularly amused or funny at the moment. Her face still a blank mask. “It’s my job to attempt to coach him on how to talk to the press. His trial is still ongoing, there will be a lot of media coverage, due to his compulsory contract.” She was racking her brain for things she remembered having already seen in the news. She was competent, but just being in Owen’s looming presence made her feel like she wasn’t. “This is, however, a team effort in it’s entirety. I can only help as much as Agent Bell is willing to let me, and since I am to assume Agent Bell would like to stay out of prison…” she spared Renton a glance. “He will be amiable to my assistance.”

RE: Public Relations [Closed] - saronym - 12-07-2016

Owen was fully aware of her protestations both verbal and nonverbal and they had no effect upon his claiming of the croissant. If anything it was only funny to him that she reacted that way. The movement of her ears drawing his gaze as he wiped off his fingers.

An elegant shrug of the officer’s shoulder as if it were no skin off his nose whether she accepted his help with Renton or not. “The offer is there.” He mused knowingly as if he expected her to come running to him for assistance wrangling the unruly Agent Bell. It was only a matter of time.

Both men were quiet and still while Julianna laid out her plan for taming Renton. Standing side to side they watched and listened silently. Renton beamed at Owen when she complimented him, calling him charming and well-dressed. Owen’s face remained impassive. He returned the shorter man’s smile with a thin lipped expression that showed he wasn’t particularly amused or impressed.

Owen couldn’t withhold a snort when she made the suggestion that Renton would have to work cooperatively to shore up his public image. “Alright then Miss Maxillion seems like you have it all figured out.”

His hand moved to the pocket that Renton had tried to take from and removed a black leather wallet. Owen pulled out a business card in heavy card stock and offered it to her. The card was held between index and middle fingers face up revealing that it was his. Printed with his name, rank, email address, office phone, and cell phone.

“If you need anything.” He insisted. He was insisting that she would need something. And that he would be the one to help her.

Renton craned to get a peek at the numbers printed on the card. He had a photographic memory and could find himself with access to the handsome Brigadier General’s cell phone number. Owen sensing Renton’s movement tilted the card just enough to be out of his sight. There were other ways to secure someone’s phone number of course.