Eve looked across the room toward the bedroom, wondering what it was John was doing. He'd told her to stay out in the loungeroom of the suite, and made her promise she wouldn't come in till he called her. The concern on his face and the strange object that was on the floor, covered in a large smudged tarpaulin, made her nod and back out, giving him one last curious look before closing the door behind her. He'd been having meetings with people for weeks, and all he'd said is it might be a way for him find a way to go back and get Sam. Make sure she was safe. Get her away from the Corporation.
She understood his determination. After what he'd told her of his time in the future she could also understand why he didn't want her to know too much, in case things went wrong. No matter what they couldn't torture the truth from someone if they didn't know it in the first place. And that's what John had said they were like.
She paced slowly around the room, tugging the bathrobe tighter around herself and then went and poured some coffee. Her hands cradled the cup as she blew gently across the surface and stood staring out the large windows down into the streets below, again wondering what it was that had John so determined, worried a little that it might be dangerous. She caught herself thinking that and huffed a slightly derisive laugh at herself. Yeah, right!
She heard the knock at the door, rather urgent, and looked from it to the bedroom door, still firmly closed, and back to the door. Putting her coffee cup down she crossed across the large room and looked through the peephole, frowning at what she saw. A strange man, in a suit and what appeared to be runners, jigging somewhat impatiently and glancing up and down the hall. Her fingers closed around the baby Glock she'd slipped into her pocket on the way to the door and she cautiously opened it, still on the chain, and looked out at the man, a pleasant but curious smile on her face.
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Date: 2007-10-14 04:32 am (UTC)She understood his determination. After what he'd told her of his time in the future she could also understand why he didn't want her to know too much, in case things went wrong. No matter what they couldn't torture the truth from someone if they didn't know it in the first place. And that's what John had said they were like.
She paced slowly around the room, tugging the bathrobe tighter around herself and then went and poured some coffee. Her hands cradled the cup as she blew gently across the surface and stood staring out the large windows down into the streets below, again wondering what it was that had John so determined, worried a little that it might be dangerous. She caught herself thinking that and huffed a slightly derisive laugh at herself. Yeah, right!
She heard the knock at the door, rather urgent, and looked from it to the bedroom door, still firmly closed, and back to the door. Putting her coffee cup down she crossed across the large room and looked through the peephole, frowning at what she saw. A strange man, in a suit and what appeared to be runners, jigging somewhat impatiently and glancing up and down the hall. Her fingers closed around the baby Glock she'd slipped into her pocket on the way to the door and she cautiously opened it, still on the chain, and looked out at the man, a pleasant but curious smile on her face.
"Yes? Can I help you?"