Heiden>	Eleven is sitting in one of his many offices, reviewing documentation of the incident.
	<Break>	Elsewhere, an attractive, tanned Italian woman, reviews video logs of an incident in the recent past. She regards this with some amusement - and indeed, a bowl of kettle corn rests on her desk.
	<Break>	A shrill shriek of terror shouts out from her laptop's speakers - nothing more than the usual, she thinks, as she looks out the window. More snow.
	<Break>	An assistant hands a manila folder to the woman, the contents of which she pores over carefully. More of his work, she thinks with a smile.
	<Break>	She reaches for her phone, and patches herself through the usual line in order to contact Eleven.
	<Heiden>	Eleven crumples up another sheet of paper and throws it into the nearby wastebasket. "God /damnit/," he snarls, pulling a cigarette case out of his jacket pocket and flicking it open.
	<Heiden>	Eleven picks up the phone. "What is it." A raspy, angry monotone.
	<Break>	"I'm hurt!" she says, with mock disappointment. "Do you not love me anymore?"
	<Break>	She holds up a small paper notice attached to the front of the materials, stating that a full action report for the latest 342 incident was forthcoming.
	<Heiden>	"What's going on, Ten, I've got a lot to deal with right now." He fumbles with a lighter for a few seconds before lighting the cigarette and taking a few grateful draws.
	<Break>	"Not one to talk about young love, then? Pity."
	<Heiden>	"That was ages ago, Ten. You're not the type to call to reminisce."
	<Break>	"As for what's going on....clearly, -you- are what's going on."
	<Heiden>	"How's Seven doing, I hear you two had a thing."
	* Heiden	laughs, but it's a mirthless one.
	<Break>	"Lies, slander, and general truthfuckery."
	<Heiden>	"Truthfuckery, well isn't that always it."
	<Break>	Ten smiles. "I have a notice here, printed in looooovely font - because, seriously, who uses Papyrus anymore? - that I'm to receive an after-action report on a recent incident."
	<Break>	"Naturally, I'm not patient enough to wait."
	<Break>	"Since we can't cuddle, I think you'll have to blow off some steam by telling me all about it, no?"
	<Heiden>	"342 experimentation resumed about three hours ago."
	<Heiden>	"Site 23 cocked it up."
	<Break>	"Super!"
	<Break>	"Sounds like the usual, from what I've been hearing."
	<Heiden>	"I gave them something to think about, we'll see if that fixes it. At least they had the decency to pick a location out in the middle of fucking nowhere."
	<Break>	"Oooh, oooh." She straighten up in her seat, and slides her bowl of kettle corn closer to her in anticipation. "Give me the dirty details," she growls.
	<Heiden>	"Only if you promise to keep talking like that." He chuckles despite himself.
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	<Break>	"You drive a hard bargain."
	<Break>	She pauses for a few moments to make it seem as if she is giving the matter serious thought. "Alright, Mister Eastwood. You win."
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	<Heiden>	"Well. From what I've gotten, it looks like they tried to run a standard 'Give-A-D-the-Ticket' experiment to establish a baseline. Not a bad plan to start out with."
	<Break>	"Not a bad upgrade from 'Fall-D-Says-What?'"
	<Break>	"Clearly, you are a mastermind."
	<Heiden>	"Of course, of course."
	<Heiden>	"I deserve this for reopening the damn thing, I know."
	<Break>	"Go on, tiger," she growls, humoring Eleven for the time being.
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	<Heiden>	"They picked an isolated rail line out in bumblefuck, nowhere, to test it on. Legit enough for 342's purposes, 'cause it took it, and if this was it I'd say damn good job on your first trial."
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	<Break>	"Mmmm."
	<Heiden>	"Instead, they ended up shooting the D to death, one of their security units lobbed a grenade into an open train car after a witness tried to escape, and they had to literally jump off the train and radio for evacuation."
	<Break>	"Ha!"
	<Break>	"What was that guy thinking?"
	<Break>	"WE ARE IN A COMPACT SPACE WITH CIVILIANS NEARBY"
	<Heiden>	"Don't have a fucking clue if he /was/. Scary part is, he isn't Security, he's Research."
	<Heiden>	"That means he's the brains of this outfit."
	<Break>	"CLEARLY, I MUST LOB A BALL OF FLAMING NAPALM DEATH TO TAKE CARE OF THIS NONSTANDARD SITUATION"
	<Break>	"A-DERP." Eleven -knows- she is miming pulling a grenade pin and giving it an overhand toss.
	<Heiden>	"I - goddamnit, Ten, you win. Believe me, I was not aware cock-ups of this magnitude were /possible/ before now."
	<Break>	"CERTAINLY, WE DON'T HAVE SHIT LIKE TASERS OR TRANQUILIZERS FOR SITUATIONS LIKE THIS. PEZZO DI MERDA."
	<Break>	Ten coughs. "Sorry. Any longer and I would have -drowned- in the sarcasm."
	<Break>	She calmly pops a couple of kettle corn pieces into her mouth as if nothing had happened.
	<Heiden>	"It's a fucking mess, and I made sure to rub the Research Director's nose in it."
	<Break>	"Did he die? Pleeeeeeeaaaase tell me he died. Like, chunky fucking -salsa-."
	<Break>	"I mean, uh."
	<Heiden>	"She - and no, I think she just cried, but that's because I told her she was gonna use one of her own folks to replace the D she wasted."
	<Break>	"Those poor civilians."
	<Break>	"Ouch, guy."
	<Break>	"Was it Grenade McBain?"
	<Heiden>	"Nah, she was pissed at him, and he deserved it."
	<Heiden>	"It's about teaching a lesson, not making them feel good."
	<Heiden>	"Signed the Espionage agent attache over to her command and told her that was the new subject."
	<Break>	"I suppose. Still can't help but feel bad for our new D here."
	<Heiden>	"Oh, she isn't a D."
	<Break>	"She might as well be."
	<Heiden>	"True."
	<Heiden>	"Life's tough, though."
	<Break>	"Stamp the designation right on her ass."
	<Break>	"Bright pink."
	<Break>	"Rainbows and unicorns and everything."
	<Heiden>	"You've been giving a lot of thought to this, haven't you?"
	<Break>	"I have absolutely -no- clue what you are talking about, Mister Eastwood," she says, clearly feigning ignorance.
	<Break>	"Anything else?" she purrs.
	<Heiden>	"Pff. Anyhow. No, just cleaning up on the Espionage end. It's a real mess Down Under, and it'll get worse if we don't get the video off the market soon."
	<Break>	She slides in an open drawer containing, among other things, a bring pink ink pad.
	<Break>	*bright
	<Break>	"What are you authorizing to deal with this, then?"
	<Heiden>	"The lethal force suite, obviously. If we need to disappear a few reporters, get it done. Amnesiacs are being mass-distributed through Sites 11, 37, 23, and 42."
	<Break>	"Such a gentle touch, Eastwood."
	<Heiden>	"Most important is that the video doesn't get to any major broadcast centers. The internet's a lost fucking cause, as usual, but Espionage is doing their best to keep it off most stuff the public can readily access."
	<Break>	"Gentle like a hammer right to the ass."
	<Break>	"Pffft."
	<Break>	"Don't worry about the internet."
	<Break>	"They cry 'FAKE! FAAAAAKE! SEE THE PIXELS?!' on everything as it is."
	<Heiden>	"I can tell because of the pixels, and from having seen a few shops in my time." Eleven adds sardonically.
	<Break>	"I mean, fuck, we could just slap some techno on there and a few lines of text."
	<Break>	"Bam, the video is now a car commercial."
	<Heiden>	"Oh, God. You're right."
	<Break>	"'This is what happens when you don't drive a BMW.' Fund it."
	<Heiden>	"Some sleek coupe pulls up."
	<Heiden>	"The Foundation XR-12. It'll knock you dead."
	<Break>	"Send it to Information Security. They do good work."
	<Break>	"....just not at 23. Not touching that place with a pole attached to other, more strudy poles."
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	<Heiden>	"Touched enough pole when you used to swing by 23, huh?"
	<Break>	"/Cazzo,/" she says with a chuckle.
	<Break>	"No, I just don't like being shot."
	<Break>	"In the collarbone."
	<Break>	"Twice."
	<Heiden>	"Ouch. I wouldn't, either. Must've missed that bit of excitement."
	<Break>	"That's because you don't care about me anymore," she says with a fake sniffle and a practiced wavering in her voice.
	<MisterFlames>	Somewhere, Dr. Parlan MacKay sneezes, and rubs an ear.
	<Heiden>	"Life's hard, sweets, you gotta toughen up somehow. Getting shot isn't a bad way to go about it."
	<Break>	"You haven't been shot, have you?"
	<Heiden>	"Honey, I was Security back when I was a young buck."
	<Break>	"Oh, that's right, you were the dumb muscle. Sorry! Forgot!"
	<Break>	"Nothing else I need to know about, hon?"
	<Heiden>	"Don't think there's anything you /need/ to know about. I'm just doing you a favor."
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	<Break>	Ten scoffs. "Well, fine, -be- that way."
	<Heiden>	"How's that Kill on Sight order going, by the way? Heard you put one out personally on some fella, name of Yoric?"
	<Break>	"I just thought you were softening up for once."
	<Break>	"Eh."
	<Break>	"Haven't heard from him in months."
	<Break>	"No sightings, nothing. Probably decided to learn how to fly."
	<Break>	"While being tethered to a branch by a noose."
	<Heiden>	"That'd be awfully nice of him. Not like you to talk to /nice/ guys, is it?"
	<Break>	"Hey!"
	<Break>	"You're nice!"
	<Heiden>	"Aw, that's sweet of you to say, but I thought I was just dumb muscle?"
	<Break>	"Once a month. I swear, it's like you have a reverse period going on or something?"
	<Break>	*.
	<Break>	"Besides. How nice you are has little to do with how smart you are."
	<Heiden>	"A tongue that sharp's gonna get you in trouble one day, little lady."
	<Break>	"I'm sorry, what was that?"
	<Break>	"I can't hear you over that whining sound from your fancy new vagina."
	<Heiden>	Hearty, genuine laughter. Good god, you didn't think it was possible.
	<Break>	"But yes, if that's all, I'll leave you to your self-loathing."
	<Heiden>	"Love you too, Ten. Take care of yourself."
	<Break>	"Ta-ta for now, love. Call me when you notice signs of menopause."
	<Break>	Click. Goddamn parting shots.