[017]

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies appears in the middle of the Plane clearly arriving straight from work. she's in a suit, as well as wearing an ID card hanging from her neck and a belt of police gear around her waist. however, her hair is disheveled and she looks very concerned about something. ignoring her surroundings, she pulls her right arm against her, twisting the fabric of her shirt so see can see the underside of it. she frowns down at a small round scortch mark on her shirt for a moment before she presses against it, still frowning, but showing no sign of pain as she prods at the area]

[after a moment, she lets her arm go and now stares down at her own hands in confusion--as though she expects to find some sort of answer there. she considers silently for a bit, chewing her lip. but eventually she sighs before mumbling to herself:] I wish I had a knife...

[ooc: Menzies' wish has had the accidental side effect of making her invulnerable for a month! Just a warning that if you give her something sharp, she's going to do a little (ultimately harmless) test with it.]

Comments

[grip_on_reality]

[she scoffs, sure he already knows that's not what she meant. because while his request of Fleming might require money from her part rather than just favours (if she even agrees to it), she knows better than to expect to be able to use currency across universes] A favour. You already owe me one, of course--because I 'ope you weren't just expecting that gadget out of the goodness of me 'eart. But that sort of tech would require something, ah, more significant.

Oh, obviously. [there's sarcastic amusement in her tone because, of course, she's going to be present. but she considers their options, she has to admit that she doesn't really fancy driving Narvin to her flat, but she realises she can bring him there with the Plane teleporter. that way they'll get this over with more quickly and he'll know less about where she lives] Right. 'ave you got any keys on you? [because she won't be able to bring him with her using the teleporter if he does]

[timesbureaucrat]

I understand quid pro quo just fine. I'll do nothing that might endanger Gallifrey or compromise my duties, but beyond that I think I can manage a favour or two.

[When Narvin refers to "humans" he isn't including Menzies in that category. She is human, of course, and he knows that. But she's working with him, which in his mind makes her not one of the alien masses.]

Keys? You mean ordinary metal keys? No. Why?

[grip_on_reality]

[she nods] Good to know. [she doubts she'd be asking for anything potentially dangerous to Gallifrey anyway, so those conditions don't worry her. after all, they're not particularly different from the conditions she operates under herself]

[as they've been talking, she's led them to an alley around the side of the shop to make this part less obvious. it's a grimy little corner, but it's empty and private enough for them to disappear without shocking anyone, though she wouldn't trust it for their technology test] Maybe not just that. Anything that works as a key might be a problem--I 'aven't tested it that extensively yet. Basically, I've got a little gadget from the Plane for teleporting, but it's got that as a catch. So if you've got anything like that on you, you might want to drop it on the Plane for a minute. Give me a tick to do that, too. [without further ado, she disappears to the Plane to drop off her keys temporarily, but she reappears almost immediately. she's now holding a tiny, handheld metal device with one button on it] So. If you 'aven't got anything key-like, take my arm, and we'll be out of sight in no time.

[timesbureaucrat]

I have nothing key-like at all, unless its restrictions extend to the rather metaphorical. [The Rassilon Imprimatur was almost like a key, a genetic passcode to activate a time capsule. But it wasn't exactly something he could remove from himself and leave on the Plane.

He tentatively takes her arm. Well, this method of travel has to be better than automobile, he thinks.]

[grip_on_reality]

Let's 'ope not. [she wonders what he means by that, but she doubts he'd share even if she did ask, so she just focuses her attention on the teleporter. thankfully, she's experimented with it enough by now to know that she doesn't need to speak the address aloud, so she just closes her eyes and pictures the main room of her flat, pressing the button]

[the transportation is instantaneous, and they're now in her flat. specifically, they're in the living area, with a sofa just in front of them. past that is a table and somewhat-old television set. the walls are lined with several cases containing books and one for DVDs. the books are a mix of classics and sci-fi stories, but the DVDs are mostly sci-fi related. on the table in front of the TV, there's currently a copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy lying out, as well as a few file folders]

[behind them, the living area segues into a small kitchen. the entire flat is rather plain, with white walls, tan and brown furniture and carpet, and white tile in the kitchen. there isn't much by way of decoration, although a window in the kitchen is covered by rather hideous lacy drapes that look out of place enough to indicate they probably belonged to a prior occupant. in fact, aside from the books and DVDs and a few kitchen implements lying about, the only real personal touch is a few plants--flowers by the kitchen window and a fern by a window in the living area. there is also one framed photo next to the fern, showing Menzies in her early 20s, standing in uniform and smiling proudly. a woman, perhaps in her 40s, is standing next to her, with short brown hair and the same dark eyes. she has a hand on Menzies' shoulder and looks quite as proud herself. in general, the flat is plain but neat. other than the two visible rooms, there's a corridor leading to the rest of the flat]

One minute. [Menzies pulls away from Narvin and disappears, returning to the Plane to retrieve her keys. an instant later, she's back] So, anything else you're gonna need to do what you're doing?

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin curiously picks up the copy of Hitchhiker's Guide and flips through it. Then he glances around, learning what he can about his ally.]

All I need is peace and quiet so I can concentrate. Is that your mother? [He nods towards the picture.]

[grip_on_reality]

Easy enough. [she follows him, picking up the file folders from the table. the paperwork will give her something to do, as she has no intention of leaving Narvin alone in her flat to run his experiment. she'll sit in the kitchen, but she wants to be able to see what he's up to]

[the question surprises her, though. it seems oddly personal from someone who, so far, has shown a lot of disdain for humans. but reminding herself that he does intelligence work, she can begin to imagine why he's asking, and she sees no reason not to answer] Yeah, it is.

[not that this means she knows how to make small talk with Narvin, of course. and especially not about her own personal life. so she's going to leave it at that unless he has more he wants to know]

[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin is busy opening up the casing to the communications device they just acquired, but he continues to speak. Not quite asking a question, but poking about for information all the same.]

She looks very proud of you.

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies moves into the kitchen area, setting the file folders onto that table and having a seat. she takes the hint, though] Ah, yeah. It's when I became an officer, so I suppose you could say she was glad to see me set for life. [she opens one of the folders, pulling out a few pages] And before you ask--yep, just a mother. Grew up in a single parent household, etc. [because she has a feeling he's digging for information, and she doesn't mind him knowing any of that]

[also, she figures it's a good way to open an information exchange] What about you? Got much family?

[timesbureaucrat]

[He hesitates a moment, but there's nothing potentially compromising about the information.]

I had many House cousins, of course, like any Gallifreyan, the standard number of genetic donors [parents], which is to say, two of them, but no siblings. I gave up my House affiliations when I joined the agency, so they're family only in the biological sense of the word.

[grip_on_reality]

[she glances at him, surprised] You 'ad to cut all ties to join? So, what, it's some sort of secret government agency?

[because she figures it's worth asking the question, even if she doubts he'll be willing to give her much of an answer--or, even if he does, she knows it might not be an honest answer. but she'd rather try than not, and she knows she can always ask the Doctor about it later, too]

[timesbureaucrat]

Not exactly. [In the sense that the Gallifreyan government only had marginal control over what the CIA did much of the time.]

But we are neutral. House and Chapter political rivalries can get very messy sometimes, and we are expected to stay out of it. We are supposed to serve a higher loyalty, to the planet and the timelines, and not allow ourselves to be dragged into family squabbles.

[grip_on_reality]

[she nods] Makes sense--for some jobs, anyway. But that's not what I meant. What exactly does your agency do?

[because that's one thing the Doctor didn't tell her, though she might ask him if Narvin doesn't explain. and maybe even if he does]

[timesbureaucrat]

My agency is in charge of off-world security, thing like the enforcement of Time Lord law as it relates to issues of time travel.

And a few other things besides. [Like spying, weapons hording, and coverups. But "security" sounds so much better.]

[grip_on_reality]

[she raises an eyebrow, but obviously he doesn't mean to elaborate, so she doesn't push it. still, from that description, she has to wonder if Narvin knows anything about Charlotte Pollard. she's considering whether to ask--or whether that will just draw her into something she doesn't want to be in the middle of. for the moment, she leaves it]

[but it does explain one thing at least] No wonder the Doctor's not, ah, your favourite person. [there's amusement in her tone]

Any luck with that device?

[timesbureaucrat]

The Doctor is a criminal. [Narvin says bluntly.] I don't imagine you're terribly fond of your local pickpockets and vandals either.

[He pulls at a few more wires.]

It's almost ready.

[grip_on_reality]

[blandly] Oh, I don't know. Pickpockets who turn around and save the world aren't always so bad.

[because there is definitely a difference in her mind between those who commit some criminal acts and those who are legitimately evil. sometimes the two do go hand-in-hand, but other times they very much do not]

[she leans forward a little, genuinely curious] So what did he do to earn so much hatred from you, anyway?

[timesbureaucrat]

I wouldn't say I hate him. I simply think he's a reckless, arrogant rule-breaker who has been given too much leeway by the government because he has friends in high places. [And because he saves Gallifrey sometimes. But not in CIA-approved ways.]

I'll admit that he's not as evil or destructive as some renegades, but he's still broken our laws time and time again and should answer for it.

[grip_on_reality]

[she snorts] I see. [because she has a feeling that was a very honest description of the Doctor, at least as far as Narvin is concerned]

[she raises an eyebrow] So, what, does he get away with it because he stays out of your jurisdiction? Or what? [because she has a feeling it's either that or the "friends in high places" have pardoned him. but she wonders if it's the former because that might explain why he wanders so much, beyond just because he has the capability to do so]

[timesbureaucrat]

For the most part, yes. He was captured and punished once but that was centuries ago. Shortly before my time.

And then for a while we couldn't touch him because he was the Lord High President. [Narvin frowns at that memory. Gallifreyan politics is nothing but trouble.]

[grip_on_reality]

[she snorts when Narvin alludes to "centuries" being shortly before his time. leave it to a Time Lord to say something as incredible as that so casually, almost as an afterthought]

[but she's completely distracted by his next comment] He--what? He was your president? You can't be serious!

[timesbureaucrat]

I'm always serious, Detective Inspector. [He says with a very straight and serious face.]

The Doctor's presidency was certainly a joke, but not one of my making.

[grip_on_reality]

[she snorts] I'd say it was more likely of his making! What was that like, then?

[because she really can't imagine the Doctor in a position like that at all, so her interest is clear. and who knows, maybe it'll give her a few more things to tease him about later--particularly the next time he decides to be high-and-mighty about something]

[timesbureaucrat]

His presidency was exactly as one would expect from the Doctor. It largely consisted of him running away from his responsibilities and when he was present his orders were capricious and inexplicable more often than not.

Fortunately for everyone, including the Doctor, the High Council eventually came to their senses and impeached him.

[grip_on_reality]

They what? [she chuckles] You know, I've gotta admit, that really isn't surprising. So, what, they impeached 'im and happily sent 'im off on his way again?