It Takes Two To Tango (*FIN*)

[Rhona Jameson]

Rhona Jameson, head of public relations for the Aura Fiz Corporation, sat behind her desk in her upper floor office of the Aura Fiz compound. She was waiting. Doing paperwork, sure, but waiting nonetheless, fidgeting slightly as she read through documents and signed off at the bottoms.

She was waiting for two of her employees to show, and realized that she had no real right to be getting antsy just yet. They were due at 3:00, and her watch only read five 'till. The Atlanta sky outside her window was blue, the day had been quiet so far...at least on the surface.

Unfortunately, Aura Fiz went below the surface, and so did Rhona's job.

Rhona Jameson was supposed to make the company look good. Usually, it involved dazzling smiles, public speeches, and sit downs on talk shows. However, sometimes the threat to the company's face was a little more than just a few words. Sometimes it involved the company's best kept secrets. Its hidden agenda. The things that lurked beneath the surface...

This was one of those times.

A former, former meaning recently resigned, lab technician was threatening to let some of the things that she was paid, very well, to keep out into the public eye. A volatile situation, and one that she had tried to remedy by her own means, but the real problem in this situation was that the cad involved wasn't taking bribes.

She'd gotten permission from the top to use...less common means, and that meant meeting with the people she was meeting with today. People whom she could trust to make sure the lab tech didn't spill his guts to the press.

So, that morning, she'd sent all the pertinent information to them and told them to meet her here at three.

Finally figuring that they would be here any minute, she stood, straightening her deep purple, almost black, skirt, and adjusted her cream colored blouse, making sure she looked her most professional when her people got there. Not that she needed to, they were her underlings after all, but Rhona Jameson was nothing if not a people person, and looking her best was just what she did.

She sat back down and waited...

[Brian Sinclair]

He tried to seem nonchalant, but it was proving more difficult than he thought. Who could blame poor Brian, though? A familiarly uneasy feeling swelled inside him, even though the blame for such was hard to pinpoint, since Brian's stomach wasn't exactly the strongest in the first place. This whole ordeal went directly against his conscience, but it would be even worse if he tried to back off. A cushy job, normally free of emotional burden, was a good enough price to pay the rest of the time. Right...?

He sighed, walking down the hallway to Rhona Jameson's office, where he would be briefed on the exact reasons why he was summoned. Once again, for another time racked onto a handful of missions where his power, useful at the present, was forcibly recruited for questionable means. Miss Jameson certainly wasn't calling him in to get his autograph-- though admittedly, and despite its inherent lack of logic, it would be cool!

The nearest clock on the wall let him know he was right on time, which was fortunate considering the pace at which the large man in a black sport-coat, lightweight white sweater, and gray slacks, was moving. In no time at all would he reach the office, where the proberbial bomb would be dropped. Whatever Rhona would say, he thought as he stepped into the waiting room's doorway, he wasn't going to like it. Good thing he had nothing against the woman herself, or problems would grow threefold.

The secretary, apparently recognizing Brian, let him in with little more than generic words, that Rhona was inside her office and was eagerly waiting. He didn't anticipate that her secretary would say much, considering his arrival was expected, leading to a small surprise that she even spoke at all. Then, given ample license to stroll right in where he could plainly see the woman behind her desk, Brian did just so. "Good afternoon, Miss Jameson," he said with a smile, his eyes meeting her own, before scattering to seek out the nearest seat he could take for himself.

[Beatrice Stark]

///// Beatrice Stark

^{atlanta, georgia}
_{chapter one: obligations}

Beatrice wasn't one to be late. In fact, she prided herself on punctuality. Professionalism had become one of the cornerstones of her everyday life, as of leaving the home of her mother, and her life within AuraFiz had been one she'd embraced with open arms. She had been there for the company any time they had needed her, and yet today...

"Four minutes late..." she grumbled.

This wasn't just four minutes, of course. There were deeper reasons for her immeasurable exasperation. Beatrice Helen Stark was four minutes late to a meeting with the head public representative of AuraFiz. That's one important woman. One important woman who'd be kept waiting by Beatrice, a 'promising' troubleshooter who had... let's be honest-- a lot to lose.

Pushing the '9' on the elevator, Beatrice forced a deep breath. Hey, by the time she got to Jameson's office, she'd be six minutes late. From what she had heard, Jameson wasn't exactly Sgt. Slaughter. She'd be okay with it, especially when Beatrice explained the reasons why. The reasons being truly and completely out of her control.

Again, Beatrice prided herself on her punctuality...

Several moments later, she made her nonchalant entrance into Rhona's office, and nodded tentatively to Brian, some guy whom she did not know in the least, and then to Rhona, apologetically: "Sorry, Ms. Jameson. I came as fast as I could..." she hesitated.

"The Chinese takeout place I usually go to... crowded as hell today. I had to wait fifteen minutes for egg drop soup." she sighed and took her seat.

"Fucking ghastly..." she sighed quietly to herself. Her agitation at the matter, namely at her being late, was obvious enough.

[Rhona Jameson]

Rhona smiled at Brian as he entered, gesturing at a seat in front of her desk for him to take.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sinclair. Can I offer you something? Water? Tea?" It was all sitting on the sideboard--one of the many perks of her job.

A moment later, the other person she had been waiting for entered. Now that Brian and Bea were here, this meeting could begin in earnest.

"Ms. Stark," she said by way of greeting, nodding in sympathy at her story about why she was late.

Once her two enforcers were settled in, Rhona took a breath and walked around her desk, then sat on the edge, crossing her legs and picking up a file from behind her. She paused, opened the file, and pulled out a photograph, displaying it to Brian and Bea.

"This is Arnold Matthews. Until two days ago, he was a lab technician in one of our labs. As of yesterday, we haven't been able to find him, save for a phone call from him. He gave us an ultimatum: close the company, or he'd go public with some very sensitive information."

She glanced from Bea to Brian and back again. This was asking much of them, and she knew it.

"As you can well guess, we simply cannot give in to his demands, but we cannot let the information that he has go to the press. We have tried to pursue alternate methods of reconciling this situation, and he has rejected them all offhand. That is why the two of you have been called in. We have an address that we have reason to believe he is staying at, and I want the two of you to go and explain the situation to Mr. Matthews."

Her pause to let her words sink in conveyes the weight of the "explanation" she was wanting them to give.

"Get the information from him any way you can. Do not allow anyone else to know about this situation. The mission is to minimize damage, and cover our tracks. Any questions?"

[Beatrice Stark]

///// Beatrice Stark

^{atlanta, georgia}
_{chapter one: obligations}

Beatrice seemed flat and emotionless as she listened to their briefing. She seemed to ignore Brian for the time being, focused on the information being provided for the task at hand, which from the sound of it, was a very important one. With a calm, even nod, she sat back in her chair, inhaled slowly, then burst into a chuckle and rolled her eyes back, shaking her head.

"This guy can't be serious... does he think the company will just vanish overnight? Maybe he doesn't know as much as he claims he does..." she seemed amused at the thought. She was soon done laughing though, as she took the available photo and leaned back in her chair, studying the face of the latest threat to AuraFiz.

"We'll have to start by finding out what he knows. There's a good chance he isn't as much of a threat as he wants us to think he is, but maybe that's just a hunch--" she cut her eyes briefly up to Rhona, "Don't worry, Ms. Jameson, I won't act on any assumptions. We'll play it safe, and..."

She turned to Brian and looked him over, sizing him up, "Are we being assigned as partners, or is this temporary?" she asked with a tone of voice that suggested she wasn't bothered either way. Whatever was needed of her, she would comply as efficiently as possible. She worked well alone, and liked doing it, but it would be far from the first time she had trained someone, if that were the case.

On that note, she set reservations aside and leaned forward in her chair, extending her hand, "Sinclair? You don't have to call me Stark or even Beatrice. Bea will be just fine." she offered.

[Brian Sinclair]

What a doozy...

While Brian couldn't say he had any questions, since Rhona covered pretty much all the bases during her briefing, he tried to think over how this could possibly be justified. Anything to ease up on his feelings, just so he wouldn't get the impression that they were bullying some helpless scientist. Judging by what Ms. Jameson said, though, maybe it wouldn't amount to that. Who knew?

Rubbing his brow, Brian leaned back in his seat, listening to Bea and observing the photograph the Rhona showed them. Really, if the man had pilfered those files, it added a new spin to the whole mission and the company would be taking back what belonged to them-- Brian supposed that was noble enough not to break his moral compass.

Instead of worrying, Brian felt safe sliding himself and his train of thought back into the picture. He could rightly contribute by raising his eyebrows in curiosity while looking to Ms. Jameson when partnership was mentioned, wondering just how far the company would involve him in their schemes. He was an actor above all, but could he ever return to that? Seeing himself endorse soft drinks really did burden him with conflicting messages.

Mentally present when Bea made her introduction, Brian shook her hand and smiled, taking care not to show much doubt or regret. "Brian," he affirmed her question about names, speaking on calm and friendly terms. "You can just call me Brian, Bea."

[Rhona Jameson]

Rhona smiled matriachally as they introduced themselves, standing and moving behind the desk as she did so. Seating herself, she pulled out two file folders, and pushed them across the desk to Brian and Bea with a well manicured hand.

"As to the two of you being permanently partnered, consider this job a test drive of sorts. You two were matched up, and based on how well you work together, and how well you enjoy working with each other, we'll consider making your partnership permanent."

She smiled benevolently, tapping the folders with her index finger, then sitting back in her chair, clasping her hands and resting them on the edge of her desk.

"In those files, you will find a complete psychological profile of Dr. Matthews, his current address, the addresses of several of his known associates to which he might turn to, and any threats that he might pose to you."

She looked at them, suddenly more earnest, as if imparting serious information.

"Be warned, Dr. Matthews has an ability too. Unfortunately, it hasn't manifested yet, so we can't give you the heads up. It may not even factor into the mission, but be warned. This is why we're not sending the usual people to take care of this. We believe that you two are more...qualified to handle this situation."

[Beatrice Stark]

///// Beatrice Stark

^{atlanta, georgia}
_{chapter one: obligations}

Beatrice took the fines with a solid nod. She seemed pretty surefire before, but now she wore a stone-solid confidence. This was all they needed to succeed without a hitch. "Thank you, Ms. Jameson..." she replied, "This is all we need."

She didn't so much as glance toward Brian as she began to thumb through the files, "So we'll take a look at all of this, piece it all together and deal with the problem. You'll hear from us just as soon as it's all taken care of." she assured, but by the way she held the files on her own, in a neat little stack in her lap, one would wonder if she was content to be the 'brains' of the job.

Perhaps it looked as though she wasn't going to consult her partner, but in truth, Beatrice had trained and worked with many partners. She had become adaptive, responsive to their impulses, their initiatives. If Brian felt he had any important insights to offer in looking through the folders, he'd make the initiative.

"Is that everything, Ms. Jameson, or should we be off in handling this? Seems like it needs to be addressed on the A.S.A.P." she sounded out, looking up to Jameson with a calm, rather peaceful smile on her lips.

[Brian Sinclair]

Brian thumbed through his folder immediately after it was provided to him, following Rhona's debriefing so closely that it was almost like she gave a running commentary on what he saw before him. It was all there in front of him-- the man's picture, as well as the proper records-- so there was no doubt in Brian's mind that they would be set for the mission to some extent. Now that they had information, they had to put it to use, of course.

Then would come another take on the situation, where they would have to put forth effort into teamwork. Brian fancied himself a good team player, if not exceptionally so considering his background in the theatrical arts provided him with plenty of experience with choreography and such. As a people person and a thespian, it was like second nature for Brian to get along with people and work well alongside them-- but this time, it would be slightly different. Much more dangerous, too.

...If only there wasn't that barrier of gloom and uncertainty that prevented him from turning them down and bowing back gracefully. Would he lose his job if, at that time, he hadn't folded to his own hardships in saying 'no'? He had no idea. He'd have to know eventually, though, if he ever decided his conscience was too much of a roadblock. It would have been nice to know if he could disagree or not, without dire effects ensuing.

As for Miss Stark, well...he definitely didn't know her motus operandi, but...he'd like to find out. Then, after educating himself, he could devise the best plan, he thought. Would she expect him to take the lead, though? It was hard to tell, but since she had more (and likely better) experience, he would pass her the baton, so to speak. "Well," he looked at the folders again, flipping open the initial page, "Why don't you tell me what you think first, Bea? You're the expert..."

[Rhona Jameson]

Rhona couldn't quite put her finger on why, but she thought that Brian might be having second thoughts about his loyalties. However, she'd only read that in his tone and body language for the briefest of moments, and she'd been wrong before. It worried her, but he was with Bea, and Rhona trusted Ms. Stark to handle the situation if one arose. Anyways, Brian's track record so far and his personality and psychiatric profiles indicated that he wouldn't cause trouble and would go along with the mission.

”You can discuss a game plan on the way,” she replied, partially in response to Bea's question and partially in response to Brian's question to Bea. ”My secretary has keys to a vehicle, and I'd like to be notified of your progress if any hitches occur. She'll provide you with the number at which to contact me.”

Her body language made it clear that this discussion was over. The job couldn't be compromised by wasting time, and she was eager to get it over with.

---

After they had left, Rhona walked over to her window, staring out at the city with her hands clasped behind her back. There were times she missed field work, and this was one of those times—not necessarily because this was they type of job he liked, but because she very desperately needed this job done correctly.

Her secretary poked her head in the door. ”Ms. Jameson, there's a call for you on line one.”

”Thank you, Anne,” Rhona said, returning to her desk and picking up her phone. ”Hello.”

She paused as the person on the other end talked; whatever was left of any sort of high spirits draining from her and getting replaced with pure business.

”They're on there way right now...thank you, sir...yes, I selected them myself...yes, they are competent...I'll let you know the second I hear anything...I understand.”

After another pause, she hung up the phone, readjusted her blouse, and took a sip of the water that was sitting on her desk. There was a rabbit hole here, and she was hoping that she could block it up before anyone jumped down it.