Logfile from Brass&Steel. On this nice and sunny day, Zach has managed to wrangle a swap in call duty for car rescues. Enjoying his day off, he comes sauntering along looking happy and content. Hands in his pockets, he whistles a catchy tune. Sarah drinks her coffe and sighs, shaking her head over something in the paper. As he nears Sarah's bench, he notices her and the merry whistling faulters. A slight shadow passes over his face, and he adjusts his course to go over and talk to her. Stopping right in front of her, he smiles and greets her: "Hey, beautiful. Whatcha got cooking?" You paged Fidelity with 'Has there been any actual reports of actual people actually having caught these diseases/infections?'. Sarah looks up, startled and then smiles "Oh! Zach "Hey there. Just reading the paper." She sighs "Can't they make up their mind what's going on with Sweet Delights?" Fidelity pages: So far, no. Fidelity pages: At least, none that have been reported *since* the raid. Zach casts a glance at the paper she's holding and sits down next to her. "Yeah, I know. That case is just bizarre. And I haven't seen one single report about people actually being ill with those diseases." Sarah nods "I haven't eather wierd. It's like they're trying to freak people out or something? You paged Fidelity with 'How about the reason behind the raid? Have there been released any reason or triggering reason for such a big raid by the feds and the rest of the ballet?'. Fidelity pages: It is an 'ongoing investigation'. Fidelity pages: so they do not discuss it, but the media is speculating in a frenzy. Zach hehs. "Well the media is certainly having a field day. Not to mention the health freaks." Sarah drinks the last of the coffee and eyes the police cordian around the weet shop "Oh yeah, I'm sure people are just thrilled about this. WHat do you think is keeping the heath officals from relasing the info." Zach shakes his head and stratches his legs out in front of him. "I don't know. I really don't know." Sarah taps her fingers on the paper "I wonder if we could find out." Zach tilts his head. "How were you planning to do that? Bribe the feds with leathergear?" He grins teasingly. "I guess I could cook something..." Sarah is tall for a woman at 5'10". Much of this height comes from her long shapely legs which are, like the rest of her skin, a dusky brown -- the color of coffee with cream. She is slender but muscled, giving proof that she works out. Her curly black hair just brushes her shoulders and frames a lovely oval face with warm brown eyes and lush red lips Today she is dressed in tight black leather pants that cling to her legs and rear like a second skin. Over it she wears a tight sleeveless red shirt, it's neckline swooping low enough to show off the top of her breasts. The shirt is pulled in even tighter with a black leather belt that wraps around her waist. On her feet at low heeled black leather boots. Sarah laughs "Someone, feds and leather just don't go together...well unless your doing the whole YMCA thing I suppose." I washting that maybe we could sneak in there or something." Zach fakes a look of shock and outrage. With a mock glare he scolds: "Sarah Roberts! I am shocked! I never had you pegged for a simple burglar! Really!" Sarah gives him big eyes "No no, I wouldn't rub the place, heaven's no. I just want to takea look around." You say, "Oh. Well that's allright, then." Zach deadpans. Sarah grins "Aww, come on it would be fun." Zach laughs. "Sure it would. Say, were you here when the whole thing went down? What actually happened?" Sarah nods "Well I came in when they were hauling the owers or maybe the cooks, well someone people out and arresting them and they had Hazmat people all suited up and brings stuff out." Zach thinks for a bit. "Hazmat in suits. Thats strange too. The bacterias and parasites aren't that dangerous. If the food is properly cooked they are destroyed." Sarah nods "I saw then shoving food in bags, thinks like meat pies and stuff." Alreadty cooked stuff." Zach shifts and crosses his legs. "And you want to break into a place where Hazmat and FEMA were crawling all over in protective gear...? Not to mention the ambulances they brought?" He smiles. Sarah shrugs "They we're probably just taking percausions. I'd be find as long as I don't eat anything." Zach chuckles. "You sure you can resist the chokolate?" Sarah nods "Yep, I'm fairly strong willed." She smiles pleasently." One of Zach's eyebrow's quirks and he smiles faintly. "I don't doubt it." Sarah grins at him "So? Up for a bit of fun. I wonder if the place has a backdoor." Zach looks at her and tries to take her measure. "You're really serious, aren't you?" Sarah shrugs "Calls me a bit worried about the matter. I do havve to work a few doors down you know." Zach sighs and reaches out to gently caress her cheek. "I'm not sure if I can help you Sarah... I'm really not sure. I'd like to, though.." Sarah smiles at he touch, although it does not seemt o reach her eyes "Really? Then come help me figure out what's going on." Zach considers this. "I heard something about some woman giving a speech outside during the raid. Did she say anything useful?" Sarah shakes her head "naaha, it was all politico talk. You say, "Election propaganda?" Goldie arrives along Oak, and makes her way into the Crown Center. Sarah shakes her head "Naah, just a lot of talking without saying much of anything." As the conversations continue, a crowd of everyday folk start meandering down the row of shops. Many are carrying signs. Goldie walks down the street, appearing more gaunt than normal which is quite something. In the ebbing lunch crowd she seems more than a little edgy, as though trying to watch everyone about her at once while not being obvious about it. Sarah folds her paper up and starts to stand. Then she spots the signs "Hmmm...I wonder what this is." Zach looks up and follow Sarah's gaze with his eyes. "Yeah, that look interesting. Let's have a look, shall we?" Sarah stands up and starts sauntering over towards the people, trying to read their signs. Zach follows Sarah over to gawk. By this time, the buncha folks are gathering near the Sweet Delights. Their signs are the usual ones to be seen when folks feel their government is covering something up -- signs demanding more access, more answers, more information. THey seem prepared to set up right along the police cordon. Goldie pauses by a store front, leaning her head against the glass tiredly and staring at the display on te other side. The protester's presense seems not to have registered on her yet, their complaints and sounds disregarded as that of the normal crowd. Sarah lets her eyes roam thoughtful over the signs and then she spots Goldie and nudges Zaxh "Hey, it's Goldie." Zach hmm? "Oh. Yeah, it is. God, she looks awful poor kid.." Sarah nods "Hmm? Oh, yes she does. I wonder what;s bothering her. Still Sarah seems more intrested in the protestors then Goldie. She glances over at the cops to see how they are reacting." Goldie finally pushes herself away from the glass as one of the staff on the other side taps angrily on the window. It seems that they are unconvinced that she might be planning to buy one of the tuxedo's shown in the display and Goldie simply moves off rather than stubbornly remain where she was. The protestors seem very well organized, and trained in what *not* to do. Since none cross the cordon, the police simply watch, some more bored about it than others. The crowd paces back and forth, chanting catchy slogans about less secrecy, more information. Ada arrives along Oak, and makes her way into the Crown Center. Sarah looks slightly disapointed that the protestors are so calm. She glances over at Zach and pats him gently on the shoulder "Why don't you see what's bothering that poor girl." Brooke arrives along Oak, and makes her way into the Crown Center. Ada leans up against a lamppost and watches the protesters. Sarah starts wandering towards the protesters The protestors rant and shout about 'transparency' in government, specifically demanding answers on this latest public scare, but clearly they know where they can leave off. Though they get right up to the edge of the cordon, not a single one crosses the line. Zach ambles over to the protesters instead, and starts chatting them up. "What do you mean 'transparency'? What's that all about?" he asks curiously. Goldie stays on the opposite side of the street from the protest, finding a patch of wall between two stores and leaning against it as she looks over towards the placard bearers. A faintly bemused or perhaps amused expression flits across her face as she looks at them. One guy pipes up to Zach, "This is just another attempt to jump on the terrorism bandwagon, man! One little bakery undercooks some meat patties and it's a federal issue that requires us giving more power to the executive branch? *Hell*, no!" Ada says, "A Federal issue? I must have missed that." Zach wrinkles his forehead. "So you think it's a political thing? That they are overreacting deliberately?" Sarah moves away from Ada and Zach down the line untill she reaches almost the end of the group of people. Ada is about 5 feet, 8 inches tall, with hair dyed all the colors of the rainbow that hangs to her shoulders, and blue eyes. She looks to be in her late teens or early twenties; her body is slender without being skinny, her curves understated, her fingers long and tapered. Her skin is pale, her lips a light pink, and her nose curves upward ever so slightly. She's wearing a huge light-blue button-up shirt that comes down to her thighs, with the sleeves rolled up, and matching slippers. Her hair is slightly mussed. Ada just looked at you. The guy talking to Zach says "Of course! Man, we got people starving in the streets, we got companies doing shit nobody dares call shenanigans on. Why? Because they're suddenly 'aiding the terrorists'! No, this ain't right. If these folks that worked for this place were doing something unsafe, I wanna know about it, sure. But was a task force and federal marshals and EPA investigators .... was that all *really* necessary?" Sarah glances over at Zach and then leans in a says something softly to the protester. Brooke is just heading to her hotel, but she of course is sidetracked by the going-on's of the protesters. She pauses near a bench and plops down to watch. Goldie stiffles a small yawn, the gesture perhaps not merely due to tiredness but something more pointed in the direction of the protesters. Zach nods. "I'm kinda inclined to agree, bud. They should have made some statement by now that actually make sense. So far there's been precious little of that.." Toland arrives along Oak, and makes its way into the Crown Center. The protestors continue marching in their crowded little cluster near the police cordon. The cops continue to look at best mildly interested, since none of the protestors try to move past the cordon keeping Sweet Delights off limits. Sweet Delights, nothing like a little coffee before- oh well. Mr. Morris, trenchcoat weaving like slithering snakes of impending doom and death walks along the sidewalk. Close proximate to the very outside of the little mob around the shop, Morris pauses. One calloused hand rubs his jaw, still just a little achey from eating metal the previous night. Time to do what he does best. Try to live another five minutes or so. Zach thinks for a bit, then asks his new, protesting friend: "So how do you figure the deputy director of FEMA fits in this thing? I heard there was some lady doing a speech about him outside here when the raid went down." The guy talking to Zach says, "That's wha I'm saying, man? Either tell us why a local matter deserves federal attention or stop with the cloak and dagger stuff! That's why we're waving these signs, get it?" Harriet arrives along Oak, and makes her way into the Crown Center. Zach nods. "Yeah, sure." He puts on a look of 'not all too bright but trying to get it and definitely in favour of less secrets but ultimately just this dude'. This doesn't come very hard to him... Time to get into the middle of some of this mess. Looks like there some basic sign of urgent protest laying on the ground, which the ever dangerous Mr. Morris picks up. He starts to wave it around and join into the rioting! He starts to yell whatever chant everybody else is yelling. He'd go jump off a bridge if enough people were doing it. If at least five can do it, hell, it must be fun. The protestors continue to march, then, for a little while longer before a big wheeled frame with a camera setup is wheeled in from one of the Center's side entrances. Oh, look, the newsmedia have arrived. Harriet walks into view, not paying much attention to anything until she catches sight of the protestors. She stops, then changes her route to the other side of the area. Toland Morris, gentleman, danger-seeker, politician, rioter, waves his sign around. He bangs it off of other people's signs, trying to stir a little more frenzy into the mess. "Watch who you're pushing!" he yells at some lady. "Get outta the way!" he screams in some other guy's ear. "Let's show these people we really, REALLY mean business!" Down with The Man! One protestor glares at Morris. "Hey, man, you know the rules, cut it the fuck out!" Sarah steps back away from the protestors and watches for a few minutes before turns and melts into the small afternoon crowd that has gathered to watch the protestors and hopefuly get on the nightly news. Zach has stepped back a coupla paces and watches the spectacle with some bemusement. Isn't that the dude from two nights ago? The crazy bozo with the trenchcoat and lousy social intelligence? He watches Trenchcoat's antics carefully. Ada wanders toward Zach, Zach spots Ada. "Oh! Hey, hon." He holds out an arm for her.'. Mr. Morris, definately looking to escalate this to the next level, takes his cue. Sure, it might be really painful, but that's love and rioting. "No, I don't know the rules!" he yells back at the man, wheeling his sign like an axe and holding it over his head. "Is this in your Rioteer's Rulebook?" he asks moments before bringing his sign down on the man's head. Harriet catches sight of Zach while skirting the area, and walks up to meethim. "What on earth is going on, here?" Ada walks more quickly, taking Zach's hand and pulling up beside him. Goldie looks up as the media arrives, looking at them for a few moment with a growing frown then staightening from where she was leaning against a wall. Moving at a normal pace, she walks around so that she would no longer be visible if the camera crew started making 'how this protest is developing' shots. The man rebuking Morris, taken totally by surprise, does not react for a moment. Another man does, though, reaching out to interpose himself. "What is your malfunction, jerk?" some girl among the protestors demands. "This is a protest, not a freakin' riot, you some kinda narc?" Zach scoops Ada up with his arm and kises her on the head. "Hey, sweet." As Harriet walks up, he smiles to her: "Hello Harriet! Nice to see you.. You know, I'm really not sure. These guys are peaceful protesters, but now this trenchcoat dude is making a nisance of himself. Again.." Sarah returns from whereever she was and spots and blinks at the protest as it suddenly turns violant. She watches for a minute and then walks back over t Zach, seeing that both Harriet and Ada have attactched themself to him "What happened?" The crowd's getting louder, and those business cards are burning a hole in Brooke's pocket. Brooke finally gets up from the bench, stretches lazily and then wanders towards the crowd. She pauses a moment besides some girl with rainbow hair. Looking up through silver rims, Brooke starts to address Ada, but then her attention is turned to the Morris guy. "Stupid people," she mutters. Zach shrugs and shakes his head. "Dude just waded in, grabbed a sign and started yelling and whacking." Harriet smiles back, then turns to look at the disturbance. "Good heavens," she mutters. "He's not big on the survival instinct thing, you know?" Seeing Sarah, she smiles and waves. Sarah blinks at Morris "Huh, wierd." She smiles at Harriet "Good afternoon." "I'm from Arizona." Mr. Morris replies, dropping keeping one hand on his sign before walking away back out of the crowd. "In Arizona, when we don't agree with something, we get to the bottom of it. You go on, keep protesting. See how far that gets you." He pauses at the edge of the people and wheels around, his trenchcoat, as if in slow motion around his legs, coiling. He jerks one finger towards the group, "Why don'cha go find a Starbucks. You think the world is going to stop and look at a bunch of fools waving signs in front of a coffee shop?" He glances to his left at the news van. Then back to the crowd. "You might make the news here in Kansas City, but that's about it." Yeah. Something like that. He keeps his sign as a keepsake. It'll look good hanging over the mantle someday. He turns and walks towards some of the people who are just watching the protest from afar. Zach turns his head slightly and notices Brooke. He gives Ada a squeeze, then says to Brooke: "Hello there ma'am. You're the lawyer that were present when the Trenchcoat over there got shot, right?" Sarah listens to the man's rantings and shakes her head "What's he on about now. Why was heprotesting and now's he backing out." At that point, the situation somewhat defused, a few people still yelling after Morris for his behavior, the reporters setting up their camera feeds look somewhat disappointed. But the protest resumes, and against the backdrop of folks shouting their slogans demanding their information before the cameras, a few equally curious souls debate the question as to what exactly is going on here... Harriet looks to Sarah, and jerks her head towards the protestors. "I hope this whole mess hasn't been too bad for business?" She shakes her head. "I don't know what they're doing...the shop's closed." From afar, to (Zach, Sarah): Fidelity splits for shower and work. Sarah shrugs at Harriet "Just want some attention I suppos Brooke leans up on her tippy toes to watch as the violence unfolds, but gets frustrated as her vision is blocked by some tall guy with a news camera. She sighs and starts to walk around, but stops at Zach's voice. "Yessir," she replies in that thick southern drawl. "Matter of fact I was. Think the guy would've learned, but he sure seems to enjoy looking for trouble." She shrugs some glancing at the others around Zach, and then offers him a dainty hand and a pleasant smile, "Brooke Bradford. It's a pleasure to meet ya." Sarah smiles at Brooke "Nice to meet you miss. I'm Sarah Roberts." Ada shakes her head. "I've met people like that. Ada Lovelace, it's a pleasure." Zach shakes hand with Brooke. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I'm Zach Ellis. How d'you do?" Harriet tilts her head. "I think I saw you a couple of days ago, but we weren't introduced. I'm sorry." She smiles. "Harriet Davis. It's a pleasure." As it just so happens, a safe distance appears to be right around Sarah and Harriet. He even gets up a real nice, candid looking smile. The kind that just sort of tips one lip higher than the other, with a leftward tilt of the head and a glint in one eye. "What brings so many onlookers to this little parade? What's the big deal? Ain't you people never saw a little bit of sign waving and cat calling and the usual assortment of candy coated police?" That's of course, to anybody in the vicinity of Harriet and Sarah. Sarah turns to look at Morris "Well I for sone own a sstore in the area so of course I want to see what's going on. You protestors are driving off business." Goldie takes a seat on a bench a fair distance away from the commotion and crowd about it, perching on the edge of a bench and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Idly, she starts to look over the crowd for any sign of familiar faces. Harriet looks at Toland, obviously trying hard to muster up her normal cheerfulness towards new people. She fails, and her expression is stern as she says, "You hit that man with your sign." "Zach, Sarah, Ada, and Harriet," Brooke smiles, as she repeats the names...more to herself than anyone else. "It's certainly a pleasure." She turns to Harriet, "Yes, I believe we /have/ crossed paths." Wasn't she the girl with the Professor? Her attentions are broken as she turns to Morris and takes a half step back. "Mr. Morris..." Another courtesy smile. "Enjoying yourself today?" Dull eyes look Sarah over. "You own a business? Today must be your day off." Mr. Morris says dryly, noting her very conservative garb. To Harriet, he gives a little bit of a smile. "You saw that too, huh? This must be the most passive protest I ever saw. Even the police didn't seem to care about me beating up the protestors. Kinda makes you wonder who's side is the side to be on. You with the protestors, or you with the police. Me, I just like to get involved with people. I like civic duty. Jury duty. Health inspections. That kinda thing." He smiles ever so slightly, and hefts the sign over his shoulder like a heavy club. "By the way, I'm Morris. It's nice to meet you." Talking, of course, to Harriet. But he pauses before he can fully make any decent introductions, to Brooke. "After I got out of the hospital, I felt great. Now that I've participated in a public event, I'm feeling like a regular old Kansas City citizen. How about you?" Sarah laughs softly "Well no, I just happen to own a leather store, wny mot show of my goods when I have a chance." Toland Morris: A rather average sized man, standing at 6 feet 1 inch. Grey eyes haze over what must be a constant 8 o'clock shadow. Rugged, definitely fit for the very concept. His rather rugged appearance is only offset by a seemingly calm look he always has on him. His hair is black, matted down with an eternal non-combed or brushed look, though it is usually pretty clean. He wears the clothes of the trade. A black leather trenchcoat which is pleasantly ankle-length. Heavy black boots are laced tightly up to about mid-lower leg, with a poof of blue jeans haphazardly patchworked and tucked into them. He wears a red shirt, probably because red happens to match any blood that might get splattered up against him. What luck! Heavy eyes glance to the right. Mr. Morris spies Sarah laughing. "Oh. I see." Well. In that case. "Looks like you have a fine selection there. Got anything in my size?" He pluks the seams of his well used leather trenchcoat like he's a fashion star. "Before I forget to ask, who're you?" "I'm working on it," Brooke says to Morris with a little smirk. "I was wondering if you were over there just trying to get me some business or something." The attorney motions towards Morris' latest victim. "Personal injury isn't my speciality, but I could handle it." She winks then, and looks to Sarah, "I loved your store, by the way. Was in there the other day." Harriet eyes the sign warily. "Nice to meet you, Morris," she echoes, not sounding terribly sincere. She smiles to make up for it. Sarah runs her eyes over the old trenchcoast "Yes, I belive we have something in your size. I'm Sarah Roberts. I own Crowne Royale Leathergoods." Goldie finally catches sight of Zach in the midst of the crowd and pales slightly. Standing up, she begins heading off away from him at a pace significantly faster than a swift walk but still slightly less than a run. Zach listens to the banter being tossed about. His eyes twinkle a bit in humorous disbelief. Man this dude is something else. "So civic duty includes bonking demonstrators on the head? Why attack the protesters if you agree with the protest. Morris?" With Brooke making her classic references, Mr. Morris tosses the sign to Harriet. "There ya go, doll. Looks like you wanted the thing. You don't have to thank me for it. I'll just go brain somebody else for theirs. You know my kind of guy. Like to beat people up and all." Yeah, right. "I don't think I got your name." he says to Harriet, before addressing Brooke. "Actually I was thought it was a protest for minks. Gotta love them minks. I figured you'd be all packed up by now, Miss Brooke, what with all the people falling ill." Finally, to round it all off, he smiles at Sarah. "I think you and me will have a date sometime. I could use some new threads that don't look like they just came from the firey pits of hell. You're very stylish, too." Brave, too. And another joins in the Attack of the Toland Morris. "I don't believe we've met." he says to Zach. "My kind of civic duty involves saving people. If that store is killing people, who the hell are the police to stop the protesters? You make people sick, possibly fatally, what kind of rights should you have? Might not be the store owners, but their store sure as hell can kiss the ass of society good bye." Goldie heads North on Oak. Zach smiles to Morris. "Those cops are armed in case you haven't noticed. If the demonstrators did the mob thing and rushed them, then some of 'em might get leadpoisoning. I know you're know that ain't half fun. I'm Zach Ellis and it's...interesting to make your aquaintance." Sarah looks down at her watch and nods at Toland "Well I lok forward to seeing you around my shop, but in the meantime I should head back." Sarah waves and needs to take off "This guy must give you tons of business," Mr. Morris says to Sarah, tossing a thumb towards Zach. "See ya around." he finishes with her, then looks at Zach again. "Oh, don't worry Captain Obvious, I noticed that. So, Mr. Ellis, since we've obviously agreed that you are not only a wonder of fashion, but also an amazing detective, what can I do for you?" Zach hugs. Bye, thanks for the rp! :) Toland says, "See you later. It was fun. ;)" Harriet leaps back, not even attempting to catch the sign as it clatters to the ground. She looks at Morris in disbelief. "I didn't want the sign," she says, "I was just hoping you weren't going to hit me with it." She shakes her head. "You, sir, are a menace." Sarah steps into Crown Royale Leatherwear. Brooke has taken to passively listening to the conversation. She too steps back as the sign falls to the ground and then kicks it to the side with her shoe before stepping back into the group. She casts a polite wave towards Sarah and then looks to Zach. "So, what do you make of it, Mr. Ellis?" Brooke asks, arching a brow. Morris has certainly made his opinion loud and clear. A manace? Did she just sa- Mr. Morris smiles towards Harriet. "Me? A menace? What do you consider a meanace, a government who supports acts of terrorism? A city council who helps to protect the right to kill people with potential biological wweapons? A store who possibly is in league with some sort of cult who is out to kill in mass waves? Or a guy who hits somebody with a cardboard sign? You got to blink those dazed eyes of yours and ask yourself, 'Could I be next?' Tomorrow you could wake up vomitting up your intestines because somebody in this city is out to kill you because, well," he shrugs his shoulders, "just because you're here. Yeah, you're right. I am a menace." Ada leans against Zach, not contributing but not missing a beat either. Zach chuckles at Trenchcoat's endless barrage of needles, his green eyes aglitter. He's about to answer Morris but when Brooke pipes in, well... Beauty before Trenchcoats. "Everything's politics. They are hiding something and it's about time they tell us what it is." Brooke turns that arched brow towards Morris as he goes on and on...and on. A smirk plays across her lips as she tucks a curl behind her ear. Blue eyes turn back up to Zach and Brooke nods, agreeably. "I suppose you're right, there." The woman then takes a quick peek at her watch and shifts her weight some, crowd watching again... "Hiding something?" Mr. Morris says, looking back to Zach. He motions with a hand towards Ada, "You've got something stuck to your jacket, Mr. Ellis. For a man of your obvious stature with uncovering things, I can't quite see how you've come to the understanding that something is being hidden. I think it might be more important to find out who is hiding something instead of finding out what is being hidden. Let's say they're hiding some sort of chemical weapon. What'cha gonna do then with that knowledge? Not a goddam thing." He holds up his hand, and grins just a little. "I think I like you, Mr. Ellis. You have that deer caught in the headlights kind of innocence about you. But tell me, because I really want to know, what do you think is being hidden? Who do you think is behind it?" Harriet glares at Morris. "Of course, I don't have any evidence for any of those things /except/ your propensity for violence with signs, you know. And do you think it would have been just the 'guilty' who suffered if you had succeeded in stirring those people up?" She crosses her arms over her chest. "It wouldn't have been. What about Sarah? You think it would have been just when her shop was looted? What about the innocent people who come here everyday, you know?" Does he have to spell everything out? Mr. Morris does so. He says to Harriet. "Think about it, doll. If there was say, a sudden riot. The police started shooting. People started running. Chaos started erupting. Could it be possible for say, somebody to get inside the store? Whatever is being guarded here is still in there. Or at least some clue. My goal, my dear, was to get inside the store. Even for an instant. Aren't you interested in knowing What Is Inside? And more importantly, Who Put It There? There's gotta be evidence in there. And we, the thronging populace, are unable to get to it. Ergo, we will never get to the bottom of this whole random death and illness situation." Zach turns back to Morris and considers his question. "I have no idea about what's being hidden. But Washington is always eager to scrouge up more monies for the military and the so-called war on terrorism. Scare people shitless here, there and all around to get more money for those efforts? Especially since the opinion has been changing lately?" Ada arches an eyebrow. "Yeah, because, y'know, God forbid the authorities get to do their jobs." "As far as I know there hasn't actually been any deaths or illnesses linked to this place so far," Zach points out to Toland. "Everything is a reason for funding." Mr. Morris says, in agreement with Zach. "Everything is something to hide. Especailly if you don't know what it is. Keep it to a minimum. People will only protest if there is a cop not letting them get to where they want to be, and soon leave. But tell them that a sniper is targetting one of their windows, and don't say which window, well, then you've got a full scale panic on your hands." "You'd endanger the lives of innocent people, simply to satisfy your curiosity?" Harriet asks, her voice flat with disbelief. "My god, you really are a menace. They should have kept you in the hospital for psychiatric evaluation." She shakes her head again, and stares at him with horror. Ada laughs quietly. "So are you done exaggerating the situation and putting words in people's mouths yet, Mr. Morris?" Mr. Morris looks towards Harriet, cracking his knuckles before slipping both hands into his pockets. "Listen doll, there's lots of people in the world. This is America. If you seriously think that somebody was going to be actually killed by an American officer with a gun, you're crazy. Hurt, yeah. Probably pretty hurt. Those rubber balls can really leave some stingings." He shrugs at Ada. "I don't think I know your name, sweetheart. You know what, you're right. I'm all done. Have a really great life." And with that, he smiles to Zach, Brooke, and then Harriet, before he turns and begins to walk away. The tail of his trenchcoat nip at the heels of his heavy boots. Zach nods to Morris. "Later, dude. I have a feeling we haven't heard the last of you in Kaycee..." Harriet shoves her hands into her pockets and continues to boggle at Morris' back. "He's certifiable," she says softly. Ada sighs and turns to Harriet and Brooke. "I'm sorry, I don't think we met properly. I'm Ada Lovelace." She smiles wryly. "A friend of Zach's." People watching does lose it's interest after awhile. Brooke snaps back to the conversation at hand and slides a hand into her backpocket. She turns to Morris as he says his good-bye's and smiles politely. "Have a good evening, Mr. Morris." And before she can turn back to the crowd, she reaches out and touches him on the shoulder. "Mr. Morris," she calls after him, "Here, take one of these," and she slides a business card into his hand, if he'll receive it. "You might need it." And she really could use the business... As he departs, Mr. Morris snaps the card away from Brooke. He walks away, and once at a safe, lengthy distance away, Morris turns, shrowded in the coming night and the mists from a nearby dranage grate. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it up, his face briefly lit by the sharp splash of orangey yellow. Eyes watch the crowd he just left casually, glancing towards the police, the news, and what's left of the protesters. He blows out a breath of smoke, which hangs in the air with the rest of the steam and smog from the grate. Then it is dragged away, as if wisped by an etheral claw, swiped away from his area with a cold sting and a raise of the hairs on the back of one's neck. He drops the cigarette before he finishes it, then turns around a corner and is gone. Brooke is dressed casual in a pair of faded blue jeans and a dark gray t-shirt, neatly tucked in. A lightweight white button up shirt, about 2 sizes two big finishes off the ensemble, and the sleeves are rolled just above her wrists. There sits a dainty silver watch. A pair of white leather tennis provide for comfortable walking to see the sights. Cast over her left shoulder is a black leather backpack. Harriet shakes her head once more in Morris' direction, then turns to Ada with a bright smile. "Harriet Davis. Pleased to meet you, you know?" Toland has disconnected. Brooke has disconnected. The current time in Kansas City is 3:32 PM, Wed Sep 25, 2002. Ada says, "It's a pleasure, Harriet. How did you and Zach meet?"" Zach ties Ada and Harriet firmly down to prevent escape! >:) Harriet eeks. "Not in front of the train, I hope." Zach says, "No. On my nice and comfy sofa. :)" Ada O_o Harriet hmms. "Sarah introduced us, if I remember correctly." She glances back at the protesters, a worried expression flitting across her face. Harriet raises an eyebrow. Ada shakes her head. "They'll be fine. If anything, they're less inclined to be violent now. Pretty soon they'll realize it's time for dinner and start heading home. Zach agrees with Ada. "That lot isn't about to get into trouble. They are to idealistic for that. They belive in Rules, even if everyone else, our leaders included, is braking 'em." Harriet nods. "I really hope so. I'd hate to see any more people get hurt over this mess than the poor souls who're in the hospital." She blinks. "Are there actually any cases that have been reported in the hospital? Or is it just 'on alert', you know?" Ada says, "I haven't heard anything, but that don't mean much." Zach shrugs and rubs Ada's back gently. "I've been scouring the papers and listening to radio and tv. I haven't found a single case of any actual poisonings, infections or illnesses tied to this case. So it's an alert, but so far it's smokesignals without flame." Harriet sighs and adjusts her glasses. "It's almost enough to make me buy a TV. Almost." She looks over at Ada in admiration. "I love your hair, by the way. It's beautiful." Ada smiles wryly. "Thanks. I wish I could say it was natural." Zach beams at Ada. "D'you know Harriet here is an artist." Harriet waves a hand idily in the air. "Natural is overrated. Making something beautiful is always better. But then, I'm biased, you know?" She grins at them both. "Hey, I was thinking about going to get something to eat, you know? Would y'all like to come along, or," she smiles, "would you prefer to be alone?" Ada says, "I could go for dinner. Zach?" Ada says, "No, I didn't know. What medium, Harriet?"" Zach beams even more. "Harriet, you're my kinda gal! I was just about to say the same. What say we nip over to BJ's for some ribs?" Harriet holds up her hands. "I mostly sculpt in plaster, although I do a little painting and a lot of sketching, too." She grins. "Actually, if I had the time, I'd do just about anything." Harriet rolls her eyes at Zach, and grins. "BJs sounds good to me." You say, "Allright! Let's go then." You head North on Oak. B.J.'s Lawnside B-B-Q -- Dining Room and Stage A raucous place, the temperature in here is hotter than it is outside, and even with the ventilation running, the firepits in the kitchen cause the smoke and humidity factor to shoot through the roof, such that the burly guys in stained aprons who stand behind the counter to take and fill orders are glazed in their own sweat, as if they themselves might be turned on a spit at any time. Despite this, they are remarkably friendly ... but then, if you got to spend your days serving some of the area's best BBQ to apprecative fans to the sounds of live or live-recorded blues music, you'd probably consider yourself to have a fairly decent job, too. The counter and semi-open kitchen and BBQ pits easily take up a third of the roadhouse; another third or so is the stage, occupied by old but still servicable electronics and the usual racks and floor stops for placing instruments. Four nights a week, live bands occupy this stage, and on a fifth, the electronics are supplemented by those from a local radio station for a blues-oriented radio show. Inside, the owners have opted for nothing more special than heavily-primed picnic tables. Pretty standard for a place they hose down at the end of the night. Usually occupied to at least 1/3 capacity, on nights with live bands this place is packed with locals and tourists alike. Zach looks around for a table, and spots one that's conveniently free. He leads the ladies over to table number 4 and gallantly holds out chairs. Ada sits down at Table 4. Harriet chuckles at Zach and takes the seat. She sniffs the air appreciatively. "Mmmm. Barbeque. Gotta love it." You sit down at Table 4. Zach grins. "Yeah. This is one of the very best 'cue joints in town. And the music here is superb." A waitress meanders through the crowd to bring menues to their table. Ada pages: Should one of us tell Harriet how to sit? :) You paged Harriet with 'To sit at the table, type 'sit at #4' :)'. You paged Ada with 'Just did:)'. Harriet nods. "It's been excellent every time I've been here." She looks over at Ada, smiling. "So, person that I've unfortunately not met before, tell me a little about yourself, please?" Harriet pages: Ah! I was wondering how you were doing that. Harriet joins you. Harriet sits down at Table 4. Ada says, "I'm a freelance programmer. Web design, C++, you name it. Anime freak, erstwhile clubber, electronics geek..." You paged Harriet with 'To see tables in a room, you can type 'places' :)'. Harriet pages: Mucho gracias, senior. :) You paged Harriet with 'You're very welcome:)'. Harriet looks impressed. "Really? Wow. I took a few computer classes in college, but never really had the talent for it. It must be a very interesting job, especially freelance." Ada grins. "Not as fascinating as sculpting, I'm sure. Harriet laughs. "I suppose it depends on where your interests lie, you know?" She picks up the menu and glances through it. "Mmmm, ribs..." Zach chuckles as he studies the menu. Peeking up from it, he suggests: "Well isn't programming like making art at its best?" Harriet closes the menu and sets it aside, her mind clearly made up. "I think anything that involves creating can be considered art, myself. It's all to the good, you know?" Zach nods in firm agreement. "Amen to that, sister. I love tinkering with engines, Ada loves tinkering with programs and you love tinkering with sculptures and paintings. It's all about being creative." Ada smiles wryly. "You flatter me." Ada says, "I just tell the bits where to go!" Zach grins. "Well yes. And I tell the cogs, nuts and bolts where to go. Harriet orders paint and plaster around. It's the same thing." Harriet snickers. "That describes most of creation, if you ask me. Whether the bits are oil and gas, eyesight, or," she pauses, "whatever goes into computer programs." She blinks, and mock glares at Zach. "Or, what he said." Their waitress comes bustling by to take their orders, only stopping to glare at a dishevelled guy who just tried to touch her behind. All efficiency and pleasant professionality, she whips out a notebook and waits to hear their choices of dinner. Zach grins. "Seems we couldn't be in more agreement." He smiles up to the waitress and tells her that spare ribs with salsa sauce a side salad would make him a happy man today. As if he wasn't happy already. Ada considers. "Sloppy Joe, side of fries, and the biggest thing of tonic water I can get." Harriet chuckles. "Great minds, I guess." She looks up at the waitress and orders a plate of ribs, extra hot, with fries and a large coke. "This is going to be great," she sighs, "I haven't eaten today." The waitress jots down their orders and takes off to place it with the cooks. Ada is going to have to go in about half an hour. Zach says, "Oki.. :)" Harriet says, "Alas! :)" Zach leans back on his chair and glances around the crowd. "So.. What do you guys think was up with that trenchcoat dude?" Ada shakes her head. "Just an ass trying to get attention. Some people just don't have a concept of propriety." Harriet nods. "He's insane. A complete lunatic. Obviously been hit in the head one too many times..." She appears about to continue, then grins sheepishly and shrugs. "I'm not fond of him." Zach hmms. "Yeah he's pretty eccentric, I'll say that for him. It's like he deliberately and constantly tries to upset and insult people. I can't belive how rude he was to Roger the other day..." The current time in Kansas City is 4:41 PM, Wed Sep 25, 2002. Harriet grimaces. "Yes. And after Roger saved his life, too...if he hadn't come along just then," she shudders. "The man is stark raving mad, and that's the kindest thing I can think of to say about him, you know?" Ada greyscales. May be back tonight. Zach chuckles. "Well it's no wonder he keeps getting shot at, that's for sure." Harriet rolls her eyes. "It's a wonder that no one's hit him, yet." She sighs, and sips at her water. "Ah, well. Takes all kinds, you know?" Zach smiles and nods. "Yeah, there were all sorts of funne animals in Noah's Ark. But lets not dwell on the Trenchcoat no more. How's your cheek doing? Still sore?" Harriet reaches up to touch it. "Um, oh, yes." She smiles warmly. "It seems to be doing fine. It wasn't serious to begin with, and it's almost gone now. Other than the protest, how has your day been?" Zach nods smilingly, happy to see that the damage is healing nicely. "Mine? Oh it's been fine. I managed to wrangle today off, and get the night duty instead. So's I can enjoy this lovely day." He flashes a roguish grin. "And this lovely company." Harriet shakes her head and grins. "Ada should lock you up in a basement somewhere, Zach. You're too charming for your own good." She leans back in her chair. "Night duty? So you work at a shop? For some odd reason, I thought you were freelance, you know?" Zach laughs and winks at her first comment. "Ada knows I'd die if she did that. Don't take well to being locked up, me. I'm a freelance mechanic most of the time. I own my own tow truck. But since I came here, I've hooked up with a garage. Brings both me and them more business." You say, "The night thing is that I'm on call with the truck." Harriet chuckles. "And it would be just tragic to deny the rest of us female-types the chance to bask in your well-trained flattery, I'm sure." She looks up as the waitress returns, laden with foodstuffs, and beams at the woman. "Food! Oh, joy!" Zach grins happily as he lais eyes on the delights. "Yay! I'm ravenous! You, miss, are a heroine if there ver was one!" he tells the waitress who grins and tells them to enjoy. Zach he grabs a fork and point at Harriet with it. "You know it ain't 'well-trained flattery' if it's true!" Harriet proceeds to do just that, as she inhales the spicy aroma of her ribs. She pops a fry into her mouth, chews, swallows, and sighs happily. "I love ribs. I really do." She digs in. Zach starts devouring his spare ribs contently, dipping them in the salsa sauce every so often. Harriet says from around a chunk of rib, "And I can't argue with that, because it sounds so nice." She winks at him, and returns her attention to the meal. After a while of contented chewing, Harriet puts down the now-stripped rib, licks the extra sauce off her fingers, and uses a napkin for extra clean up. She looks over at Zach. "So, any automotive challenges...other than trying to figure out how to exorcise my car of pink diceness?" Zach finishes his dinner, wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans back on his chair. "Aahhh! That was simply divine!" Upon hearing her question, he laughs. "Heh, nothing quite that unusual I'm afraid. It's usually grumpy engines that just needs that little bit of special love and care.." Harriet's eyes sparkle. "And I'm sure you're very good at love and care." She pauses. "For engines, I mean." Zach smiles warmly, his eyes shining as he regards her steadily. "I do try to be very good at love and care. Period." Harriet ducks her head, laughing. "How did I know you were going to say that?" She picks up a rib and waggles it at him. "You're a dangerous man, Mr. Ellis." Zach quirks a corner of his mouth and smiles mysteriously. "Yes... I suppose I am. But honestly, I prever loving over fighting." After an artistic break he laughs and shakes his head. "Oh dear.." Harriet laughs and chomps down on her rib. Harriet is a woman in her early twenties. She's below average in height, and thin and pale, as if she doesn't get out much. She has short-cropped, unruly, dark brown hair, and green eyes. Her round, open face seems as if it's used to doing a lot of smiling. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses perch--slightly askew--on her nose. Today, Harriet is wearing a large, handpainted T-shirt, and faded jeans. The T-shirt has two scenes, a stylized sun on a light blue background on the front, deepining to midnight blue and a full moon on the back. Here and there, small sequins pick out stars around the pale moon. There's a healing, barely-noticible scrape on her right cheek, and her hands are dotted with white flakes of dried plaster that continue almost up to her elbows. Zach's eyes roam over her t-shirt. "Say, did you do that one yourself? It's really prettyr." Zach says, "Pretty, even :)" Harriet says, "And I thought you were going for a Sean Connery brogue. :)" Harriet looks down and blushes. "Yes, I did, thank you. A few years ago, actually." She shrugs, "I don't know how it's managed to avoid getting splashes of whatever I'm working on thus far, you know?" Zach says, "Thatsh rreally prrettyr.. :)" Harriet says, "Okay, a /drunk/ Sean Connery. :)" Zach hiccups guiltily. :) Harriet eyes him speculatively. "Nice pants," she says, grinning. "Buy them from the Crowne Royale?" Harriet has disconnected. Harriet has connected. Harriet says, "I think your pants crashed my connection. ;P" Zach tilts his head and suggests: "Maybe it's a special lucky shirt? You never know... There are more shirts b'tween Heaven and Earth, Harrietatio than I dreamt of in your philosophies..." He looks down at his leather. "Yep, these are from Sarah's shop. Bought them just a couple of days after I came to Kaycee." Zach says, "They tend to do that, yes. :)" Harriet chuckles. "Perhaps, but when the wind blows south-by-southeast, I know a shirt from a fine pair of leather pants, so I guess that's alright, then." She takes a swallow from her glass, and nods. "Buying stuff there seems to be an initiation rite. In my case, it was an apron." "You may very well be right Harriet," Zach laughs. "I got this shirt there as well. Normally I'm a jeans and t-shirt kinda guy, but when I came in there.. I just had to have these pants." He takes a drink of his water. "So is your apron serving you well?" "I wonder why," she says, dryly. "And yes, when I remember to use it, the apron works very well." Harriet grins. "Which, unfortunately, isn't as often as it should be." Zechiah enters from the lot. The current time in Kansas City is 6:17 PM, Wed Sep 25, 2002. The place is really crowded with people enjoying their dinner. Waiters are darting to and fro, and the cooks are working their arses off. In fact it's so packed that there's currently only one table with space to spare... Zach chuckles and regards her hands. "I dunno... I think its kinda charming with the odd paint spash and plaster.." Zechiah stands at about 5'9" with a medium athletic build and alabaster skin. He can't be any older than 21 or 22, but maybe he's just one of those baby faced people. His face is narrow with soft edges: gentle cheekbones, a strong jaw line, and a small, slightly square but rounded chin. He's got a delicate nose with a narrow bridge. His hair is fine and sandy blonde, and when the light strikes it just right, it sparkles with a near golden shine. The hairstyle is plain and clean cut: his hair parted down the middle and has been allowed to grow out a little, as it is almost level with his eyes. It's trimmed short and neatly in the back. His eyes are a light, faded blue, and if one were to look close or deep enough, they would be able to see green flecks dispersed amongst the blues of the iris. His narrow eyebrows are a more sandy blonde color than his hair. He is wearing a black Nike shirt with the logo "Just do it" . The shirt is tucked out of some light blue jeans. An old pair of sneakers are his footwear of choice, and any logos or brandnames that may once have been visible are now worn off. Harriet chuckles. "Is there anything you don't find charming about a woman, Zach?" Still, her cheeks are a little warm, it's obvious she enjoyed the compliment. Zechiah pushes open the door and strides inside, the sounds of blues music attracting his attention more than anything else. Although, the smells do lead him just a bit as he strides towards the ordering counter while his eyes rake the room for an open seat. Zach blinks and umms. He has to think carefully. "Er.. Hm. Cynicalness, hate, chewing tobacco... That's about it I think." He smiles. Harriet nods and smiles back. "I get those. Especially the chewing tobacco." She makes a face. "Filthy habit, that." Zach nods. "Yes, I could never really groove to that. Snuff's nasty too. But for the most part, I find good and charming things in just about everyone I meet. It's just a matter of looking closely enough. Sadly most people never learn to really /see/ other folks." Zechiah orders a simple glass of water from the counter. As he waits for it to be served, he impatiently eyes the one open table. He glances back at the server...only now just putting ice in the glass. He looks back at the table...then eyes some movement of people searching for a seat. His eyes waver back and forth between these three things. Soon, the glass is finally past into his hands, and he slides the money over to the server, then briskly walks towards the open table. "Gotta get there first.." he mutters under his breath as he hurries. Harriet beams "Exactly! Most people are pretty nice, you know? I'd probably even like Trenchcoat if he'd stop hitting people with signs." She pauses. "Well, maybe not him." Zach looks around and spots this dude arrowing in his general direction. "Looks like we're about to get company," he says to Harriet. A friendly smile flashes in the young man's direction. Harriet looks up in surprise, and spots the 'dude' in question. She grins. "Need a seat, sir?" Zach chuckles to Harriet's comment. "Heheh! He probably has /some/ redeeming quality. Most of 'em have. It's just a matter of daring to be the one that invites another to dance as it were." Zechiah halts by Zach and Harriet's table, eyeing other approaching customers, and quickly looking around to double check for spare seating..of which there seems to be none. "Uhh, yeah, please," he mutters. Zach uses his foot to push a chair out. "Well then, don't just stand there buddy! Have a seat!" he exclaims with a warm smile. Harriet grimaces. "He threw a sign at me. And that's even forgiving the gun incident. Give me a couple of days to forgive him." She gestures at Zechiah, "Please, feel free to sit down. This 'cue's to good to have to eat standing up." Zechiah arches a brow slightly at the odd topics of conversation, hesitantly sitting down and scooting a few inches further away from Harriet and Zach. "Rough crowd.." he comments quietly. Zach chuckles. "Nah, we're just gossiping about this really strange dude. We were over at Crown Center looking at the protesters, when this guy came and tried to start a riot all on his own. Went down like a lead balloon." Zechiah nods slowly, as if beginning to understand, but then he interjects, "Protestors? What were they protesting?" Harriet shrugs. "I'm still not entirely sure. They think the police are witholding information on that Sweet Delights thing, which they probably are, but it's probably for a good reason." She sticks out a hand. "I'm Harriet. And you are?" Zach nods in agreement with Harriet. "Although I'm not too sure about the 'good reason' bit." Zechiah smiles slightly. "Strange things happening in this city, I guess..can't imagine what the police would want to cover up at a candy store." He takes Harriet's hand and shakes it politely. "I'm Jared," he says with a grin. Harriet grins and nods. "Pleased to meet you. As for the candy store..." she shrugs. "Haven't a clue there, but I'm not so sure it's what they're suggesting it is. But I'm not about to start a riot just to find out, either," she finishes with a scowl. Zach offers a handshake to Jared. "Hello Jared, I'm Zach. Nice to meet you." Zechiah shakes Zach's hand, too. "Nice to meet you, too," he says with a nod. Harriet goes back to nibbling on the plate of ribs before her, after moving around a few plates to ensure Jared has enough room for his order. Zach takes a drink of water. "I have no idea what they are trying to do with that sweetshop thing. It's a bit bizarre that they go in with Hazmats, SWAT and feds, though." Zechiah is content to just sit back and enjoy the music, which he does while tapping his feet to the bass. Occasionally, he takes tiny sips from his water. Zechiah hazards the question, "Hazmats?" Zechiah smirks slightly. "Maybe the sweetshop's owners were tax evaders. Serious tax evaders.." Harriet nods. "It's really strange." She chuckles at Jared's remark. "I can't imagine how severe an evader you'd have to be to get, how many different agencies was it again? after you." Zechiah shrugs. "Those agency guys were probably bored," he replies naively. Zach smiles. "Oh sorry. Er. Hazmat is short for Hazardous Materials. They went in with plastic suits on them, apparently." Harriet blinks. "Which really doesn't fit the trichinosis or e.coli theories at all, now that I think of it. Those aren't airborne, you know?" She looks down at her ribs, grimaces, and pushes the plate away. Zechiah blinks at the two of them with a lack of comprehension, then shrugs and drinks his water. "Makes me glad I never went to that store." Zach nods to Harriet. "Precisely. It's just really, really strange so I can well understand that people get upset." He grins to Jared. "Heh, point." Harriet takes a sip of her coke. "Maybe the police don't really know what's going on, either, which is why they're not saying anything. Or, they haven't found everyone involved, and don't want the media to alert them," she muses. Zechiah nods thoughtfully at Harrient's theories, foot still tapping to the music. Zach smiles over to Jared. "So I see you're enjoying the music here.. You come here often?" Zechiah smiles back at Zach. "Not often enough, if you ask me...um, which you are." Harriet seems content for the moment to relax and sip at her coke. Zach chuckles softly. "I know the feeling. It's brilliant to have a place doing both excellent food and groovy music. I could live here, I'm sure." Zach needs to go in a few.. :( Zechiah awws.. Zechiah steals a glance at the sweaty looking cooks and mentally notes the heat. "Well, I don't know about living here..but it's an alright place to visit.." Zach says, "Harriet - you have him all to yourself..:)" Harriet says, "Sniffle. Well, it was fun. :)" Harriet looks at Jared with a smile. "I know what you mean. Living here would soon lead to a hatred of barbeque, and that'd just be terrible." The current time in Kansas City is 7:30 PM, Wed Sep 25, 2002. Zechiah nods half-heartedly. "Just out of curiousity..does this place serve anything other than barbequed foods?" Harriet grins, and raises her eyebrows at Jared. "Um, do salad and fries count?" Zach grins. "I hate to admit it, but you two might just have a point. Hmm.. Maybe a wigwam out in the parkinglot then.." He looks at Jared. "I dunno.. Never thought about it..." Then he checks his watch and sighs. "Oh.. I have to leave now, to get ready for my nightshift. It was nice seeing you again Harriet, take care now. And Jared, a pleasure to have met you. See y'all later." Zach fishes out his wallet and puts money and tips on the table. Then he rises. Zechiah waves to Zach as he gets up to leave. "Nice meeting you, too. Take care," he says, then looks thoughtful at Harrient's question. "Sure, those count." Harriet grins up at Zach and waves goodbye. "Good luck with the work, Zach." Harriet looks over to Jared and shrugs. "Well, then, I guess they do. Not much, though, you know?" Zach smiles warmly to Harriet and neatly catches her hand and lands a butterfly-light kiss on it before she even has the chance to react. "You too, Harriet. Bye now, guys!" Zach grins and heads for the door. Zechiah nods a few times. "Well, I guess if you want gourmet, you go to a fancy restaurant. You want barbeque, you come here." He smiles to himself as he watches Zach kiss Harriet on the hand. Harriet blushes and mock glares at Zach. "You're a shameless man, Mr. Ellis," she says and shakes her head. Zach says, "Goodnight guys, and thanks for the rp! :)" Zechiah says, "See you around, Zack :)" You step outside.