[SCENE] [Flashback] A Cowboy and a Bambina Cross Paths
:U)) ((well, I tried))'>Lana: *it's early afternoon one day in 2010, and Detective Lana Skye is seated near the door at one of the tables in the police department's breakroom, finishing her lunch. As she pours the remainder of her thermos of soup into the cup lid, she's also carefully skimming a rather dry document detailing the facts of some open case or another; she'll be heading out later that afternoon to investigate further upon it, and wants to be fully prepared*
Jake: *Officer Jake Marshall -- a relative newcomer to the force, and a strange one he is -- struts in with his usual eye-catching attire: cowboy boots on his feet with spurs that clink with every step, a brown leather jacket with far too much fringe hanging off of it, and brown leather chaps worn over his standard issue pants. Quietly humming some tune, he opens the fridge door and bends over to retrieve his lunch shoved at the back of the bottom shelf*
Lana: *glances up from her paper document when she hears someone entering the room. She recognizes the man; she even remembers his name-- Officer Marshall -- as he's not exactly an easy person to forget. As he heads over to retrieve his lunch she follows him with her eyes and thinks back, realizing that she hasn't ever spoken to him at any length before. She's partway into trying to come up with a line of conversation with the officer when she realizes she's staring at him... more specifically, at a rather fine specimen of a rear end emphasized all too effectively, all too crudely by his leather chaps and his current position leaning into the refrigerator. She hurriedly glances back down to her file and continues reading, chiding herself mentally*
Jake: *pulls out a tupperware container holding his lunch and a can of ginger ale which he sets down on the table, giving Lana a friendly smile as he gives a cheerful greeting* Afternoon, Detective! *turns his back to her to open the microwave, placing the container inside*
Lana: Good afternoon, Officer Marshall. *her voice is politely neutral, but she glances up as she says this and ends up looking at his backside again. Her eyes slide down--what a ridiculous outfit, but somehow it works--and then she realizes she's staring again and frowns irritably, raising her thermos lid of soup and taking a long sip from it so it blocks out her view* Do you usually enjoy such a late lunch?
Jake: I let my stomach dictate when I have my vittles, not the hands of a clock. That's how they did it in the old days. *punches the buttons hesitantly -- it seems he had to start over a couple of times because there are far too many beeps -- and he turns to her with a satisfied grin when the appliance finally lights up and whirs* What about you?
Lana: *a smile tugs at her lips when he speaks -- vittles? She wonders just how far he's willing to take this cowboy act -- but she smiles more earnestly when he turns to face her* I usually eat earlier, but I only got back to the precinct a half hour ago. *her eyes trail along the fringe of his jacket--and then down again, to his chaps, and she frowns slightly again*
Jake: *casually props his arm up on the microwave as he speaks, studying her expressions* Always on the go, ain't ya? Like a frontierswoman, scouting the fields... *takes note of the frown* Somethin' bothering you, Detective?
Lana: *a little too hurriedly* No, nothing. ... *sets down her thermos cup and spends some time adjusting the placement-- she's grappling with something in her mind, it seems. Finally, rather sharply:* Officer?
Jake: *tilts his head* Yes, ma'am?
Lana: Those additions to your uniform are not regulation, correct?
Jake: *glances down at himself for a brief second, remaining cheerful* My personal gear, you mean? No, I don't believe they are.
Lana: *sternly, though no longer sharply* Are you aware you are not supposed to be covering your uniform with... various paraphernalia? *her eyes glance over him again* ...and aren't you warm in that jacket?
Jake: Any particular cowboy's gear becomes a rich tapestry of his own making! *grins teasingly* You wouldn't wanna take my individuality away from me, now would ya?
Lana: *manages to keep from staring again. Her face is stony, but her words are not said unkindly as she meets his eyes* I would, to ensure a uniform... uniform. *clears her throat, pushing to her feet* To ensure uniformity. You can assert your individuality with your attire once you are a detective.
Jake: Well heck, that's what I'm aimin' for! *the microwave beeps behind him as it comes to a stop. Pushing his jacket behind him, he rests his hands on his hips and looks down at his chaps for a moment before looking back up at her* You want I should take 'em off?
Lana: *glances at him, follows his gaze, then glances off* Yes, Officer Marshall. As soon as possible, preferably.
Jake: Awrighty then! *unbuckles his chaps and tugs them down his legs right then and there*
Lana: *her eyes widen slightly -- she's not looking -- and then they fix into a glare as she crosses her arms* I did not mean right here, Officer!
Jake: *he's already mostly done stripping when she speaks out -- and he doesn't stop* You said you wanted 'em off as soon as possible! *steps out of them and slings them over the back of a chair*
Lana: Who in their right mind just strips out of their clothing like that!? *stops herself, letting out a breath before she turns to address him again, gravely but clearly a little flustered* I hope that your intention here is not merely to unnerve me, Mr. Marshall.
Jake: *moves back to the microwave, opening it to take out the heated tupperware and a plastic fork* Hey, they're just chaps. Like takin' off a jacket to settle down after a long journey through the barren roads on horseback. *pulls that chair out, seating himself -- he gives her a humble, harmless look* Sorry if it caught ya off guard. I didn't mean to offend.
Lana: *her own look softens at that expression* It's all right; if there was no harm meant, there was no harm done. *reseats herself at her own table. Her soup has since gone cold, but she doesn't feel particularly like heating it. She really ought to be looking at her files again, but she's looking over to the cowboy instead*
Jake: *opens the container and digs into his jambalaya, taking in a forkful* Mmmm... this here's fine stuff. Want a bite?
Lana: *it certainly smells nice... but she shakes her head, offering a small smile - it's actually genuine* No, but thank you. *sounding earnestly perplexed for a moment* That's jambalaya, correct? Isn't that Creole... and not Texan?
Jake: *blinks and gives a chuckle at that* Does everythin' I do gotta be Texan? Not all cowboys eat rib eye, bambina. *resumes eating*
Lana: ... Oh. *glances down to the table, apparently feeling rather foolish. She brushes back her hair with a hand* I jumped to conclusions-- I apologise. It's just, with your outfit and your, ah... vocabulary...
Lana: *trails off and clears her throat, adjusting the subject* ...Do you miss being in Texas, Officer Marshall?
Jake: Hard to say... *opens the pop can* In all my born days, I've been living in west side L.A. *chugs down the ginger ale*
Lana: *blinks, a hand moving to her chest* ...Ah. *she can sense the conversation has gone into a ditch. A rather burning question rises in her mind--certainly the one every individual thinks of at such a revelation, if not upon immediately seeing the oddly dressed officer -- but she has the composure not to ask it*
Jake: *continues on as he eats* I do have a fondness for it.. Even when I moved out with my baby brother, didn't wanna stray too far from familiar sights.
Lana: *thankful for the change in subject again, she nods* I understand that-- my sister and I haven't moved from the house that once belonged to our parents. *smiles softly* There are too many memories.
Lana: ...How old is your younger brother?
Jake: Twenty-two. *chews and swallows* He ain't a baby no more, but... hard to stop thinking of 'im that way. Even when he's goin' through law school. *says this with a silly but warm grin*
Lana: *smiles sincerely, fully--it considerably brightens all her features* I understand that, too. *rises to clean up her eating area--but she keeps her eyes consistently fixed on him* Does he have any interest in criminal law?
Jake: His dream is to do battle in the courtroom, shootin' down criminals with logic and evidence. That's his aim. *beams proudly* Neil Marshall -- remember that name, 'cause he's gonna be somethin' some day, I'm telling ya.
Lana: *moves over to the sink, cleaning out her thermos and a long empty mug of some drink or other - still smiling without reservation* And you'll be there working the same cases alongside him, correct...?
Jake: You bet! *the...almost childish excitement is evident in his tone as he grins back at her* The two of us combined... why, we're gonna strike fear into the hearts of every dirty rustler you can find in this city of angels. Us Marshalls are unbreakable!
Lana: Well... I look forward to it. *places her thermos to the side and walks over to him, her hands folded neatly in front of her* It seems we have much more in common than I had expected, Officer Marshall. I look forward to working with the both of you.
Jake: Same to you. Nice shooting the breeze with ya, Detective. *a winning smile* Let's do lunch again some other time, y'hear?
Lana: Some other time. *walks over to her seat to retrieve her papers and tuck in her chair. With a glance and a smile back at Jake, she leaves*
Jake: *Officer Jake Marshall -- a relative newcomer to the force, and a strange one he is -- struts in with his usual eye-catching attire: cowboy boots on his feet with spurs that clink with every step, a brown leather jacket with far too much fringe hanging off of it, and brown leather chaps worn over his standard issue pants. Quietly humming some tune, he opens the fridge door and bends over to retrieve his lunch shoved at the back of the bottom shelf*
Lana: *glances up from her paper document when she hears someone entering the room. She recognizes the man; she even remembers his name-- Officer Marshall -- as he's not exactly an easy person to forget. As he heads over to retrieve his lunch she follows him with her eyes and thinks back, realizing that she hasn't ever spoken to him at any length before. She's partway into trying to come up with a line of conversation with the officer when she realizes she's staring at him... more specifically, at a rather fine specimen of a rear end emphasized all too effectively, all too crudely by his leather chaps and his current position leaning into the refrigerator. She hurriedly glances back down to her file and continues reading, chiding herself mentally*
Jake: *pulls out a tupperware container holding his lunch and a can of ginger ale which he sets down on the table, giving Lana a friendly smile as he gives a cheerful greeting* Afternoon, Detective! *turns his back to her to open the microwave, placing the container inside*
Lana: Good afternoon, Officer Marshall. *her voice is politely neutral, but she glances up as she says this and ends up looking at his backside again. Her eyes slide down--what a ridiculous outfit, but somehow it works--and then she realizes she's staring again and frowns irritably, raising her thermos lid of soup and taking a long sip from it so it blocks out her view* Do you usually enjoy such a late lunch?
Jake: I let my stomach dictate when I have my vittles, not the hands of a clock. That's how they did it in the old days. *punches the buttons hesitantly -- it seems he had to start over a couple of times because there are far too many beeps -- and he turns to her with a satisfied grin when the appliance finally lights up and whirs* What about you?
Lana: *a smile tugs at her lips when he speaks -- vittles? She wonders just how far he's willing to take this cowboy act -- but she smiles more earnestly when he turns to face her* I usually eat earlier, but I only got back to the precinct a half hour ago. *her eyes trail along the fringe of his jacket--and then down again, to his chaps, and she frowns slightly again*
Jake: *casually props his arm up on the microwave as he speaks, studying her expressions* Always on the go, ain't ya? Like a frontierswoman, scouting the fields... *takes note of the frown* Somethin' bothering you, Detective?
Lana: *a little too hurriedly* No, nothing. ... *sets down her thermos cup and spends some time adjusting the placement-- she's grappling with something in her mind, it seems. Finally, rather sharply:* Officer?
Jake: *tilts his head* Yes, ma'am?
Lana: Those additions to your uniform are not regulation, correct?
Jake: *glances down at himself for a brief second, remaining cheerful* My personal gear, you mean? No, I don't believe they are.
Lana: *sternly, though no longer sharply* Are you aware you are not supposed to be covering your uniform with... various paraphernalia? *her eyes glance over him again* ...and aren't you warm in that jacket?
Jake: Any particular cowboy's gear becomes a rich tapestry of his own making! *grins teasingly* You wouldn't wanna take my individuality away from me, now would ya?
Lana: *manages to keep from staring again. Her face is stony, but her words are not said unkindly as she meets his eyes* I would, to ensure a uniform... uniform. *clears her throat, pushing to her feet* To ensure uniformity. You can assert your individuality with your attire once you are a detective.
Jake: Well heck, that's what I'm aimin' for! *the microwave beeps behind him as it comes to a stop. Pushing his jacket behind him, he rests his hands on his hips and looks down at his chaps for a moment before looking back up at her* You want I should take 'em off?
Lana: *glances at him, follows his gaze, then glances off* Yes, Officer Marshall. As soon as possible, preferably.
Jake: Awrighty then! *unbuckles his chaps and tugs them down his legs right then and there*
Lana: *her eyes widen slightly -- she's not looking -- and then they fix into a glare as she crosses her arms* I did not mean right here, Officer!
Jake: *he's already mostly done stripping when she speaks out -- and he doesn't stop* You said you wanted 'em off as soon as possible! *steps out of them and slings them over the back of a chair*
Lana: Who in their right mind just strips out of their clothing like that!? *stops herself, letting out a breath before she turns to address him again, gravely but clearly a little flustered* I hope that your intention here is not merely to unnerve me, Mr. Marshall.
Jake: *moves back to the microwave, opening it to take out the heated tupperware and a plastic fork* Hey, they're just chaps. Like takin' off a jacket to settle down after a long journey through the barren roads on horseback. *pulls that chair out, seating himself -- he gives her a humble, harmless look* Sorry if it caught ya off guard. I didn't mean to offend.
Lana: *her own look softens at that expression* It's all right; if there was no harm meant, there was no harm done. *reseats herself at her own table. Her soup has since gone cold, but she doesn't feel particularly like heating it. She really ought to be looking at her files again, but she's looking over to the cowboy instead*
Jake: *opens the container and digs into his jambalaya, taking in a forkful* Mmmm... this here's fine stuff. Want a bite?
Lana: *it certainly smells nice... but she shakes her head, offering a small smile - it's actually genuine* No, but thank you. *sounding earnestly perplexed for a moment* That's jambalaya, correct? Isn't that Creole... and not Texan?
Jake: *blinks and gives a chuckle at that* Does everythin' I do gotta be Texan? Not all cowboys eat rib eye, bambina. *resumes eating*
Lana: ... Oh. *glances down to the table, apparently feeling rather foolish. She brushes back her hair with a hand* I jumped to conclusions-- I apologise. It's just, with your outfit and your, ah... vocabulary...
Lana: *trails off and clears her throat, adjusting the subject* ...Do you miss being in Texas, Officer Marshall?
Jake: Hard to say... *opens the pop can* In all my born days, I've been living in west side L.A. *chugs down the ginger ale*
Lana: *blinks, a hand moving to her chest* ...Ah. *she can sense the conversation has gone into a ditch. A rather burning question rises in her mind--certainly the one every individual thinks of at such a revelation, if not upon immediately seeing the oddly dressed officer -- but she has the composure not to ask it*
Jake: *continues on as he eats* I do have a fondness for it.. Even when I moved out with my baby brother, didn't wanna stray too far from familiar sights.
Lana: *thankful for the change in subject again, she nods* I understand that-- my sister and I haven't moved from the house that once belonged to our parents. *smiles softly* There are too many memories.
Lana: ...How old is your younger brother?
Jake: Twenty-two. *chews and swallows* He ain't a baby no more, but... hard to stop thinking of 'im that way. Even when he's goin' through law school. *says this with a silly but warm grin*
Lana: *smiles sincerely, fully--it considerably brightens all her features* I understand that, too. *rises to clean up her eating area--but she keeps her eyes consistently fixed on him* Does he have any interest in criminal law?
Jake: His dream is to do battle in the courtroom, shootin' down criminals with logic and evidence. That's his aim. *beams proudly* Neil Marshall -- remember that name, 'cause he's gonna be somethin' some day, I'm telling ya.
Lana: *moves over to the sink, cleaning out her thermos and a long empty mug of some drink or other - still smiling without reservation* And you'll be there working the same cases alongside him, correct...?
Jake: You bet! *the...almost childish excitement is evident in his tone as he grins back at her* The two of us combined... why, we're gonna strike fear into the hearts of every dirty rustler you can find in this city of angels. Us Marshalls are unbreakable!
Lana: Well... I look forward to it. *places her thermos to the side and walks over to him, her hands folded neatly in front of her* It seems we have much more in common than I had expected, Officer Marshall. I look forward to working with the both of you.
Jake: Same to you. Nice shooting the breeze with ya, Detective. *a winning smile* Let's do lunch again some other time, y'hear?
Lana: Some other time. *walks over to her seat to retrieve her papers and tuck in her chair. With a glance and a smile back at Jake, she leaves*