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Backdated.

Sofia goes with a request to Garrison Kane about potential information from the FBI.



Click. Click. Click. Click.

Garrison Kane's pen paused in midword as the noise reached his ears. He laid it down, without looking up from the page he'd been working on.

"In this field office there are fourteen female employees, seven of them agents, three in administration, two in executive or management, and two that work the desk. Of those women, none have ever been seen in the office in a heel higher than three inches. So what I'm interested in is what I can do for you today, Ms Mantega-Barret?"

A hand, long fingers and manicured nails, reached out to take the mug at his elbow and drew it towards her. There was the sound of grooves passing each other in opposite directions and then the spilling of liquid into ceramic. Done, Sofia settled herself into the chair opposite him, crossing her legs and pouring the drink into the silver thermos' cup. "I brought coffee," she offered helpfully, and took a sip. "It's not Jim Horton's, but it's hot."

"Tim Horton. You know, the hockey player--what am I saying, of course you don't know the hockey player. I've been up entirely too long." Garrison took a sip from the mug, hissed as he burned his mouth, and set it back down only to make a perfect coffee stain on his report. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Sorry, hi. I appreciate the coffee. We keep running out here."

"I did say it was hot," she returned, but there was a hint of something related to sympathy in the look she gave him over her cup. "You can hide the rest of the thermos under your desk, if you'd like. Where I assume there is a pillow and your jacket as well."

"Don't be ridiculous. I use my jacket as a pillow, of course." Kane said, a quick grin underlying his words. He took another sip of the coffee, and stretched out his neck, trying to work out the kinks hours staring at documents or a computer screen had generated. "Is this random coffee generosity a new gig for you? Decided to give up psychiatry for the life of the roving barista?"

"Canadian, right. You don't get cold." Sofia watched patiently, using the moment to idly tap her thumb against the tin. "Your uncle has a favor to ask of you. Of course, because I'm much prettier and everyone is avoiding their appointments under the guise of work..."

"Pete's got a request? Oh, I just know I'm about to commit a crime now." Kane shook his head and scrubbed his hands through his hair. "And pretty helps. Doug would have already been thrown out the door."

There was a quiet sort short hiss, a stifled chuckle, and Sofia pulled her mouth together just enough to weaken the smile. "Just a little one. And you'll notice we waited until I was a woman again before I showed up. We are very considerate bad influences, at least." She pushed her hair back, ignoring the observation on nervous habits. "You may or may not know this, but the FBI handles kidnappings. And since we recently had a kidnapping and you just happen to work at the FBI, well."

"I'm not assigned to the case, Sofia. Which means there's no way I could possibly have any information, unless by some incredibly random fluke I happened to get stuck eating lunch with Don Feller, the lead agent on the case and spent most of my mediocre tuna wrap hearing all about the details. The odds against that are extremely high." Kane rubbed his forehead for a second before nodding. "Tell Pete I'll drop by after work tonight with what I know. I should warn you, there isn't much."

"I know. Wisdom managed to convince me that you're quite bright and it was worth my trip over here, though." She shrugged, crossing her legs the other way. "Enough that I brought you coffee. It's something to think about."

"That sounds disturbingly like Pete's trying to set us up or something." Kane said, slightly horrified at the thought. Not of Sofia, who was really quite attractive and sexily terrifying in her heels, but the idea of Pete trying to play matchmaker. "Which means he's trying to get me killed since I am dating a women who could literally snap me in half."

Sofia made a pained noise, reaching up to massage at one temple. "It is entirely possible. You might want to let him know about your girlfriend this evening, then, before he mysteriously finds an undercover assignment that only we can do," she said, squeezing her eyes closed with a long, inhaled breath. "And to find out something valuable before hand so that I don't have to kill him. You two seem to be quite close, while he only insists on trying to make me miserable."

"Pete tries to make everyone miserable. It's part of his charm." Kane said, sipping his coffee. "Keeping with our sudden romantic subplot in the thriller theme, I actually have some non-undercover work that only we can do. Because the undercover stuff would only lead to you being immensely satisfied and me trying to find out where in Russia Marie dumped my head."

Garrison reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a file full of notes and printouts from the mansion. "I've been picking at our files for a bit, especially the rogues gallery, and one of the things that I've been finding is a serious hole in the file. There is some brilliantly detailed clinical analysis of the foes, which I'm guessing came from the Professor, and lots of operational observations and ideas. What it's missing is a true full crminal behavioural profile and all the resulting procedural support. There are some notes from Bartlet, a former FBI forensic doctor, and some Interpol guy named Cassidy. Some of the work by Charles touches on elements, but because there's no real institiutional history in the team yet, they haven't built much on it. Interested in a little side project?"

"I think you just made innuendo and then asked me to do your work for you." Sofia turned her head just slightly to the side, a playful breeze spinning around the office. "Almost like I don't already keep two and a half jobs. How odd."

"Not entirely. I've got the process side down, with a strong background in psychology and criminology. But behavioural psyche is not something I got far into, and you've actually worked for the Bureau, which means you have experience on both ends that no one else connected with the X-Men does." Kane said. Most of the profilers he'd met treated the job like some kind of brilliant crossword puzzle, and he was hoping she'd be willing to get involved out of intellectual curiousity. "I'll throw in drinks and take-out on top."

Sofia looked rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but be somewhat amused, if not wryly so. "Someone has been sharing secrets again. So, what do I drink?"

"According to the rumours, human blood mixed with the tears of broken men."

"But children and puppies will do in a pinch," she returned, letting a beat pass before gesturing towards herself. "Fine. Give it to me. But I'm not staying up for three days this time."

"Here's the basic notes I've got. I'll talk to the Professor about giving you database access for the main files themselves." He passed over the folder. "There's no rush on this. It's just something I'd feel better having available, and with a resource like your skills presents, it's hard not to want to take advantage of them. I appreciate it."

Sofia blinked, suddenly finding herself very interested in flipping through the pages she'd just been handed, hiding her surprise. "Right. I... of course." She coughed and then stood, slipping the files into her large shoulder bag. "Just remember to enjoy your tuna wrap. Or, well. You know what I mean."