Garrison and Adrienne - In Florida

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

In an attempt to de-stress and recouperate from a stressful last month, Adrienne heads down to Florida with Garrison (who's had his own stress in the past few months) to watch baseball.


Friday morning: Soaking up some sun and poking fun at rich people and adolescent males.
"Kane...?" Adrienne muttered, face buried in the crook of her arm as she lay sprawled out on a lounger on her stomach, soaking up some early sun by the hotel pool before their afternoon ballgame. She drew out the 'K' suspiciously. "Do I have one of those disgusting lizards crawling up my leg or is that you?"

Garrison lifted up his sunglasses and peered over his 'Sporting News' to check. "It's a gecko. Looks like it's planning to picnic on your ass, which, by the way, has been the focus of the fifteen year old down in the shallow end all afternoon." He pointed out in an amused tone. "Now where is that lady who makes the strange drinks with the fruit salad jungle growing out of them magically appear?"

Adrienne had insisted on choosing the accommodations during their trip down to Florida, which had them staying in decidedly more upscale places than the Canadian was used to enjoying. While Fort Myers was hardly the epicenter of culture and wealth, it did sport plenty of hotels for the rich, and now many of them had been chosen by Red Sox fans looking to follow Spring Training. She'd insisted that they soak up some sun before the game, leading them down to a sparsely populated poolside for the afternoon.

Rolling her eyes, Adrienne brought her head up from its arm pillow with great effort and pulled designer sunglasses off the top of her head as she reached around and made a grab for the creature's tail, intending to pick it up and fling it at Garrison, though it was much too quick for her and scurried off down the pool deck unharmed. "Thanks for the help, Boy Scout," she muttered. "Driver would have shooed the nasty lizard away from me, you know. I should have brought him along even though he only likes sports they have in Scotland, like... fishing, or something."

She returned her sunglasses to the top of her head and settled back down. "The lady with the fishbowl drinks is over yonder and will come if you only beckon her, darling," came the bemused answer in Adrienne's best upper crust nasal-y tone. She enjoyed reminding him constantly about the wealthy atmosphere of the expensive hotel, knowing if it had been left up to him they'd be staying at the closest Super 8 to the Dunedin ballpark, though admittedly Kane fit in just as well here as she knew he would at a cheap motel. "You know, Driver also keeps the fifteen year-old boys from ogling me unless I want them to. It is a boy, right?"

"It's a boy. And I'm not Driver, remember? Unlike him, I have a name that isn't simply a job description." Kane said wryly, waving towards the bar area and catching the eye of the girl working that. He didn't need to make that much effort, considering that the few poolside loungers with them were mostly fiftish New England executive types with pasty skin and paunches. Beside them, Garrison's own impressive physique was a sharp contrast.

"If you want the boy to stop staring at your ass, go glare at him. Or call the anti-staring waiter that this place must have on staff somewhere. I think he's in the same office as the shrimp fork washer and the fruit duster."


"His name is Driver, your name is Boy Scout, you both have names based on your job descriptions," Adrienne muttered into her arm, flipping herself over onto her back and replacing her sunglasses when she heard the slap of the waitress's sandals against the pool deck approaching them. She ordered one of the fruit salad jungle drinks Garrison was so fond of and settled back against her lounger as the girl took Garrison's order and shuffled away. "I'm perfectly fine with people staring at my ass," she assured Kane, giving his Sporting News a sidelong glance. "Do you think the fruit duster and the palm tree duster share the same office, or would the palm tree duster be of a lower class than the fruit duster?" she mused with a smirk, trying to catch the eye of the boy Garrison had noticed. She gave him a finger wave and a toothy smile. It had been too long since she'd felt this relaxed and unguarded; Spring Training needed to happen year-round, although she was grateful that it fell at a time close enough to Fashion Week and Steven's death that it could be used to help her re-focus and de-stress in a way a weekend trip to the spa and a night with Morgan couldn't.


"I don't know. I think it depends which one parked cars at an Ivy League school." Kane flipped a page in the magazine, and made a note in the margin. "By the way, if you sleep with the fifteen year old, I will have to arrest you, and that means missing out on hearing Ortiz' ankles creak as he walks to the batter's box tonight."

Adrienne gave him a simpery smile and employed her Katharine Hepburn accent once again. "But really, darling, fifteen year-old boys are at the very top of the list for their experience and their stamina! They can pleasure a woman for hours without ever coming, and I'd be ever so disappointed if you arrested me for sleeping with one. Christ, I can't believe I got through that with a straight face," she added, reverting back to her usual voice. "I didn't even like teenage boys when I was a teenager." She gave him a swat with the back of her hand. "Leave Papi alone. I thought Boy Scouts were supposed to show respect or something like that."

"Never was a Boy Scout. I had language classes instead." Kane said lightly, sipping from the frosted glass of something violently blue and topped with slices of lemon. "And I remember being a fifteen year old boy. You're so surprised that you're even with a woman that you just generally go through the motions with a shocked expression. It's hardly the stuff that porno flicks are made of."

Adrienne brought her drink over to Garrison's lounger and perched next to him. "But I could be giving him experience. It would be public service, or charity, or something," she prodded, clearly teasing despite the fact that her sunglasses hid the mirth in her eyes. "You wouldn't really arrest me for doing charitable works, would you?" She stroked a hand up his arm and over his shoulder suggestively. After a long sip of her drink she picked up his Sporting News and opened it to the page he'd been reading so she could check his note. "You couldn't have been a Boy Scout if you're interested in gambling; I suppose I'll have to change your name to Beaver Boy instead. I can just tell you who's going to win if you really want to know," she pointed out, waggling her fingers at him suggestively.


"First of all, it's a fantasy league, so it's not really gambling. Secondly, I don't need some fancy powers to cheer my team on. I mean, at this point, I can understand not wanting to cheer for the Red Sox without some kind of certainty that they won't regress to their traditional levels of suck. However, I'd rather believe in my Jays and watch things unfold." Kane propped his sunglasses back up on his forehead and squinted at her. "Finally, only Lil calls me Beaver Boy, and that's because her sense of humour was developed in Northern regions where lighting your farts on fire is the height of comedy. I expect better from you, eh?"

"It is true, Lil is a little rough around the edges, but she's fun to torment. 'Gets very uncomfortable when I pretend to flirt with her. So, since when is gambling and using psychometric powers to predict winning baseball teams equated with cheering?" Adrienne asked, snorting into her drink in disbelief of what he was saying. "You mean to tell me that there are people out there who only cheer for teams they know are going to do well? Blasphemy. I've never made a cent off the Red Sox and I still cheer, I'll have you know," she defended herself, poking him in the shoulder to emphasize her point. "And what exactly is a fantasy league, anyway? I mean, I hear about them, but I'm not entirely sure what one actually is. When I hear fantasy baseball, the only thing I think of is men having wet dreams over the game."

"Fantasy in where I draft Justin Morneau, but I don't actually have to pay his salary. It's something us baseball geeks do to attempt to achieve dominance over other, lesser geeks. My note is about some declines in Micheal Young's OPS+, which means I need a different choice for shortstop." He swatted away another attempt to poke him. "So, Ms Frost, you’ve been quietly working and teaching of late. When did you stop causing trouble?"

Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "You just threatened to arrest me for soliciting a fifteen year-old boy, how is it you think I've stopped causing trouble?" She took a sip of her drink and thought further about what he had said. "What sort of trouble did I cause before? I mean, obviously there was that whole murder investigation thing, but other than that I didn't think I made a habit of causing much in the way of actual trouble."

"I've seen you and Morgan drink together. I know trouble, lady." Kane grinned.

"Oh, seriously!" Adrienne proclaimed, backhanding him in the shoulder again with a grin, "she got arrested one time after we went drinking! And I bailed her out! That's not trouble, Boy Scout," she protested vehemently.

"I'd say a class one misdemeanor is trouble. So would the state of New York. See, I've got the law on my side, trouble girl." He polished off his drink. "I meant other than a life of crime. You've been quiet, which means you're planning something."

The psychometrist narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not planning anything, other than maybe a charity photo shoot and fashion show with mutants." And she'd been nosing around the Hellfire Club, but since Adrienne still wasn't entirely sure what she thought of the club, she left that part out. No sense getting into a debate about it with Garrison when she wasn't sure how she felt about it herself. Not that she didn't value his opinion... but still. This trip was about relaxation. They could talk about the Hellfire Club when they returned to New York. "Maybe I've just been engaged in a lot of quiet reflection lately," she pointed out in her own defense. She realized she had been rather quiet since the anniversary of Steven's death. "I could say the same thing about you, couldn't I?"

"I've been buried in five months worth of overdue casework and team training. I have to schedule quiet reflection after my coffee break." Kane pointed out. The Canadian had been working long hours, trying to get back to where he'd been before November. He decided to let the topic slide, noting her sudden defensive shift. "So, where do you think we should eat?"

Friday afternoon: Red Sox versus Marlins, and Adrienne versus Garrison as Garrison asks an innocent question that gets blown completely out of proportion when the subject of the Hellfire Club comes up.

Adrienne took a sip of her beer and stared at the fielder who had taken the place of Jason Bay while the Canadian had gone to play for Team Canada in the World Baseball Classic. "I can't believe we came all the way down here and Bay's up in Toronto. That's bad karma. I was so looking forward to licking him. Kane, would you be terribly disappointed if I abandoned you to go north to seduce Jason Bay and have him fulfill my fantasy baseball fantasy?"

"Nope. I'm well aware that you can't resist Canadians. Also, his sister is pretty hot." Kane looked around what he considered to be deep in enemy territory; Red Sox spring training. It was her dime they were traveling on for this part of the trip, so she got to choose the venues. At least she wasn't licking the rail in front of her. "Am I the only one that thinks that Youkilis looks like he's about halfway through eating a badger?"

Scoffing, Adrienne tore herself away from lustful thoughts about Jason Bay to glare at Garrison. "I do very well at resisting Canadians, thanks very much. Lauren's not really my type, so that helps. Lil's more my type in the way of Canadian women, but she has the anger management issues," she smirked wryly. "And yes, here? You are the only one who thinks anything negative about Yook. Stop complaining and drink your beer. We'll be on your turf soon enough."
- Show quoted text -

"Yook. It sounds like some bizarre kind of sports equipment used in Irish Hurling or something. 'Aye, Fitzpatrick! Get us a'nother yook then will yeh?'." Kane sipped from the plasic cup. Sam Adams. Ugh. "So, wait, if it's the women you're after, why are you planning to try and molest Jason Bay? If you wanted a girl, Ellsbury is right over there."


"Irish hurling?" Adrienne asked, suppressing a giggle. "I don't know what that is. I only know Scotch sports from what Driver mutters under his breath when he takes me to Harry's or to Fenway." She sipped at her beer and thought of the best way to answer his question, joke though it might be. "I'm not 'after' any one, not really, not right now. But maybe I want to put myself back out there to see if anyone comes after me. In a much less creepy way than I made that sound," she added, wrinkling her nose and going back to concentrating on the game. She wasn't even sure why she'd said it, if it was even true that she wanted to consider thinking about letting anyone into her life in anything more than a strictly platonic way. But she felt like she couldn't really decide an answer to that unless someone was there to make her ask the question. It had been eight years; maybe the time for trying again was approaching. It was definitely not a question to be answered right now, however. Today was about annoying Garrison by forcing him to watch the Sox.

"How about you, though?" she asked conversationally, friendly-like. "You've been single for months now, had some personal trials that have led to some... deep introspection. Are you after anyone these days?"

"I don't do well at 'after', to be honest. Marie and I settled a lot of things in Australia, so it's more that, well, I'm kind of here. I've been messed up enough over the last year or so to know that trying to make something happen is only going to backfire on me. I guess it's more trusting that something will happen when it happens." Kane said slowly, turning the thoughts over in his head. He wasn't blind to some of the interest around him, and it certainly wasn't because he hadn't thought about it. It was more him trying not to push something that wasn't ready yet.

"Looks like Okijima's having some trouble locating that fork ball. Could mean Tommy John surgery." He added, just to needle her.

"Something will happen when it happens," Adrienne repeated with a nod. "Basically what I was saying," she mused. "Hang back and see what happens. Just like how you're hanging back making remarks about my pitchers and I'm just going to hang back and see what happens in the way of which drunken fan hits you first." Grinning easily, she settled back in her chair, smoothing the white linen sundress across her knees and knocking his knee with her own. "I'm voting on that guy three rows down with the foam finger and the beer hat."

"You mean the guy that's managed to get his sister, wife and aunt all in the same seat beside him? These are some high quality fans you got here, Adrienne." Kane waved at the beer guy, ignoring the occasional mutterings from the Massholes behind him. They were in the money seats, and Garrison was in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. It was impossible to miss the broad chest and heavily muscled arms as he moved, discouraging the pasty yet belligerent fans from picking a fight. He passed over another beer to Adrienne and a packet of peanuts.

"Reminds me. Were you down in Manhattan on Friday? I could have sworn I saw your car turn past on parkside east during lunch. Didn't you say you were going to be at the office all day?" Kane mentioned idly. It wasn't really a big deal, but he'd noticed the car going past coming back from the deli with a couple of other agents, and remembered her mention of a day of paperwork herself over coffee in the kitchen that morning.

Ripping open the peanuts, Adrienne furrowed her brow and tried to recall the date. "What, I have to run my lunches past you?" She always went out for lunch when she wasn't at the school. It wasn't as if Inez or another staff member couldn't order food in for her, or she could have gone to the cafeteria to eat with her employees, but she enjoyed walking at lunch, and it had become a habit in the past several years. "If I sat at my desk filing papers and making calls all day I'd probably weigh as much as that guy down there," she scoffed, pointing at the man with the beer hat. "Sometimes I meet Morgan and we go for walks and eat lunch on the way. Sometimes Amanda. Usually I walk by myself." She'd been walking by herself a lot lately, using the time to clear her head of business and devote lunch hour to more personal thoughts. "Last Friday, though," she mused, having no secrets from him, "I believe I was having lunch at the Hellfire Club. Where did you eat that you happened to see me?"

"Whoa, hey, I said I thought I saw your car, not that you need to justify to me going out for a bite to eat." Kane's eyebrow quirked at the sudden defensiveness. Normal people would have just said they'd gone out. Adrienne was being careful to underscore just how normal it was, which is what people do when something wasn't normal.

"We were picking up corned beef at Schwartz by the park when I thought I saw you go by is all. Decided to have lunch with big sis or something?"

Adrienne shook her head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry," she replied sheepishly, crossing her arms around herself. "I... I always get Steven in my head at this time of year- last month, really, but it takes a while for him to go away." This year had been easier than most, but the nature of the conversation had been too similar to dozens she'd had while married and it had triggered her self-defense mechanism without her even realizing it. "Being here usually gets rid of him but that crept up on me. I do know I don't have to justify myself to you," she assured him with a smile by way of further apology.

"I was having lunch with a member of the Black Court, actually. I've been interested in the club as a place to further my corporate identity, but since their membership is quite... colourful from a law enforcement perspective, I've been doing a little reconnaissance, both for the FBI and for Emma. I haven't found anything useful for the FBI yet," she added, a touch of disappointment in her voice, "but I am fond of information gathering, even if the things I find are only useful to myself socially. Schwartz makes a good salad nicoise, don't they?"

"Odd. Why would you be looking into it for the FBI? Rich weirdos aside, it's a private club. Unless there's some kind of major conspiracy going on that Fred's got his nose into." Kane frowned. He'd seen the files in the mansion on the Hellfire Club, and there had been some talk about the pressures that some of the members could put on investigations. But sending in Adrienne to sniff things out? Something definitely didn't sound right here. "You sure that's such a good idea? Some of those people run major companies, big enough to put you right out of business if they think you're a threat, and getting your sister tangled up in it could be worse."

Adrienne gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm looking into it so I can give them something juicy enough that it gets Duncan's claws out of me, obviously." The crack of a bat had her turning her attention to the field, and it was a minute or two until the play wrapped up before she turned back to him. "It's not official or anything. There's no conspiracy. I'm working completely for myself, no one's making me do it." She smirked wryly. "I know how to take care of myself and my business, despite the trouble you've seen me in, you know," she pointed out, trying to remain light though the topic of being frequently underestimated was clearly a sensitive one for her. "Emma and I have a very public image of despising one another, so I doubt anyone would tangle the two of us together. I don't think the two of us have ever had a civil conversation in public, actually. We may throw in some hair pulling in our next public encounter."

"You know that it doesn't matter what you bring to Duncan. He's got you on the books for the duration of your deal, and he'll keep making use of you. Oh look, Pedoria got picked off. Aw, shame really." Kane's eyes flickered from the field to Adrienne and back. "I should also point out that if you dig up something on the Hellfire Club as a whole, the law isn't going to care what kind of fetish hierarchy has been set up. They'll charge all the senior officers off it, including your sister."

The psychometrist shrugged good-naturedly. She accepted Kane's points as valid, but she wasn't going to get upset about what he was saying or even think too much about the subject here and now. "Just wait until we're on your turf; we'll see who's a better heckler. So maybe I'm just going to bring what I anticipate to be of interest to Duncan to him out of a sense of public service, and maybe this is all part of my super secret plan to dethrone my sister. I'm out for power, and maybe getting that comes from shutting the whole damn club down." Her smile was indulgent and as sinister as she could make it. "What does the Boy Scout say about that one?"

"I say that you're getting into dangerous territory for different reasons than you're telling me. If you're really interested in digging up information on the Hellfire Club, talk to Duncan first. You don't know the rules around acquiring evidence, understanding what can effect its admissibility in court, and what existing investigations you might end up accidentally effecting and getting yourself back in trouble with the law again." Kane said reasonably. Adrienne was not a trained law enforcement agent, and like most people, had no idea what proper police work had to involve to make an arrest stick.

"If you're really doing this for some other reason, just tell me to mind my own business, and don't try and wrap it up with some bullshit about helping my boss to placate me. It's your life, you do what you want. Just don't try selling it to me in a package you think I'll appreciate, eh?" He finished firmly, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the rails in front, and watching Swisher attempt to leg down a deep foul ball.

"What the hell?" Adrienne exclaimed under her breath, annoyed now, "Here I am trying to be a good person and maybe float the idea of seeing if I can possibly help keep bad people from doing bad things and you jump down my throat? I don't have some secret agenda here, sorry to disappoint you! It is my life, and I do do what I want, and maybe I'm just trying to make harmless conversation with you on a subject that you brought up without trying to sell you anything because I thought we were..." she stopped herself before she could blurt out the word 'friends,' wrapping her arms around herself protectively and staring at the baseball field, trying not to show the fact that she was a little hurt that Garrison assumed she was trying to sell him anything.

"You weren't floating the idea. You were justifying it." Kane said simply, ending the argument. If she didn't want to tell him the truth, it wasn't any of his business, but there wasn't any need to lie to him either. He hunkered his chin down on his forearms and watched the bullpen. "Papalbon has bad facial hair again this year. Nice to know some people never get all the way out of the trailer park."

She recognized that Garrison was trying to end the conversation, but Adrienne wasn't prepared to end things unresolved as it would make for an awkward, possibly painful rest of the trip. "Kane, I'm not justifying anything. I honestly don't have any secret agenda, which I realize may be hard for you to accept coming from me and what you know about me, but I am not justifying anything, because there's nothing to justify, I swear that to you." She applauded herself for keeping her voice level and fairly emotionless, though internally she was still hurt that he would assume she was acting with any sort of agenda or duplicity. "I socialize with the Hellfire Club because of the political and corporate benefits. I gather information to further my political and corporate benefits. If any of that information happens to be criminal or dangerous in nature, and something I decide may be worth the FBI knowing, or Emma knowing, then I may decide to pass that on, because I am trying to be a better person than I have been in the past. If you want me to talk to Duncan about police procedure so I don't fuck anything up, I will. I understand why you think I have another reason for doing what I'm doing, but there is none, I assure you." She didn't know why she cared that any of this was a problem for him, but that was something for her to deal with later. "And I agree, facial hair on a man is very trailer park." Pointed look towards Garrison.

"Quite." Was all Kane said, eyes still on the field. He didn't equate building political and business power inside of a likely corrupt organization, and using the FBI or her sister as the stalking horses to remove potential competition as trying to be a better person. But there was no way to explain that to her.

Adrienne felt her spirits falling and hated herself for the fact that Kane's opinion of her had come to mean so much. Her walls and shields went back up and her demeanor turned icy. She stared at the field but wasn't taking in the play. "Fine. I'm an evil manipulative bitch who's out for all she can steal and I'm never going to be anything more. That's just fine. I've been working on that image for years." She sipped at her beer and focused intensely on the game, though still not really taking it in.

"I never said that, but it's interesting that's what you choose to defend yourself as." Kane said. "I never said you had a secret agenda either, or that I wanted you to talk to Fred about starting an investigation to take down the club that you're apparently trying to cultivate power in. But I also happen to be able to tell when someone reacts to something out of guilt. It's one of those cop things they teach us morons. Like I said before, you want to tell me to mind my business, that's fine, I'm not your keeper and I'm not here to tell you how to live your life. But don't think I'm going to agree that you get to be a better person when you're focused on what you're getting out of it first." Garrison got up from the seat, and walked down the concrete steps, handing his nearly full beer to the first cluster of drunken frat boys he passed on the way to the exit.

"You are a moron!" was all Adrienne could think of to spit out, watching Garrison leave. "I'm not guilty." And fuck, wasn't that something she was sick of saying to him? She felt like screaming, but remembered that she was in the middle of a crowd, the nearest people around her already giving her odd looks. So she stayed in her seat stubbornly rather than following Kane and tried to bore holes into the ball field with her glare.


Friday night: Patching things up at the Super Eight in Dunedin.
Well, it was a Super Eight. Kane had flat out refused to let her book the next part of the trip, and they'd exchanged Adrienne's rented luxury sedan for an imported compact, and set off to Dunedin. The motel wasn't far from the park, and Kane pulled into the parking lot well before dark. The ride had been silent and strained, leading to them finally getting out of the car. Kane grabbed the bags, his strength making them simple to hoist, leaving Adrienne to pick up the room key.

Still stewing, Adrienne checked in for the both of them and pocketed one room key, holding the other out to Kane when she'd caught up to him down the hallway. "So it seems like they've fucked up your reservation and they only had one room left so we're going to have to stay together so that means it looks like you'll have to stop being a moron and assuming I have a secret agenda or I might end up throttling you in your sleep," she said in a cheery tone.

"I see you've decided to be reasonable. Fun." Kane ignored the key, his hands already full and nodded at the door. "Unless you'd like to unpack in the hallway, you should open the door."

Boring holes into him with her eyes, Adrienne stabbed the keycard into the reader and opened the door, deposited the card on the bathroom counter and strode out of the room after flipping the door lock so the deadbolt would keep the door from closing all the way on Kane. She dug the second key out of her pocket and opened the second door, using the deadbolt to keep it open as well, then flopped onto the bed in the second room, hands crossed over her chest like an obstinate child as she stared out the window petulantly.

Kane dropped the baggage on to the floor, not really worried about his own items. Kane traveled light, and his clothes and essentials all fit into a single bag. He tossed his bag on his bed, and dropped his overnight kit into the bathroom. Adrienne in a Super 8 was an interesting situation, especially when royally pissed off.

"I thought you said we only had one room?"

"Yeah, well, I lied. I do that, apparently. I'm a liar and I have secret agendas because I'm a criminal mastermind." More eye hole-boring, though her voice remained emotionless.

"Jesus Adrienne. You sound like Karolina whining. Grow up, will you?" Kane said, finally at the end of his patience. "I never called you a criminal mastermind, and I never said you had a secret agenda. Right now, that opinion is based on the fact that you need a little fucking maturity to do either of those things, instead of sulking in your room like some whiny teen with a bad dye job that just got made to turn off their Evanesence album."

"You're acting like I couldn't possibly be interested in the Hellfire Club for the business and social connections, so you're making me feel guilty for no fucking reason, just because I want to play in the same club as my sister," Adrienne ranted, though her voice never increased in volume from the calm level she'd been employing since they were at the ball field. "Because Frost Enterprises was supposed to be mine and she took it from me and I want to be more than she is. But apparently being competitive against your sister is a sin with you. Wait, did you just insult my dye job?"

"No, I said that you aren't interested in the Hellfire Club as part of some bullshit about being the stalking horse for the FBI and becoming a better person, Adrienne." Kane shot back. "And in return, you're doing your damnest to claim that if I don't believe that, obviously I think you're doing something wrong and evil. Obviously you are getting into something that part of you is not comfortable with, which is why we're doing this song and dance in the first place. You're not your sister, Adrienne. I don't know what you think that 'beating' her is going to prove, but it's not going to turn out the way you think."

Okay, so he might have had a point. She might not have been completely comfortable with the idea of joining the inner court of the Hellfire Club as she'd originally intended some months ago, partly due to Amanda's opinion, partly because of what she knew about Manuel, and about Emma, about the Black Court and Sebastian Shaw. But she wasn't about to admit that to Garrison.

"Part of me is not comfortable because you're making me stay at a fucking Super Eight," Adrienne retorted, though her tone now held some of the playful snark she reserved for the people she'd gotten close to since coming to the mansion rather than the cold bitchiness she'd been employing since the ball field. She flopped back against the bed, trying to think of an answer to his question of what 'beating' Emma would actually prove. "Maybe you're right and I'm not my sister. Maybe I'm just doing what I've been doing my whole life," she said, staring at the ceiling of the ugly room. "Maybe it's not going to turn out the way I think. But maybe it won't turn out the way you think, either."

"I don't even pretend to know how it's going to turn out, Adrienne. But what it looks like is that you haven't bothered to ask yourself why you're doing this in the first place, which is why you tried to feed me that line about being a better person." Kane said, although some of the heat in his voice had died off. "I already know that you're a good person. Ethically skewed some of the time, but fundamentally decent. I'm willing to bet that's the reason you don't want to tell me the truth about what you're doing, because past all your bullshit about your sister and this feeling that you need to prove yourself by doing what she does better than her, there's part of you that doesn't think what you're planning is right."


Adrienne squirmed uncomfortably on the bed, still staring at the ceiling. "I don't think I like this fundamentally decent thing," she grumbled after a long silence. "What if people find out? I'd have to kill them to keep it a secret."

"Yeah, because I seem the type to believe that." Garrison pointed out. "Look, Adrienne. Maybe what you need to do is figure out what it is that you really want, as opposed to just reacting to all the crap you think you're due or need to measure up against, eh? Last I checked, running a major technology and defense company wasn't on your list of interests, but running a successful fashion company was. So who cares about what Emma has if you have what you want? Same with the Hellfire Club. I don't know the ins and outs of it, other than what's on the files at the mansion, but this is a place that you cultivate power by making personal sacrifices in exchange for status, control, and allies. If that's what you're looking at doing, what are you doing it for? What is it that you need power to achieve? What's your real goal that you're willing to go through the dangers that this entails to reach?"

Adrienne rolled her eyes. Why wouldn't Garrison just let this whole damn thing go? Yes, she was going to think about what he'd said, as she was thinking about what Amanda had said to her months ago about the Club, because she valued their opinions. But why did he seem to be pushing her so much? "What, were you a camp councillor in another life, or something?" she asked irritably, sitting up and focusing on him, but smiled when she spoke next.

"I appreciate the advice about the personal introspection, I really do, and I will do some, but I don't want to think about this now, Kane. I keep trying to joke about it and you just won't let it go. This weekend was supposed to be about watching baseball," she reminded him, tone changing to something pleading and wistful, "and getting sun and being away from business in all its forms, from dead husbands and rivals making power plays and fathers and killing Apocalypse and all of the shit. Can we please just drop the Hellfire Club? I'll admit I'll think about everything you've said. I will. But I don't have the answers for you right now."

It stung to admit that she didn't have answers for him, she didn't know what she really wanted anymore when it came to what she considered power, wasn't sure she could make the personal sacrifices the inner court of the club required. But his constant pushing wasn't going to make those answers come to her any faster, only push her into admitting something that she could possibly regret later for the simple sake of shutting him up, and she wasn't going to do that.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to push like that. It’s just your reaction has been a lot more strident than I was expecting, and I’m worried about you. That you might be getting yourself into something and don’t know how to ask for help to get out of or don’t think you can. That’s all.” Kane put up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’ll drop it if you will.”


The fact that he was worried about her made her squirm, and she was glad to let the subject drop. "I've been trying to drop it since you brought it up!" she retorted with an indignant snort, considering chucking something in Kane's general direction. Her features softened, however, and she gave him an appreciative smile. "I'm getting the 'ask for help' speech a lot lately. Who knows, one of these days when I'm in the situation where I find I need it, it might actually sink in." She nearly followed this up with a 'thanks for caring' line, but closed her mouth. It seemed lame. And like it would be squirm-worthy if she actually said it. "There aren't any lizards here to picnic on my ass while I sleep, are there?" she asked instead. "Because this seems like the sort of place where that could happen."

"You know, just because it's not a five star hotel doesn't mean it's a rat hole." Kane pointed out, a certain level of class pride sticking through. "Get some sleep. The pitchers start warming up early in the morning, and I want to catch the Doc before the rest of the gawkers show up."