2019-05-21 - Sending A Message

Felix sits behind the desk in his office, elbow on the surface and his chin at rest on his knuckles, forefinger pressing into his temple. He is going over a few ledgers of some sort, and has made Graham wait for several minutes after the 'appointed' time. Though, finally, at some point: "Andre. Bring him in."

The office door swings open, and there's Andre in all his smiling glory. "Heya Graham," he waves a big arm through. "Boss says he can see you now."

Are people allowed to smoke inside clubs in Washington? Probably not. So Graham only smokes in the back room. Where he disabled all smoke detectors. He crushes out his cigarette when the door swings open, blowing out the last drag into the air at the bottom of the steps before he trots up them. "Thanks," he tells Andre, dredging up a quick smile for the guy. It's not Andre's fault everything went sideways.

Or. Actually. If his Tinder profile had been more enticing, maybe none of this would have happened...

No, let's go back to: it's not Andre's fault.

Graham steps into the office with an appropriate, "Evening, boss."

Andre will never know what's going through Graham's head. He's happy tonight because: "I got a date," he whispers to Graham before he's fully in the office. "She sells bubble wands at the park to the kids." Maybe Graham was RIGHT! Maybe this was all Andre's fault. Either way, the big lug closes the door behind them and locks them in Felix's office, while he settles with his back against the door and folds his arms. But Graham gets a thumb's up! You got this.

Felix flicks a glance upward from his paperwork, dropping his hand down to the desk. It makes a quiet 'thunk', followed by the steady rhythmic knocking of of fingers steadily tapping against the wood grain. It's a gesture that suggests Felix doesn't have all day, Graham, so quit with the pleasantries. "Have a seat. Andre, get Graham a drink."

"That's an amaz - " Graham doesn't finish that thought, the one about the amazing job that Andre's date has, 'cause quit with the pleasantries. He just scuttles right on over to that seat where he's been told to sit, and he asks Andre for a drink even though he doesn't want one. Nothing fancy, though, 'cause it's Andre. "Just a whiskey'll work, thanks."

He's not enjoying being in this chair. Most of the time, he can pretend to be enjoying something even if he's really really not, but he winds up shifting between several postures that just don't... fit... right... in this chair. Felix intentionally picked shitty uncomfortable chairs, didn't he? Arms crossed looks too confrontational; hands folded looks too childish; ankle crossed over his knee looks too comfortable. Eventually, he settles with both feet on the ground and both hands on the arm of his chair. There. "Thanks for seeing me."

It's a shame that Graham's not on this side of the desk. Felix's chair is incredibly comfortable, the kind of chair you can just sink right into. But Felix doesn't. He remains at ease, but the tap-tap-tapping of fingers on the desk is becoming hurried. "Hmm," replies Felix of the pleasantries, a brow climbing. "Of course." There's no thank-yous for Andre as he drops off glasses of whisky and retreats to the door; Felix's attention is wholly on Graham and his discomfort. He asked for this. He specifically requested a meeting. So... "Get on with it."

Not out loud, but Graham glances at Andre to convey his thanks, man. The glass that he didn't really want helps, anyway. It gives one hand something to do, hold, lift, sip, lower. He exhales across his teeth, whiskey is gross, and then gets on with it. "Lukas Collins fucked with my family. He got into a fight with my - " BFF? That term doesn't seem like it's gonna fly. Fuck it. " - best friend. And he threw a brick through my front window. I gotta do something about it." And need Felix's permission, that's how all this works.

The tapping ceases the second actual words come out of Graham's mouth. Felix's hand instead slides to the whiskey tumbler, a single brow hiking once more at the family thing. "Hmm," he leans back into his chair, frowning around the glass. "And which family member of yours did he .. 'fuck' with, exactly?" There's no actual air quotes, but they are verbalized.

"Elise Kruger." Listen, Felix! Maybe that's her married name! It's not a con, so Graham doesn't clarify with some elaborate back-story. He just answers the question that he's been asked and leaves it there.

It's damn unfortunate that Graham won't see the subtle twitch of Felix's mouth; his expression remains otherwise wholly neutral. "Elise Kruger," he repeats, his tone flat. "I see." He leans forward and sets his cup on the desk, the whiskey barely touched. "How is it you're related to Miss Kruger?" It's a simple question, Graham.

.. "And what did Lukas Collins do to her, precisely?" Felix inquires further.

If it's a simple question, then it deserves a simple answer: "By choice." Graham knows, Felix. Roll all day long, but he fucking knows knows how this shit works. "He assaulted her in his car, then he threw a brick through the window of our house. Called her a chink whore." Or was it slut? He forgets.

"Interesting," Felix replies. Though, whether he thinks it's 'interesting' that they are family by choice, or 'interesting' that Lukas Collins attempted to assault this poor chink slut-whore, who knows. "What is it Elise Kruger does for a living, Graham?" It's oh-so-casually asked. His expression is but a mask. "How long have the two of you been living together?"

"She's a nurse." This conversation sucks. Graham does not like the direction that it's going, and he looks into the whiskey glass for some kind of inspiration, turning it loosely with a roll of his wrist as if he could, by extension, turn the conversation in some other direction. He looks from it to Felix and answers the second question with at least a little more detail, "Since I got back to town. It's always been like that, since we were kids. That's why I can't just let it go." See?

"Hmm. At the hospital?" Felix will wait for the confirming nod that he just knows is coming, before he continues on. "I don't usually get involved in .. domestic disputes, Graham." A pause. "Though I do hope your girlfriend is all right." Because Felix isn't going to mince words. Or maybe he doesn't think that you live with a 'chink whore' and not fuck her? Either way, continuing on. "Still..." He leans back and considers Graham for what may feel like five hours. "What is it that you want to do, to Lukas?"

"Yes." At the hospital. QUIT ASKING QUESTIONS YOU MALEVOLENT HIGH-STATTED FUCK.

Graham doesn't clarify the girlfriend situation. That's just way too much to explain. "Thank you," for the well-wishes. His heart is warmed. He sips more whiskey and exhales across his teeth again, suffering through long consideration with the same lack of composure that he had earlier: he's uncomfortable; MOST people don't get to see that, but it shows in the fact that he's drinking that whiskey at all, and in the way he keeps looking around Felix's face but not directly at his eyes.

"I was thinking beat him with a brick. Not to death, but at least a few broken bones. Definitely some teeth. Just get the jump on him," he glances Andre-wards, "and fuck him up, send a message."

"Hmm," replies Felix, who shows no emotion whatsoever. Instead, he slides forward and retrieves the cup from the desk, the clink of the ice-cube the only sound for the time being. He keeps his eyes on Graham, steady and ever-present, a gaze that carries so much weight with it. And as he stares, he reclines back, enjoying the full glass of whiskey in utter silence.

It is going to be a long couple of minutes. But Graham will wait. Assuming he knows what's good for him.

Once the glass is empty, Felix will roll it in his fingers. "When is Miss Kruger's next shift at the hospital?"

Graham knows what's good for him. Graham waits. This whiskey gets finished in the meantime, and he winds up turning the glass by its rim, base settled on the arm of the chair. Round and round and round, silently, marking the time. He's only twenty-five, so sitting here, doing nothing, and not even taking out his phone? Is goddamn excruciating, Felix.

He may not like the question, hence the furrow that chases its way across his brows, but he answers it anyway. "Tomorrow."

There's a small nod, and a disarming smile. "Family does mean so much, doesn't it, Graham?" It's not a question that requires an answer. He sets the empty glass down and leans back into his chair. "I think Mister Collins overstepped a boundary," and no one oversteps boundaries. Unless you are Felix. He flicks his eyes up to Andre, who snaps to attention. "Andre, you'll assist Graham tomorrow with picking up Lukas Collins and bringing him to the warehouse."

Andre gives a resounding: "Yes sir, boss sir."

And then Felix's gaze falls back onto Graham. "That is as far as Andre will go. I assume you can find your own brick?" Normal people would smile. Felix just continues on: "And once you're done reminding Mister Collins to stay in his lane, you can deposit him off at the hospital. I'll take care of the bills. Assuming, of course.." There's a dramatic pause. ".. His care is adequate."

Before they move on... Graham needs to ask a quick, clarifying question. Yes, he'll take his fucking chances: "Sorry, are you saying Elise is supposed to be this guy's nurse or...?" He should be able to figure this out, but yeah. He's off his game.

"Mmm.." Felix twitches, but it's just barely perceptible. It's just enough to let Graham know that he doesn't like being questioned. "What I am saying, Graham, is that I will be ensuring a loyal employee is given the very best medical care available to him after an unfortunate accident." With a brick to the face. "Would you not want the same, Graham? Or maybe you are suggesting that Miss Kruger is a terrible nurse."

Graham shouldn't mention the really bad Medicine roll then, huh?

"I just don't know if I can ask her to patch up some guy that called her a chink whore, boss." Graham is so many kinds of sorry that this conversation isn't over, the corners of his eyes tightening, the furrow staying place in between his brows, forehead pulling down into a dismayed rumple. "He's not gonna talk to anybody anyway," with his jaw all broken, "so can't I just leave him to whatever doctor there is?" Like the wee shrimpy one, that guy probably never fails his rolls!

"I understand," Felix says in a way that suggests that he doesn't actually care. "But that is the point, isn't it? Can Miss Kruger patch someone up that she doesn't.. particularly care for?" He lifts a brow. "I suppose we'll see." He doesn't answer the other question, because he's already made his point. "Tomorrow then, Andre. You can show Graham out now." Though, before Graham gets out of his chair, Felix offers him another small smile. "I do hope your girlfriend makes the right choice tomorrow, Graham. It would be in her best interest." A pause. "And in her father's best interest, as well. He isn't doing so well, I heard."

Graham leans forward in his chair, the glass held between his knees for a second, and he pauses just in the process of rising - like, for the smallest of moments, he contemplates trying to talk Felix out of this. But then he thinks the wiser of it, and he nods faintly from that arrested gesture, finishing it and getting to his feet. "All right. Thank you." For permission to beat a guy with a brick and then make him into a problem for the very person whose problem he's trying to solve here. Fucking fuckity fuck, man. "Yeah, he's been better. I'll - " Look grim rather than smile. " - talk to her."

Talk to her? "There's no need for that," Felix suggests. Warns, perhaps. "She's a big girl, mm? Can make her own decisions. Who to help, who not to help.." He shrugs his shoulders. "She'll do the right thing." A pause. "Or she won't. And then I'll give someone else permission to beat her with a brick and you can watch."

"Got it." Graham's still going to talk to her, dude. <.< He just doesn't share that information again, especially not while horrible thoughts play out behind his eyes for a second at the suggestions that Felix just planted. He presses his eyes closed momentarily, then lifts the glass that he'd been drinking whiskey from. He'll take this down to the bar and see that it gets washed, no worries. "Thanks again for your time, boss. I appreciate it."

Felix says nothing else. He just goes back to his paperwork. But Andre happily swings a big arm around Graham, pulling him into a squishy hug as he escorts him out of the office. "We're going to have so much fun tomorrow!" he says as the door to Felix's office swings shut.

"Thanks, man." Graham gets SQUOOSHED into that hug and - ngl - kind of feels a little bit better afterward. If only he had a bubble wand, surely all would be right with the world!

And that's how Graham learned a valuable lesson: it's easier to ask for forgiveness than persmission.