1964-02-25 - The Ego and the Elektra
Summary: After a night of drinking, Ford puts a drunk Elektra to bed and then finds out why she was drinking, having to fend off many Hand members. The next morning, they try to discuss it.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
elektra ford 

The Duck.

How long has it been since Ford visited this place? Had to be years now… and somehow, the health department hadn't gutted the darn thing in all that time. Though it looked as if the tables that were once here had been taken… or broken… or any myriad of things. At least they had the decency to make an effort at replacing them.

Ford ducked out of his powder blue car and stepped inside… before lowering himself to avoid the smoke inhalation, and actually see where he was going. Heading up to what remained of one of the bar stools, Ford plopped himself on it and took of his black leather jacket. Too hot for that anyways. "Gimme a tequila. On the rocks. Cube of sugar. Assuming the rodents left any." He smirked as he shook his head. The request rolled off the tongue like he never stopped ordering the drink. Used to drink this all the time. Last time he'd even been here was… years ago. Back when he was still working as a personal mechanic…
Any good mechanic would recognize the sound of the engine coming down the street a few minutes later. The rumbling purr of a perfectly cared for sports car — a Porsche 1964 to be exact, and the same car that came in second in that infamous race. Why it's being driven around here, who knows, but the engine idles and is shut off a few moments later, somewhere on this block.

It's only another handful of minutes that the door swings open, parting the fog of smoke, to emit another person to the room. The jukebox practically screeches to a halt as half a dozen pairs of eyes turn towards the woman who saunters her way in. Elektra came here back in the day, when she was a young idiot with college dreams and friends with a certain young law student. It was all he could afford. Now, she is alone, but revisiting old times, perhaps? She's still dressed far too expensive for the place, stilleto heels, designer slacks, a silk shirt, everything hugging every toned curve in every way it should. Someone wolf whistles in the corner and she tosses him a steely, dark eyed look before sauntering to the bar. "…Whisky, please… something… drinkable." Her accented voice offers to the bartender. If she notices Ford, she's pretending not to.
Ford blinked, hearing that familiar engine purr of the porsche pulling up. He recognized that engine… he heard it not a few days ago. At the street race! So, he was finally going to get to see who that car good and proper! He'd caught a brief glimpse, but at the time, his mind was more occupied with showing off than really trying to get a look at his competition. As Elektra enters, he doesn't turn around… not until the wolf whistle. That got him to look over his should for a moment…

His eyes went a bit wider.

Turning back quickly, Ford waited for his drink, listening to the voice speak in that familiar accent. He recognized it alright. Used to be the voice of his boss. A bit older, a bit huskier (in a good way), but that accent left no doubt to the mind. Which also meant something else… she was the owner of that porsche… SHE was the one driving that race!

How to play this? Cool? Friendly? Casual? Serious? Enigmatic? Swirling his drink a moment as the cube of sugar dissolved in it, he wondered if she even would recognize him. It'd been, what, 4 years? 5? He could tell by her accent, but he'd… definitely changed a lot himself. "…you're dressed awful high class to be slumming around a dump like this, aren't you, Miss…?"
While Elektra was a pretty face, a gorgeous face, really, she was also sharply intelligent. Which was the old saying about women? Sane, smart or beautiful. Pick two. There is little doubt as to which two comprise the being of Elektra Natchois. So, the voice that echoes in her direction, from a face she all too well recognized that strange night in the even stranger race, it makes her slightly turn her head with a crack of a smile to wine-dark lips. He gets a flash of her midnight eyes for a second, couched under too-lush lashes, and then she's looking back to the bartender.

"Come now… Did I not pay you enough over those years that you cannot remember my name? I am injured, Mr. Bennet… truly injured. Or perhaps you think your new found mechanical… genius… makes you too good for us lowly off-the-shelf car buyers?" Not that a Porche was an off the shelf car, but Elektra's was no where near custom as Ford's was. She accepts her whisky, bringing it to her nose for an experimental sniff, nose slightly wrinkled, before she just shoots the whole thing back and nods for another.
"Damn. I was hoping to pull a 'man of mystery' schtick there. Just too good-looking and recognizable, I guess." Ford bemoaned, taking a sip of his tequila before spinning on the chair. "It's been a while, Ms. Natchio… or do you still prefer 'Elektra'?" He smirked a bit more deviously. "Or, for old time's sake, 'Electric Nacho'?" It wasn't his fault! How was he supposed to read that chicken scratch on the employment sheet!? "…wouldn't happen to be 'Mrs. Natchio' by this point, would it?"

Leaning on the bar, he shook his head. "I'll admit, I have a few questions. Chief among them, where did you go? Last I heard, you'd up and headed east for parts unknown. Then again, they don't tell the 'low life mechanic' much. But I'm much to relieved and glad to see you back to give much a damn about the answers." He raised his glass her direction. "…genuinely good to see you again, Elektra. Had me worried for a while."
"…More so annoying… Like a splinter that gets under your skin. Not enough to do any damage, but it keeps poking and poking until you never forget it. So… yes, you are rather…Unforgettable." Elektra bandies back to him casually, though there is amusement behind her voice, the words meant to be truly teasing instead of hateful in any way. She picks up her second glass of whisky and raises it to him, taking a sip this time instead of a full shot. A few years of age have done lovely things to her, hardened her features some to give her this mature, dangerous look. Wisened her eyes.

"Elektra is more than fine. If you call me Elektra Nacho again, I will make that awful suit of yours purple." Because red blood plus blue suit equals purple, right? She gives him another amused smile and then turns fully back to her drink, giving him a view of her toned shoulder and long line of her back instead of her face. "And no. I am not a Mrs. Natchios either." She shakes her head in amusement about that thought. "I am fine. I had business abroad. I finished that business. It was nothing."
"Just like you are a bad, but catchy song. You don't want to like it, but god, it is impossible to get out of the brain. I would be remiss if I say how much I missed seeing you sway out the door~" Ford replied, taking another sip of his drink and chuckling as she quelled the notion of being Mrs. Natcio. "Aha! So there is still chance for me to fix that! One of these days, I will get you in that back seat, Elektra. Come hell or high water." At least he was optimistic.

He pondered asking what she was doing driving in a street race, but doing so would let slip that he was at the race as well. Best to not bring it up quiiiiiite yet. "Sounds much more interesting than what's been going on here. A whole lotta nothing." He paused. "Erm… that's not entirely true. Been plenty of mob activity. Fights. Drugs, I'm sure. Nothing on my street. I work in a garage near Mutant Town now. You would not believe how good that is for business. I swear, every day is a new car coming in toasted or wrecked by some poor kid discovering he has powers. Makes things very interesting." He ordered another drink as he finished off the current glass. "So, yeah. Saving New York one mechanic call at a time. You've probably had much more interesting tales to tell, though."
"Hmm.. You're as poor a liar as ever, Ford. I suppose it's a part of your charm — you wear both your heart AND your brain on your sleeve." Elektra's husky voice purrs out softly, still half amused and relaxing for the whisky which is now sinking through her veins and making her ever olive toned skin even more warm for the chilly New York winter. SHe takes another sip of the stuff before shifting her body just enough on her barstool that she can face him and watch his face as she speaks.

"Or is there another man wearing your suits and driving a car to match busy beating the pants off of the mob in New York? Maybe I was wrong." Elektra states casually, in a dead pan enough tone to say that she knows she's not wrong and it's really probably not worth challenging her. Yes, he might be trying to hide his involvement in the race but she clearly could care less. She almost sounds proud.
"To the point as ever, eh?" Ford asked, shaking his head again as he swirled his new drink. "Of course, you know that means you were at that race too… in fact, I think I smoked you on the last lap of it. I never really figured you to be a racer, you know? Considering how careful you were with your cars." He took another sip of his drink. "…s'pretty hot, actually."

Blunt as ever.

"Yeah, I get into a race with them from time to time. I'm sure it pisses them off and they'll be aching to get back at me, but… well, let's just say I would love to see them try. I'm more surprised you showed up. I know you like to take risks, but… you don't think it would be a bit… unflattering if folks learned a diplomat's daughter was bumping shoulders with the mob? It's one thing if a low life like me joins in… almost expected. But you..?" He sounds worried himself. Not really for her rep, but moreso for her own wellbeing. He knew firsthand that kind of behavior was dangerous. Their relation may have been professionally casual, but he still thought of her as a friend.
"Blunt as ever, Ford Bennet." Elektra echoes to him, the use of his full name more like some sort of seduction than a simple statement. No one can say a name the way Elektra does. She pulls full lips into a bit of a deeper smirk, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Her eyes are different. They are so much heavier than before. Tired. Deep down, she looks ever so tired. But she hides it behind a deep drink of her whisky, not even wincing at the burn. SHe's drank much harder things as of late.

"Cars… they are replaceable. Mine, at least. And now that I know a good mechanic, I think I care less… But the excitement? That is not. I needed something exciting. And you cheated in that race. I would have won if you had not cheated." She states firmly, her own ego quite assured by that fact. She then scoffs quietly as he comments about her being a diplomat's daughter. A rolling, cold shrug of her shoulders, "My father is dead. He does not care."
"Naturally. There is a whole lot of talking in circles as of late. Sometimes, you just have to out and say it. And you know I've never shied from that. You ever gave me the chance I would've dented a few cars hoods with your back on 'em." Good to know that regardless of time, space, or dimension, Ford's shallow perversion can be counted on as a universal constant.

"Cheated? I'm hurt. I even gave you the advantage of a head start. I just pulled off a trick I've been working on for a while now. Thought that would be a good chance to show it off. Had I known you were in the race… I would've made it look far cooler~" Even though he wanted to say more, a part of him paused. It was her eyes. She looked exhausted. Like something had been chasing her and she hasn't been able to rest easy. He even frowned a bit when she shrugged at his comment on her dad. "…sorry. Didn't mean to bring that up like that. Just… worried, is all. Considering how often I make a pass, least I could do is check in on you once in the blue." He had an inkling of what that was like, but then again, he dealt with that reality a little differently than she did. Come to think of it… had he ever brought up his parents around her? It always devolved to him discussing himself, but never his family.

He looked at his glass a moment, swirling it, but not drinking. "…look, ah… you look a bit tired. You need someone to take you home or… something? Anything? I mean… my flat is small… and a mess… but I can cook. Learned that over the past couple years. And it's down the street from work, so I wouldn't be far." He had to admit, it felt odd inviting a woman back to his place without the concession that she not have pants on while she was there. But… this was a special case. He didn't know what all she'd been through, but it was evident she needed some rest, maybe a good meal, someone to at least hear her out if needed. He doubted she would… but at least the offer was on the table. He wouldn't ask anything… just let her vent, if needed.
The woman looks very much about to protest, especially at his flirting and the insistence that he didn't cheat. Elektra turns and gives a slightly glaring look at him, "NO normal car can do that. You tricked it out, somehow, to be able to pull that off and I was impressed but that's still *cheating*. Do it to my car. I'll let you. I'll even PAY for it, and then we'll race and we will see." Elektra huffs, perhaps her ego a little more hurt than she would care to admit. But he quickly takes the wind out of her sails by being *nice*. She doesn't know how to handle him being nice. That was strange. She exhales quietly and looks away, almost trying to hide her eyes and the exhaustion behind them.

"…If this is some ploy to get me in your bed, it won't work. You are too young for a proper shag. I'd destroy you." Always her protests before too, but when someone is 20 is far different than when they are 25. Now, the age difference was negligable, really. But she falls back on the same old protest. "And I am fine. Simply jetlagged." A complete lie. She's been back in the states for weeks. She finishes off her whisky and more forcibly motions at the bartender for another. A woman her size is going to be lucky to walk after this many that fast.
"Oh come on. I have a little more class than /that/. If I wanted your pants off, I'd just ask. You should know by now. And too young? You and I are the same age, I think. And our professional relationship lasted " He frowned a bit as she ordered another, wondering if he should stop her… if that would do any good. She never listened to him… but then again, back then, she was the boss. Not anymore.

But when she insists she's simply jetlagged, his eyes lower to an unamused and unfooled expression. "Bullsh*t." He replied bluntly, taking a sip of his sugary tequila. "Elektra, lemme put it this way… I once stayed at work and ended up working until opening the next day, had to put in the full shift, and still stayed late before heading home. You look worse right now than I did after looking in the mirror. Something's wrong… I'm a mechanic, and I tell when something doesn't sound right under the hood." He took another sip, shaking his head before swallowing. "Look… I won't ask what it is. If I had to guess, it's about whatever you refuse to mention that happened overseas. I won't probe. I just want to make sure you get a good night's rest, because you look like you need it, and bad." He smiled, trying to prop her up with a bit of positive reinforcement. "C'mon… I just my hands on some proper cucumbers… I could make home-made tzatziki sauze and we can have gyros. I hear it's a Grecian favorite~" he asked, even properly pronouncing the sauce name correctly.

Almost impressive.
The woman is about to yell back at him, but then the bartender almost sees that it's going to be more quiet and safer for ALL of them if he just gives her another drink, shuts her up, and lets the man drag her out of here when she passes out flat on her face. So an even larger dose of whisky is put in front of her and Elektra grunts a thanks to the bartender, picking it up as Ford give her the most caring lecture she's heard in a long while. Somehow, it makes her look more tired. It also makes her eyes glimmer because ELektra can't really remember the last time someone showed her this amount of unselfish caring. She didn't know what to do with it. So, she slightly turns away, really trying not to let him see her face as she drinks and fights with that odd mix of emotions stinging behind her eyes and in her throat.

Finally, he's promised her food from home, her pants on, and her head is swimming with booze. She actually looks like she's about to give in, saying nothing for a long moment, but she then gives a drowsy shake of her head. "Ford… no… No. It's…not safe. No. I…I should go." And she knocks back the last of her booze, moving to stand abruptly, planning to escape the bar as fast as her feet will take her but her knees don't quite agree. SHe catches herself on the edge of the bar, swearing in Greek.
As soon as she gets up and begins to stumble, Ford is immediately up and at her side, catching onto her arm. "Hold up! Not on those legs, you aren't." Strange… it was almost too fast. As if, either he knew what was about to happen… or his speed let him keep up with his reflexes far faster than they should've. No… no, it had to be a trick of the booze. He was just expecting it is all…

"What are you talking about not safe? Look, I know I might be a bit… overbearing, but I'm not /that/ desperate to get in your pants." Ford replied, apparently genuinely a little hurt that she would think so low of him as to take advantage of her like that. "…look, fine, I won't press it. But at the very least, I'm driving you home. You are in no shape to be walking, much less directing a 1.38 ton mass of metal, gas, and moving parts." Curiously specific note on the weight. "Come on… let's get you home and into a bed. Pants on. You have my word. Honest."
As he jerks up and actually catches her almost before she falls, Elektra blinks back to him, just staring down into his handsome features for a few heartbeats. This is the first time in a long while that Elektra has touched a man she didn't plan on f*cking or killing. It almost felt nice. And she's still not steady enough to get to her car, much less drive it, so he's probably going to win that argument. But her eyes harden a bit as he comments about being unsafe, shaking her head almost too violently, "No, no…dammit…no…Not safe for *you*. There…there are things going on. Dangerous people… I… I don't want to get YOU in trouble, is all… J-just… just drive me to the Capitale. I can make it from there." Elektra mutters drowsily.

She then slips her arm around the back of his shoulders, his nose being met by her perfume. Oil, actually, none of it alcohol based. Black vanilla and sandalwood. Spicy, feminine… So very much Elektra. She leans slightly heavily on him as they move for her car.
Now Ford was really starting to get confused. Not safe for him? What in hell couldn't be safe for him? And more importantly, why was it after Elektra? Too many questions plagued his mind on the matter, but he knew she wasn't in much of a state to answer them coherently. "Ah… alright, alright. Let's just get you home." he relinquished, carrying her carefully to the door…. and trying hard to ignore the aroma she gave off. She always did have that quality about her… she smelled good. Not in an arousing sort of way, except sort of, but not in a 'take your pants off' kind of way. Something he just liked about it. Enticing, without necessarily being inviting.

Carrying her as gingerly to the door as he could, Ford looked around for the telltale red porsche, before spying it down the street. Guiding her to it, he walked through his intentions in his mind. Take her up, get her up to bed… stick around in her living room for the night. Probably make some breakfast for her before leaving. Hopefully before she got up. At least have some coffee ready for her. He could get back, get his car, head in for work. Shouldn't be an issue… hopefully.
He doesn't have to fully carry her, Elektra's feet still moving slowly, but she's put most of her weight on him. It's a trust that she doesn't have for many people, he's earned it somehow. Maybe because he worked on her cars and never put a bomb in any single one of them. She leaves a fifty on the bar, more than enough for their drinks, and then she's slipping out into the cool night air with him, taking a deeper breath of it. But her eyes go a bit wide, staring down the block, taking in every shadow like she was ready for something to jump out at both of them. Nothing is there. She exhales quietly, trying to calm her pulse.

"Fine…just… get me back. I can make it from the elevator. Wasn't… that much… booze." She lies, having drunk far more than she should have. At least, that quickly. SHe's a sloppy mess now and she could care less, but she stumbles along with him to her door, pawing keys out of her jacket and clicking the lock open before she spills into the passenger seat. At least he gets to drive her super sexy car.
Ford sighed and shook his head. And she said HE was a terrible liar… helping her to stumble to her car, he took a brief note of her fear at the darkness. He himself took a moment to study the darkness. As he laid her out in the passenger seat, he took a quick moment to reach over and flick on the headlights, trying to cut through the darkness a bit.

Normally, Ford would be a bit more stoked about driving a new expensive car, but the fact Elektra feared something was after her made him far more cautious. His concern was getting her safely home. Either hers or his. It didn't matter. He flipped the keys into the ignition and revved up the engine, pulling out into the street ahead.
No one and nothing yet. Just darkness. Shadows. But no movement. No cars following them. Everything is perfectly fine. Just ignore that strange sensationa that someone is watching. Surely it was just the paranoia in his head? The shadows are so still. There just seem more of them tonight. It's the clouds. The strange winter sky, no moon. Paranoia. Purely paranoia. Of course.

Elektra shifts over, half of her tempted just to go to sleep in the car. If he kept driving, it'd be safe. She wanted safety, right? Or maybe she wanted them to finish the job. She didn't know. But the booze and the safety of his presence was lulling her half to sleep. "…Just to the Capitale. In mid town. It's… not far. THey know me there. Leave the car with valet. I'll… pay your cab to get back. It'll be fine…" She mutters to him. In order to keep herself awake, she lazily grabs for the cigarellos in her glove box and cracks open a window, lighting one up.
Ford squinted at the dark shadows surrounding him and the car. Something just didn't feel right… he couldn't shake this feeling that something was tailing him, watching him. Them. Had to remember, he had a friend in the car. Everything was perfectly still…

In a city this busy, that felt off.

But so long as they were driving, they couldn't be caught. Right? "Mid town? Got it… perhaps not the best time, but you mind if I take the slightly scenic route? And don't worry about the elevator. I'll take you up. You should get a bit of rest, let that alcohol wear out of your system." As she lit up a smoke, he sighed, shaking his head. "You shouldn't smoke, you know… alcohol is bad enough. And with your gorgeous figure, that's sure to put a lot of tar in your lungs right quick." he commented. Oh dear… he was starting to sound like his mom. "Don't worry about how I'll get back. Just worry about yourself. You need to take care of you once in a while…" He paused, chuckling a bit. "But you're right. It will be fine. You have my word." He started to hum a favorite song of his as he drove, hoping perhaps a bit of music would lull her entirely to sleep. She needed it… and now, she had one hell of a bodyguard to keep any totally-not-there threats at bay.
«Insert Ninja scene if we can find log>

Elektra will likely wake up to the smell of eggs and some bacon being cooking in the kitchen area of her penthouse. Ford's trying his best to keep it quiet for her, but there is only so much one can do with hot oil and eggs and bacon. The sound of the toast popping out of the toaster might also contribute to waking her up. Either way, the smell or the sound of breakfast should be enough to entice the young lady to wake up and investigate. What she'll find is Ford, in just his white t shirt and blue jeans, standing at the stove top shifting the pan around to keep the eggs from burning as he slips toast onto a plate. Hopefully, she won't mind that he rummaged a bit through her ice box and cabinets.

Of course, if she just stays for a while, he'll eventually seek her out with a plate of food and a glass of OJ. "Well, good morning, sunshine! I take it you slept peacefully?" he asks, as if he didn't beat up a horde of ninjas last night and stay up to keep watch for more.


While the hangover isn't pleasant, the fact that Elektra actually slept for six hours straight did a ton for her, so she's not totally miserable. Still in her dress from last night, but at least her heels are off, Elektra gives a little moan and rolls over to her side. She's smelling the bacon and egg, her stomach rumbling hopefully. She then pushes herself up and carefully peels out of her dress, leaving her in just a black lace slip that BARELY covers the things that need covered. That's good enough. Long, bare legs and feet bring her slowly towards the kitchen, the headache wincing behind her eyes as she looks him over. "…Mm… you cook too? If you weren't such a womanizer, you might actually be worth it…" She mutters huskily, reaching for the plate. "…Coffee?"


Ford smirked as he slid the plate over: two eggs and a couple strips of bacon (laid out in an all too suggestive manner on the plate). "Yep. Have to. Yet to find a lady who'll do it for me." At her question about coffee, he nodded to the kettle brewing on the stove top. "Should be ready in a second." He replied, keeping the comments about her choice of attire to himself. Not that he didn't enjoy the sight. "And I /might/ be worth it? Sweet cheeks, I /am/ worth it~" Cracking another egg, he popped it into the pan along side some more bacon strips as he whistled. "So, you must've slept well. I heard you mention me a couple times, so must've been having a good dream~"


A firm smirk dances across her full lips, most of her lipstick gone from last night so they are their natural light wine, instead of the dark burgundy she often wears. She parades past him smelling like whisky and woman as she goes for the coffee cup, because that is more important than freshly cooked eggs right now. "Mm…if you are so worth it, then why haven't you found a woman to cook for you yet? And I suspect you were dreaming yourself. It takes a lot for me to call out a man's name." SHe bandies back huskily, as she pours herself a tall mug of coffee. Did he make it proper Greecian thick, or was it American weak?


"I guess I'm just too much for them to believe. They can't believe some like me can be real. Suspect there must be some kind of catch. There isn't, but you know what they say. Seems too good to be true…" Ford smirked as she poured herself some coffee. He'd used the grounds he found, which should be thick enough. Some where in between. He's added more for the American variety, but not quite to the Grecian thickness she probably likes. At least he tried. "You're welcome, by the way." For the drive home, the breakfast, or the ninjas? Only Ford knows.


The woman is quiet a few moments, the easy, flirtatious banter quickly cut by the fact that he said she was welcome, though Elektra hadn't actually gotten the gumption to say thank you yet. She sighs, looking down into her coffee for a few heartbeats as she pours and untoward amount of sugar into it, to help make that sweet, syrupy thick stuff she does like. Then she's coming back over to her eggs and the little sitting area where he stands. "…Thank you." She finally manages, even if it does hurt her own ego a bit. "You…didn't have to do that last night. I would have been fine to get home. That's what cabs are for…"


Ford smiled. Not his usual confident, cocky, or ever-victorious smirk, but about as close to a genuine grin as you'll get out of him. His focus is still on the eggs, but he responds just the same. "That was the point. Didn't have to say it. I know you are." He glanced at her quickly before shuffling the pan on the stove top. "I know I didn't, but you were… pretty liquored up. Kept going on about how dangerous it was for me to come back with you. You were… pretty insistent on that bit. So… I thought I'd prove how 'tough' I am by coming back and staying the whole night."


"It *was* dangerous, Ford. Is dangerous. You shouldn't be here now. You are a good mechanic. You are, apparently, an excellent driver. But you… you don't want involved in the mess that I've gotten involved in and I don't want you in it either. So, we shall share a nice morning, a brief coffee, and then it's much better for you if we never see each other again. Understood?" Elektra states quietly, her expression dead serious, a touch saddened, hollowly lonely. But she doesn't seem like she's going to be willing to budge about this. She actually seems rather worried for him, that he's here at all.


Ford sighed, shaking his head. "And miss your smiling face in the morning? You must be crazy." he replied flirtingly, nonchalantly. He'd seen the danger she was in. Now /he/ was the one not budging on the subject. "You were expecting something to happen last night, weren't you? Something bad, right? But, as you can see, it didn't. Perhaps I'm the good luck charm you've been looking for."

Ford placed the egg and bacon on another plate, turning to the table… and spotting a small metal star on the floor. OH SHOOT! How'd he miss that!? Moving quickly to grab the seat and place his foot over the star, Ford tried to play off his concern as he took a bite of his bacon. "Mmmm! I do do a good job, don't I?"


ROLL: Ford +rolls 1d10 for a result of: 7


ROLL: Elektra +rolls 1d10 for a result of: 5


It's not until he says 'it didn't', that Elektra suddenly is getting a sense that she's missed something. Her dark eyes narrow in his direction and she curls her long legs up onto the chair beneath her. She stares hard at him, silently, her lips pressed in a long line as she tries to read something off of his face. But it's not quite there right now, maybe she's too tired or maybe he's too good at lying, but she can't stick her finger on it. "…Just because nothing happened last night doesn't mean it's safe. i don't need a good luck charm. I don't need a man. I don't need a hero. So… as night as the eggs are this morning, when you are done eating, I'll call a car for you to bring you back to yours."


Ford felt his facade start to wane slightly as Elektra studied him hard. He could feel the beads of sweat start to form on his head as she looked at him. 'Please don't get a clue, please don't get a clue…' He let out a small sigh of relief as she broke off to talk about all she didn't need. But, he had a counter to that as well.
"Then how about a friend?" Ford asked, feeling a bit more secure about the star as he spoke.


That does make her hesitate, just a bit. Part of her could probably desperately use a friend, but it doesn't make it any less dangerous. Elektra, after a handful of heartbeats, just shakes her head slowly. "…As nice as you may seem… there are still dangerous matters. I would be a very poor friend if I brought you into my life and put you at that risk. I'm sorry, Ford. We… we shouldn't see each other again after today. It is just better. I will find another mechanic."


"No you won't." Ford replied bluntly, pausing in his eating. "You won't find another mechanic. You won't find anyone. You'll keep doing… this. Pushing everyone away until you're all alone. Thinking you have to face the world by yourself. Thinking you have to face everything without help. That it's the safest thing to do. That there's no other way. Am I right?" Ford laced his hands together, leaning on them as he looked back at Elektra. "Truth is, you're making yourself miserable. Vulnerable. You're trying to get rid of a necessity to keep yourself safe; someone to watch your back. Take it from me, that sh*t's hard. So I get it. Look, you may not want to tell me what's going on, who's after you, or why. I respect that. I'll let you keep your secrets."

He paused a moment to cut part of his egg and eat it before finishing. "But if you think I'm going to just give up and leave you to face things by yourself, than I am, quite frankly, insulted that you think so lowly of me. I might be a simple mechanic. A back street guy. Something of a thug, and most definitely a greaser. Certainly not as sophisticated as some of your high brow boyfriends, like, uh… what's his name? The one doing the Rand case right n- Murdock! I may not know law or have the riches, but I have integrity and at least some semblence of honor. So if you think that I'm gonna let you go this alone, sweet cheeks, you have one /hell/ of another thing coming."


The woman is dead silent for several long moments, not quite even looking at him, but playing with her eggs on her plate like a child would play with less than thrilling food. SHe stabs her fork through another set of eggs and brings it past her lips, eating at least. That's a start. She finally gives a very slow shake of her head, skepticism in her dark eyes, discomfort even deeper than before. "…Ford… please… Don't do this. What I wish to do with my life, alone or not, that is my business. Not yours. Let me handle this. I am no one to you. I used to buy your work, that it's. I am not lover, friend or family. Please… don't… Risk yourself like this. I promise you that I am NOT worth it. There are other women far more worth your good heart."


"You're wrong."

Ford set his silverware down and leaned on the table. "You don't know what you did for me back then." He grimaced, pausing a moment and inhaling before looking at the table. "…I've never told you about my mom, have I? Never really got the chance… by the time I was comfortable talking with you, it slipped my mind to mention it. But… she's sick. Has been for years now. She was sick before I started working for you. Back than, I was working… but the pay was sub-par. Nothing like what I got working for you. And my mom… needed help." He paused, inhaling a bit as he hesitated to continue. "…I was considering doing… terrible things to make ends meet. Mob work and the like. Just… something extra. So when I saw your ad requesting a good mechanic, I put my name in, but wasn't expecting much."

Ford lifted up his head again, smiling genuinely once more. "But you hired me. The pay was more than enough, and the bonuses you threw in went further than you know. So… I owe you twice. One for helping save my mom's life… and one for keeping me from treading into a bad life."


It's his commentary about a 'bad life' that makes Elektra look up from her foot and meet his eyes, more fierce than before. There is something more dead and hollow in her gaze than before, not exactly scared, but the woman who has accepted her damnation in life. She sets her fork down, coffee aside, and actually sits up straight enough that she looks as professional as possible as someone sleep tossled in nothing but a black satin slip. "Ford Bennett. I did not know about your mother and I'm sorry, but I promise you I…I did not pay you well out of some humanitarian effort. And if you walk into this life with me, then you are doing exactly the thing you have sought to avoid. I am a bad woman, Ford. I am a woman who will get you killed, and maybe your family. Please… Please. Don't fight me on this. For… your own sake. I'm the exact sort of person you don't want in your life."


Ford frowned back. He looked like he was about to say something. Fight her on the matter. But after a few moments of returning her gaze, he sighed, conceding the matter. "…fine. I get it. Sorry if I inconvenienced you or overstepped my bounds. I'll see myself out." As he finished his eggs, he pushed back from the table and leaned down, snatching the ninja star up in his hand and shaking it. "Sorry, I missed one. Take care." he said, not seeing much reason in hiding it at this point.


A sighing, quiet little groan escapes her lips as he lays the guilt on thick, Elektra's gaze rolling upwards. She finally sighs, "Fuck it, Ford…I'm a murderer. An… assassin. I've…killed so many people I've lost count. And trying to get out of it or not doesn't change the fact there are a lot of very dangerous people after me and that I'm still an awful person who probably deserves whatever comes to her. YOu do not. So… do with that as you please. Go to the cops, if you want… But walk out. It's better for you. It wasn't about you over stepping bounds, it was…" And then he comments about having missed one and he shows off that throwing star. Her eyes go a bit wide. "…what… in… How are you alive?"


"…huh. You think you know a woman." Ford said, taking the news that she was a mass killer… remarkably well! Then again, after the ninjas last night, he had a suspicion that she was in some /really/ deep stuff. "An assassin, huh? I guess that explains the ninjas a bit. So that would mean they're either old friends of yours… or people who would like to see you dead for that whole 'assassin' thing."

He seems to be taking this… very well!

Her question about the star gets him to spin it in his fingers a little. "Didn't hurt me. That's how. You think you're the only one who's picked up something in the past 5 years?" he asked. He put the star tip (still stained with whatever poison it had) on his thumb and the opposing two legs on his index and middle fingers, squeezing it. But, rather than pierce the skin like they should, the star crumples in half with a quick, high pitched grown of metal. "Yeah. Kicked their pajama'd asses while you slept like a log. I counted 14 by the time it was all over."


As he seems to take this ENTIRELY too well, Elektra's eyes harden just a bit more, discomfort in her olive features and a deeper frown across her lips. She stiffens just a bit more, sitting up straighter and trying to figure out why he's handling this so well. She could keep lying, keep pushing him off, but he's got that damned star and she really had no reason to lie much longer. "…Old… associates. They aren't happy I'm getting out of the business. Not in the least. I guess maybe I am their property, in a way… It's too late now. It'll end, one way or another." The tone of her voice says that much of her has accepted that it will probably end in her death, and she probably deserves that.

Then he's showing off his ability with that throwing star and her eyes widen even more. She stares hard at him, about to stop him from stabbing himself, she knows what that poison is, but nothing cuts his skin. She stares in shock, happy she put her coffee down because it would be dropped if she hadn't. "..W-what… You… fought… 14… of the Hand last night? WHAT?"


Ford smiled, shaking his head. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I knew you had to be up to something. Granted, I'm not /pleased/ that the girl I used to crush on has turned out to be a trained assassin, but it's not like I can do jack squat to change it, yeah? I learned a long time ago that getting mad about what has happened doesn't change that it's happened. SO, I can either accept you're an assassin, or I can't. But neither changes what you are. Especially not to me. Besides, if you're old associates are any indication, there really isn't much I have to fear from you. Trust me, you live in this city long enough, you see a /lot/ of out there stuff."

Her stunned reaction to his count makes him smile even wider. "Well, to be fair, it might have been more. I think it was about 10 in that room over there…" Ford nodded at the room he found the ninjas in originally. "And more came in through the window. 14 is just how many I dropped."


The woman's eyes narrow just a bit more at him, shocked, a touch impatient as well. "…Ford, don't you SEE why it'd be smarter for you to walk out now? When you thought you were just helping a lonely, innocent rich girl, fine. But now you know the truth. I am no one worth helping and you've already gotten a taste of the trouble. I don't want to give you more. Just because your skin is… tough… doesn't mean you can hold off the Hand forever. They will figure other ways to take you down. And… we're all more trained than you are. I promise you that." SHe doesn't quite stand up and challenge him. Not yet.


Ford seemed completely non-plussed by her warning. "The Hand? What kind of name is that? Might as well have a group of ninjas calling themselves The Foot. Have 'em fight… I dunno, mutant turtle ninjas, or something." Why did he have a sudden hankering for pizza?

But when she says she's not worth helping he looked at her a moment, leaned down and stared her right in the eyes. Just… staring. Silently studying for a moment. "…do you regret what you did? The killing, I mean? If you could take it all back, would you?"


That was not what she wanted him to ask. She's very good at lying when she doesn't care, but lying to someone who is actually good to her? That is harder. Elektra looks away, uncomfortably, trying to avoid his gaze as much as she possibly can, even if it means she needs to abruptly get up and shift away from him, walking to the window where she can smoke out of it. "…It doesn't matter, Ford. I did it. That's what matters. There is no taking it back."


"But if you /could/, would you?" Ford insisted. Her next answer would decide if he was willing to keep trying… he hoped she would answer yes.


The woman shuts her eyes quietly, body stiff, arms crossed tightly across her chest for a few heartbeats. She exhales quietly, fighting with her mind a few more moments. "…I told you I got out, didn't I? Or…I'm trying, at least."


A smile slowly crept across Ford's face as she spoke. It was enough for him. "Alright, then. The Hand are screwed. Might as well give up right now, because you just got yourself an ally they can't best."


A quiet curse in Greek from her, Elektra's eyes rolling to the ceiling. "I should have told you no. I did not ask for your help, Ford. I do not want it. You think I hate myself now? If I got you killed, I… I would not be able to live with myself. Please. I am begging you… I… Appreciate the help. The back up. The fight. But this is bigger than you can imagine and I am begging you to walk out and not look back!"


"But you didn't~" Ford replied, folding his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to one side, smiling at her. She was awfully insistent that he leave. Very well, then. "Okay, Elektra. You want me to leave? Make me." He tilted his head to one side, smirking as he did. "All I hear from you is about how big and bad this Hand is. But if what I fought last night is any indication, you are either wildly over-exaggerting… or underestimating me. So, why not put your claim to the test? You used to be part of the Hand, yeah? And I would guess, given how badly they want you back, one of their better members. So, if you can get me into that elevator out there, or out of this penthouse at all, I will concede your point, and never come back."

He raised a finger, smiling wider. "Buuuuut, if you can't… I stick around and help you knock the oversized longjohns off these Hand cronies. Oh, and you owe me a kiss~"


A little groan escapes her lips, Elektra just shaking her head, "…You asked for it." Which, he did. And then, suddenly, she's moving. She is fast. Almost inhumanly so. Not fast as him and his ego, but there is no doubt that this woman could be a world class assassin. The attack is made to be distracting and quick, going for his arms first, and then to sweet his feet out from under him. She already acknowledges she probably won't be able to knock him out, but she certainly can use his weight against him to get him back towards the door.


Ford smirked, watching her move close and strike at him. He half-expected some kind of throw - he knew he only weighed as much as a normal human - but he had to admit, she was quick and calculating. He could believe she was a top notch slayer of men. But therein lied his advantage: she was underestimating him. True, he was not quick or precise as she was… but he didn't need to be. She was no doubt used to fighting people who came at her with martial arts or hidden techniques or intrigue and guile. Ford had none of that… a fact he aimed to make use of.

Letting her grab him and swing him to the floor, Ford smirked and swung his legs around in a sweeping motion. Very telegraphed. Very easy to dodge. And he was counting on that. Instead, he aimed to kick off the floor and pushed himself backwards and onto his feet, before taking off at impossible speeds to the other corner of the room. If she played how he thought she would, he could keep his distance and avoid her direct attacks.


It's a ridiculous fight, that much is true. Elektra's frustration is in the fact that the ONLY advantage he actually has on her is the fact that he's super human fast and she's just on the edge of super human fast. So, she cannot quite catch him. There's swinging arms, legs, kicks, and meanwhile he's roadrunnering all around her apartment. She gives a deep sigh, finally, "…Dammit…fine. Come here. Your kiss…" Elektra insists, though she's suspiciously only a few feet from the elevator. And she does, indeed, give him his kiss. Deeper than he might have expected. And she's DAMN good at kissing. But then he's suddenly being swept off his feet, literally, and into the elevator. Devious woman. She hits the lever, it movign to shut on him. "You promised! No coming back!"

Ford smirked as she finally seemed to be giving in… and giving him his reward! But sadly, his enjoying was his undoing, with Elektra throwing him into the elevator and shutting it on him. Having no time to get back on his feet, Ford sighed as the door closed and she called for him to not come back. Getting up, he shook his head and adjusted his clothes, grimacing. "Sorry, Elektra… you should know by now I'm a good liar." Eyeing the bellhop, he smirked, smoothing his hair back. "She totally digs me. Ground floor, please?"

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