1964-03-10 - You Still Hiring?
Summary: Ford calls to see if Elektra is still in need of a personal mechanic. She is!
Related: None
Theme Song: None
ford elektra 


Ford tried to time his call well. He wasn't exactly sure how late it would be when Elektra got back, but he suspected after 7 would be good. Surely she'd be back by then. Assuming she'd be in at all tonight. As 7 PM rolled around, Ford picked up the phone in his flat and dialed the Capitale, requesting for Ms. Natchio's room. Hopefully, she didn't ask them to ignore all calls from one Mr. Benett. And she'd be in…

He waited on the couch, tapping his fingers on the empty cushion next to him as he listened to it ring…

*

A few rings, he gets through to the front desk, and no, they could put him through. Several more rings and then the woman picks up the phone, her husky, accented voice echoing over the line, just a touch drowsy or perhaps a touch drunk. "Natchios."

*

Ford sighed a breath of relief as she picked up, before speaking up. "Elektra! It's me, Ford!" Realizing she might actually try to hang up, he leaned forward. "Wait wait! Hold on! Before you hang up, just… hear me out, would you? I've got a question, if you have the time…"

*

"…Uh…Ford. Alright. Why would I hang up? I suppose, if nothing else, I do…owe you for that night." Elektra begrudingly admits, her husky voice a quiet purr over the phone. He might be able to hear her picking up the phone from the table and bringing it over to somewhere. Then the sound of ice cubes dropping in a glass.

*

"Well, cause… last time, you threw me in the elevator and told me not to come back. So I didn't… I'm calling instead." Ford sat back, a little more relaxed as he listened to her, from the sound of it, get herself a drink. "Listen, ah… some things have changed for me recently. But, part of what prompted this call is that my garage, Tannenworth, was wrecked by this group of mutants… I mean, partially. Boss has told me he might be a bit behind on my next paycheck or two… which I know is BS, because I make him plenty- nevermind." Tannenworth… isn't that the name of that garage Elektra was spying on when those Trash gang members attacked? Which meant the fellow out in front of the whole mess was…
"Anyways, it's made me realize, I need myself a new job… so, uh… any chance you'd still be in need of a personal mechanic?"

*

The sound of pouring liquid, probably booze, but Elektra listens to him across the phone and sighs, "That's because you were being insufferable. A phone call is… acceptable." She half growls out, all danger and quiet threat behind her tone which she probably doesn't mean, but she's in a mood. She takes a sip of her drink and continues, "…A new job. And… I… could pay for a mechanic. I don't have a garage, though… where will you work?"

*

"Only because you told me it was dangerous after I mopped your floors with 14 of their scrawny bodies!" Ford retorted, before clearing his throat and cooling himself off. Remember, be professional. She might be your future boss, after all. "Anyways… regardless… uhm…" She didn't have a garage… that made things a bit more… complicated. "…I'll find a place. I'm sure. Just gotta shop around a bit."

*

A slight scoff of a laugh follows, "It IS dangerous. That hasn't changed. And, I mean, I have a garage to park it, but no… Rack, no tools, nothing for the fancy sort of work you do. But that's fine, I'm sure you will figure it out… 100 dollars a week for personalized work? Is that fair?"

*

Ford went silent on the other end for a moment at the mention of the pay. That… that caught him off guard a bit. He wasn't expecting /that/ much. Finally, though, he spoke up. "At 100 bucks a week, I can make any scenario you throw my way work. Screw the rack, I can pick the car up if need be. And I have my own tools I can use, so that's no problem. You've got a personal mechanic again! Thanks, Elektra. You're the best."

He paused a moment, sitting quietly on the other end before speaking again. "…so, uh… how's everything else been? I mean, you know, with all the… ninjas and stuff?"

*

"Then pick up the car on Wednesdays. I expect it back by Fridays. I will let you know if that schedule changes." ELektra wants her car for the weekend, it seems. She takes another long drink of her scotch, leaning back deeper in the chair at his other words. That makes her sigh a bit, "…I am still alive." She answers earnestly. If a bit… Disappointed?

*

"You got it, Ms. Natchio." Ford replied, saluting before realizing his gesture couldn't be seen over the phone. Awkward…

He took a moment to assess her response before speaking. "You don't sound too thrilled about that. Being alive, I mean…"

*

"It's complicated and I am a coward. But… needless to say, things have been quiet." Elektra explains curtly, her accented voice flat, just a touch cold. And bored. Ever so, completely, miserably bored. No wonder she took his phone call.

*

"That's good, right? I mean… they aren't actively trying to kill you now, right?" Ford wasn't really sure how the Hand operated, but he could sense the boredom in her voice. "Listen… you have my help, if you ever need it. You know that, right?"

*

"…I don't think you can give me the kind of help I quite need, Ford. But it's quite white knight of you to say so. You should find some nice girl to swoon at your feet when you sweep in and save the day. I'm sure it can't be too hard, it's a big city." Little does she know. She pours herself another glass of scotch.

*

"And what kind of help do you need, Elektra? Tell me, and I'll do what I can." Ford sighed, shaking his head. "Actually… I… kind of have, already. I mean… to be honest, she reminds me a lot of you. She tried to sway me off as well with talk of danger and enemies chasing her. But… well, I guess I'm attracted to danger. I like the challenge that comes with it, I suppose."

*

"Not help you can give me, Ford…Not help really…anyone can. Maybe a priest." Elektra half jokes, trying to make it sound light, but it isn't really. There is a weight behind those words no one should feel. And then she hears that information and an actually lighter chuckle crosses her lips. "Becoming an honest man, hmm? Well, good. I'm sure she'll keep you on your toes. Good luck with it. The worst thing in life is to be bored."

*

"…you're too down on yourself. You aren't bad, Elektra." Ford replied, genuinely worried for her. "I can't help you if you won't let me even try. You never know… I might be just what you need."

At the comment on his honesty, Ford smirked, shaking his head. "I imagine she will… she's from Colombia. Used to be a member of… what'd she call it? Fuerzas… Armadas… Revolucionarias de Colombia. FARC. Sounds like a nasty bunch. She's a mutant who can turn iron to gold. Apparently, they put her in a pit and barely kept her alive to try and fuel their efforts. Managed to get free and came here. So… yeah. A mutant, an illegal immigrant, and a potential Communist, all in one. I can certainly pick 'em, can't I?" He smirked a bit wider, laying out longways on the couch. "Not without her perks, though… she's a good cook. And you would not believe how flexible she is~" Yeah, that… that evens out making an enemy out of just about everyone…

*

That gets a deep groan. "Stop. Stop right there. I don't need to know how flexible your girlfriend is. Just be careful with her. Mutant and columbian? She'll kill you faster than I would, Ford. Anyway… Wednesday morning. Car is yours. I expect her to purr like never before. Understood?"

*
Ford was silent for a moment. But finally, he broke it. "…you really don't have faith that I can hold my own, do you? Against the Hand, or the troubles here, or… anything. Do you? …I won't be killed. I am too damn determined to see things through to the end to let the Grim Reaper catch me." Ford replied, sighing a bit. He sat quietly for a moment on that… she… really didn't have faith that he could keep things under control, did she? That wounded him a bit…
"…you know I will. You don't think I've been sitting on my laurels for the past 5 years, do you? You'll have it Friday and ready for… whatever it is you plan to do."

*

"No, Ford… I don't have faith that a single woman won't bore you within six months. You'll be going out of your mind in half a year and desperate to be fighting the Hand again, or the Gnuccis, or whatever trouble you can get yourself into. The issue with being a trouble addict, Ford, is that it eventually catches up to you. It always does. Trust me, I know…I'm a trouble addict too."

*

"You're wrong."
Ford left it at that for a little bit, huffing before speaking again. "You think I'm that irresponsible? That I can't go for a length of time without finding trouble? Trust me… this sh*t finds ME. But I won't be bested. I refuse to be. I'm no hero, I don't go out looking for this stuff. I just stand firm against."

Ford sat quietly for a moment, frowning over the phone, before shaking his head. "You know what your problem is? I mean, your real problem? You have no stability. No pillar to plant yourself near and get your bearings." Ford paused, shaking his head and sighing again. "…I don't know if you think you deserve to be alone. That you deserve all of this. That you're trying to make up for what you've done. But I know you don't deserve any of this… self inflicted torment." His tone started to shift a bit. Almost like a dad addressing a child. "Now… I will be here when you need me… because you will someday. But until then, I hope you find whatever fix you're looking for."

*

"…Pots and kettles, Ford… Pots and kettles." Elektra states casually, like he didn't just try to completely chastise her. She is hard to sway. "You know where to find the car. Enjoy your lady." *Click*. And off Elektra goes to being alone again. Alone and drinking, as she has done most of her nights in New York. It's still not made her sloppy enough to make a true mistake. Save the night he was there.

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