vicodincrutch | 098 Diagnosis

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098 Diagnosis

Filtered from Angela Montenegro + Dr. James Wilson;

<emeded video>

1. Watch it.
2. a. Come and collect your free lighter. Who doesn't like free?
b. Turn those suckers on when you see either one of the video's stars.
3. Send it to two other people.
4. IMPORTANT: It's a secret. Don't ask. Don't tell.

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They glow in the dark. One is a laser pointer. That's variety enough.

Waitress until your acting career takes off?

[Another space over and in brings her right up to the edge of the desk. The yellow lighter - plain as far as she can tell - stays in her hand, the fingers of her left tapping the business end of the thing against the palm of her right.]

I don't really see myself making too many movies.

[Claire leans to toss the yellow lighter back into the box with the rest of them. She sends a cursory glance over her shoulder as if she expects someone else to show up and save her from the situation, but she's the one who came when she didn't have to.]

What about you? Doctor until your career as a lighter salesman takes off? I don't want the glow in the dark or the laser pointer either, by the way.

[She refrains from holding her hand out but only just, as much as she manages to refrain from asking him why he offered in the first place.]

I'm a doctor here in case of people getting truly ill with conditions that are treatable.

[She makes an 'aaah' expression and sound, some moment of faux-revelation that faux-dawns on her as she picks up her souvenir and flips it open to reveal... a pen and a lighter, all in one. In some ways she's relieved, and in others she is a little disappointed that it isn't rigged to explode like one of those gag cans full of snakes. It occurs to her that now would be the perfect time to leave, would even be polite to leave. No comment, no question, no lingering in a situation she's still confused about being in in the first place, but Claire doesn't take the opportunity.

Instead, she flicks the pen end of the lighter out again, and tests to see that it works on the palm of her hand.]

So why offer in the first place? Why even mention it?

[Claire closes the pen again for emphasis.]

I can't do it on my own. And if everyone does it there's a greater effect. Don't start smoking because you have it. That decision is all yours.

That's not...

[Her unoccupied hand comes up to swipe at her forehead, rub lightly at her hairline before disappearing back into the long tangle of blonde falling over her shoulders. She's full of nervous habits, and she hates it, but at least the small snort she lets out does a decent job of covering in her eyes. All in all, Claire should've known better than to expect an honest answer. She wants it, and maybe she should press it, but she's presented all the pieces that she's willing to give with the door still at her back and so, for now, that will have to be good enough.]

... Exactly what I meant. [Another glance down at the lighter in her palm, at the thin black line running across the heel of her hand.] No promises I won't name you as an accomplice in all the arson I go on to commit.

What do you mean then?

I give lighters for a day, not ideas or motives.

[It's almost difficult to put it into words, and Claire almost wants to throw something at him because she has the distinct impression that he knows better, but she manages to hold that desire back.]

You went immediately from criticizing me to offering something better than the standard that was already being offered. You offered at all. Why?

[She has her own suspicious, but she also has her own doubts. As soon as the inquiry is out of her mouth, she immediately wants it back. Somehow stating outright what she thinks in front of him seems to require more courage than throwing herself off of any building ever has, and it's a strange thing to feel given how she typically reacts to him and how often she's promised to break his nose - whether behind his back or not - in the past.

Ever since Nathan's stint with the government, though, Claire has gotten better at faking confidence, and she tries her best at it now, crossing her arms and refusing to look away. There are several other questions that come to mind to sarcastically brush off her opinion, but she doesn't take them for once.]

Don't say it's just a lighter.

You argued your point very well. It was refreshing and thought out when usually the next step is insult in the face of challenge. That's something worth rewarding.

I think it's strange that Wilson is boozing it up with Angela.

[Claire can't decide if she's pleased or annoyed, and her shuffling over both of these reactions probably reflects well enough on her face that she lets it go completely. For a moment, she feels like she's being complimented by a teacher that she's hated long enough for it to be a surprise but resolutely doesn't suggest that he could have just given her a gold star. His next comment comes quickly enough, anyway, that to Claire it serves as an even greater surprise than his comment about picking the lighter up had been. She turns, just her shoulders and chest, as if she is actually going to look behind her again, but she is obviously the only other person in the room so there is nothing to be gained from it.]

Why do you think it's strange? [Claire doesn't know much of this collection of relationships, just what she's picked up and observed when she's paying more attention than she would like.] I'm not saying it's not - [She isn't saying it is.] - but just... why do you think so?

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098 Diagnosis

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide

sometimes a little step is the greatest divide