ArchivedLogs:Information Leak
Information Leak | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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Sunday, 17 March 2013 Eric delivers a heads-up. |
Location
<NYC> Home - Greenwich Village | |
Nestled into the heart of the Village, Home is an unobtrusive place, with an unobtrusive name to match. A nondescript storefront opens up into an equally nondescript cafe, plain tiled floors, an assortment of veneered tables with plain wooden chairs or booths with cracking vinyl benches. What it /does/ have to recommend it is the food, hearty solid breakfast and brunch served twenty-four hours a day. Known to locals and little frequented by tourists, its friendly serving staff tend to remember their regulars, giving the place a warm feel that lives up to its name. As the sun starts its descent from the highest point in the sky, Eric sits in one of the cracked benches at a booth, relaxing. Menus and settings are laid out for three, his seat and two plates across from him, though his companions are nowhere to be seen. He has a cup of coffee from which he takes several sips from as he waits, phone in the other hand as he plays some stupid game. Furious Eagles, or something similarly droll. His companions arrive in tandem. Of /course/ they arrive in tandem. Shane is dressed neat-proper, dark slacks, dark button-down, pale vest; he holds the door open for his brother as they slip into the diner. He's looking around but only cursorily, with a familiarity that suggests it isn't his first time here; upon noting Eric, he pokes at Sebastian, hooking his hand into the crook of his brother's arm to drag him off towards the booth and slide in opposite the police officer. He leans across the table to /take/ Eric's coffee. Sebastian is more hesitant in his entrance, head ducked beneath the pony-eared hood of his Fluttershy sweatshirt and his eyes scanning the room nervously. He follows, though, slipping into the booth to sit perched straight-backed on the edge of the bench. "Hi," he offers, quiet and with a hint of a frown. "Um, why -- are we here?" "Free food," Shane answers for Eric. Eric opens his mouth to object, then sighs and looks down at his menu. "I'll just get another," he murmurs, sounding equal parts bemused and tired. He glances between Shane and Sebastian as he is questioned and answered, shaking his head. "Because I needed t' talk to you." he looks between the two of them. "Your Pa has pissed some people off right well, I think. I've heard some rumblin's about an investigation about... several people in your building. Your Pa is one of them. Drug teams, immigration... OCFS." "You met my Pa?" Shane says with a /snort/, "how could he possibly piss anyone off, he's like the sweetest --" "-- He did castrate Eric," Sebastian points out quietly. He doesn't entirely sound like he /disapproves/ of this, though. He's -- just saying. "I'm getting an omelette," Shane announces. "Ham and sausage and black beans and chicken. Who'd he piss off?" He glances up from Eric's coffee to look at Eric curiously. "Who else in the building?" Sebastian wants to know. His fingers rest on his menu, but he doesn't open it. "-- Investigation? That ticket's the biggest problem Pa's ever had with the law." "I don't know who he pissed off, but it's someone with strings. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen government agencies coordinate things without turf wars, and this is one of them." Eric says, opening the menu and looking over it himself. "I don't know names. Hard enough to even get the information I've got." he says, shrugging thick shoulders once, non-committal. "This isn't the ticket. The brass wants that to go away. This... this is public and messy." Shane's bright-grin smile fades, here, but then, it has been a rather /brittle/ insincere thing all the while. He shifts his weight to one side to lean a shoulder up against his brother, his gills flickering once restlessly. "Someone with strings," he says, a little more tired. "I mean, shit. You know when any of this is happening?" "-- Drug teams?" Sebastian asks this with a slight frown. "But Pa never --" His teeth drag against his lip. "OCFS?" "Not sure. The detectives don't usually tell ESU about drug raids until fairly close to when they're about to happen because of the fear of leaking it out of the department." Eric gives a little smile and he winks. "Quite rightly, it seems." He quickly grows more serious as he glances down to his menu. "Office of Children and Family Services. My guess is, that's the two of you." "No, we know what it is," Shane says, and his frown is deepening. "Spencer, too," Sebastian murmurs quietly to his brother. Shane's gills flutter again. "-- But what can they do? He's been an awesome dad. The adoption process is kinda started already. I mean." /Frown/. "Why are you telling us?" Sebastian wants to know. He looks at Eric, and then finally opens his menu to look it over, too. "A friend asked me to keep an eye out for you. And... I know a lawyer who owes me a favor and can help speed that process along. But before I tell her to get in touch with your Pa, I wanted to make sure... that was what you guys wanted." Eric says, eyes flicking between the two teenagers. "God knows I wouldn't'a've wanted some lawyer coming in to talk to my Ma." He sets his menu down on the table, glancing around for a waitress. "A friend?" Shane's brows raise at this. "Who? Why?" Sebastian shrugs a shoulder, a little stiffly. "I mean, I don't /want/ some lawyer coming in to meddle but I --" "-- Don't want to have to leave, either," Shane finishes for him. "Pa is great. He's always been great. You'd have to be a fucking idiot to think he's anything other than great." "Yeah," Sebastian says, softer and a little bit concerned. "Are they going to, um, take us -- away?" "A PI who your Pa knows. Don't think you've ever met him." Eric gives another little shrug, and quiets as a waitress approaches to take their orders. He gives his own - a full order of french toast with bacon and eggs, a coffee, and an orange juice - and then pauses for both twins to make their orders in turn. Once the waitress has left, he picks up where he left off. "I don't know, Sebastian. That depends on what they find, and how much pull whoever this is has with OCFS. They tend to be fairly independent, but...." he trails off. Shane orders his omelette. As stated. With a side of bacon. /And/ a side of sausage even though the omelette has sausage in it. And a refill on coffee -- okay, probably they are just getting a pot. Also a cranberry juice. "What they find, what the shit, like I said, Pa's --" But this breaks off abruptly into just a /look/ towards his brother. His blue skin is managing to drain itself of colour. Sebastian is looking back at Shane, once he makes his order (green eggs and ham! With a side of sausages, too. Orange juice.) He has a similarly discomfited expression, once he meets Shane's eyes. He swallows. His gills flutter rapidly, and he says nothing. Eric looks between the two teenagers and frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. "It seems like you just came to some kind of realization." he points out, dryly. "He's completely innocent, except for his couch is made of cocaine?" he says, lightly. He pauses for several seconds. "I wanted to make sure it was alri' with you before I gave the lawyer's information to Jax." he explains. "What do you two think?" "He's a good man," Shane says, uncomfortably. "Not everyone likes good men," Sebastian adds, tired. Now /he/ shifts his weight, leaning back into Shane. "He might could use a lawyer. S'it that Parsley chick?" Shane frowns, considering. "She gave Rasa her card --" "/Basil/," Sebastian corrects, patiently. "You said she didn't make you comfortable." "She was /poking/. I don't like people poking, he gets poked enough. Who's this PI?" Shane is back to looking at Eric. "No. It's an ex-prosecutor who works for a giant multinational law firm doing criminal defense work." Eric says, one corner of his lips twitching upwards into a smile. "The name I got referred to when I asked one of the ADAs who they least liked going up against in court. I spoke with her and..." he trails off, eyes twinkling. "She's willing to do some pro se work." "Spoke with her," Shane says, and here his lips twitch; the smile doesn't quite chase the worry from his expression, but at least it's a smile. "Yeah, I'll bet you did." Sebastian shifts uncomfortably at this. "Who else are they coming for?" He glances up as their food arrives, but doesn't look particularly eager to /eat/. He does thank the waitress, though, polite, even as he is retreating further beneath his hood. "I mean, you said there were other things. Drug raids. Immigration. /We/ haven't had problems with those things." Shane -- /grimaces/. Eric's eyes twinkle and he winks, once, at Shane. "Yeah, I did." He leans back in his chair and shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. Other people in your building, but ESU doesn't get to know the names. Just where they need to be." he says, softly. "They could just be involving everyone to try and cast as wide a net as possible and find something that can stick. Or maybe not." "It's harassment," Shane says, sounding Pretty Sure of this. "Motherfuckers," is a quieter grumble. /He/ at least has no appetite problems, though. He grabs his plate(s) and digs in, dumping all the sides of meat atop the omelette to mix it all together. Also down the rest of Eric's coffee so he can refill it from the new pot. "-- You talk to her for us?" he wants to know then, a little quieter but a little more curious. "Or cuz your friend asked you to look into it?" Sebastian picks at his food in a desultory kind of way. Pick. Pickpick nibble. "Yeah," is all he volunteers, softly. "Pa should talk to a lawyer." "You both, too. It's as much about you proving that you can choose and choose him as it is him choosing that he's good enough." Eric says, avoiding Shane's question by shoving some of the french toast into his mouth, hungrily. Chew, chew, swallow. "Yeah, it is harassment. As I said, he pissed someone off, so, now they're pissing /on/ him." He takes a sip of his juice and glances around the diner. "Alright. I've got her business card, and she's expecting Jax's call." He gives Shane, then Sebastian, a tight little smile. Shane puts his fork down from his hungry devouring of eggs-and-meats. He studies Eric's face a moment, something briefly passing, troubled, across his expression. "{Do you think they'll really --}" he starts, in quiet Vietnamese to Sebastian, but then looks down at his plate. "You didn't answer," he tells Eric, a smirk that doesn't quiiite reach his eyes curling onto his lips. "{Yes.}" That's all Sebastian says. He reaches over to spear a bit of omelette, but then returns to his /own/ well-herbed eggs. "{He answered,}" he adds, though, /his/ smile a little more genuine. It doesn't last, though. It fades almost as soon as he actually looks up at Eric, shifting into something nooot quite comfortable. Eric gives Shane a dirty look, lips quirking into a faint smile. He glances between the two of them. "Is that an actual language, or do the two of you just have one of those twin languages you hear about on the radio?" he says, deliberately still not answering Shane's question. Quick, topic change, as he completely inconspicously shoves more toast into his mouth. "We invented it," Shane says, even as Sebastian says, "Vietnamese." Now it's Sebastian who leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You didn't answer him," he says, and it still doesn't sound /entirely/ comfortable but there's a brief twitch of smile at his lips. That fades, /quickly/. "My friend asked me. Don't'ya go getting the wrong idea - I wouldn't'a done it if it wasn't for him." Eric says, his accent getting thicker as he shifts awkwardly in his booth seat. "But..." he glances between Shane and Sebastian, and a half-smile tugs at his lips. "Well, you're a good guy, and I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to ya'." He says this directly to Sebastian - pointedly to Sebastian. Shane gets a wolfish smile and a wink. "I dunno 'bout your brother, though." "Yeah, his brother's a mess." Shane returns to eating, rather quickly, now, scarfing down the food in quick chomps of sharp teeth. "He's a good guy, though. Be a shame if -- shit," he says, "we should probably get home. Catch Pa before he scuttles off again." "Pa and everyone else," Sebastian says, his frown worried. "Like what if they /deport/ -- I mean they can't do that, right?" "They can do a lot." Shane shrugs. "You got that lawyer's number on you now, dude?" "He is a mess indeed. Doesn't look Vietnamese either," Eric drawls, eyes twinkling. He takes another quick few bites of his french toast and then drains the glass of orange juice. "I do. You want me to call her now?" he asks, raising one eyebrow. His hands pat down his chest pockets, then the pockets at either side, before drawing out a somewhat worn business card. "Yeah, I /know/," Shane says, with a deliberate sideways blink of clear inner eyelids, "it's the gills, isn't it, they're totally caucasian." Sebastian just facescrubs. SCRUB. His palm digs in against one jet-black eye. "We should get home now," he says, returning to wolfing down the food. "Is that like a turnoff? Blue's alright but man those fucking slanty eyes get you every time yeah?" Shane blinks again. This time with both sets of eyelids! Eric laughs and shakes his head, eyes twinkling. "I don't know about a turn-off." A beat. "Besides, where it really counts, you might as well be black." he says, pointedly looking at where Shane's crotch would be if the table was not in the way. His smile turns into a grin, and he raises his hand to flag down the waitress. "Should I give her a call now?" Shane's grin spreads wider. Bright. Toothy. Sebastian's gills flutter, and he flushes abruptly, skin tinting near to purple with his sudden blush. He wolfs the last of his food, gulps down his juice, and grabs Shane by the elbow to /drag/ him out of the bench. "We're going," he says. "Now." Shane's grin has not faded. "We're going now," he relays to Eric obediently, as though Sebastian didn't just say that. "I guess that tells me something about you, too, 'Bastian." Eric drawls, smirking. Eric pulls out his wallet and pulls out a few bills, dropping them on the table. "Let's go. I'll call her on the way to see if she can drop by this afternoon to speak with Jax." he says, taking another few bites of his food and then slipping out of the bench to stand himself. "We're identical," Shane helpfully supplies. Bastian drags him faster. Towards the door. He's not any /less/ purple as he leaves the cafe. "Oh, you've measured?" Eric drawls, following close behind as he pulls out his cell phone and dials the number off of the card. |