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The Perk, Sunday Morning

Cara would have preferred to be brooding over something with a high alcohol content, but apparently the network had gotten complaints after the last time they showed drinking before noon, so instead she was moodily staring into a virgin Irish coffee. She was wearing a strappy little black dress that showed off all her assets though, because that was the completely inconspicuous kind of thing a thieving con-woman with a dark and mysterious past trying to avoid the notice of the law would wear, right?

Things were not going to plan. She'd come to this island with one goal in mind (or had she?) but so far all she had to show for her troubles was an unopened condom. From a creepy amnesiac.

[Open.]

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There were still no fires to fight (and the dangerous criminal part of himself wanted to start one just so he could be a hero) so Jim had left his post at the fire station and come into town to see if maybe someone needed rescuing there.

What he found was the coffee shop and someone who definitely caught his eye. He wasn't the law but he so he definitely noticed. She looked dark and mysterious.

That was right up his alley. The old side of him was intrigued and the new side of him was just...a guy.

Cara tossed her hair back in slow motion as she played with the ring she wore around her neck, the ring that hinted at her mysterious past and occasionally came in useful when trying to fool creepy rich amnesiacs.

Still in slow motion, she shifted in her chair, crossing her legs and showing the punters at home just how long and toned they were.

Really, legs like that were just unfair. And Jim decided that letting just a hunt, just a sliver of his former life and his former self come out right now wasn't going to expose him.

He could lean against the counter, letting his tight white t-shirt show off his own goods, while he leered over at the mysterious woman. If she was going to show it off, he wasn't going to ignore it.

That would be stupid. As a fireman, he was trained to be observant of everything and he was just going to observe her. A lot.

Cara finally turned towards Jim, letting her eyes rake over the tight shirt.

"See something you like," she asked, the flirty tone hiding her disdain for the leering.

Men. All the same. You just had to flaunt a little skin.

"Maybe."

He really had to rid himself of that stupid Southern drawl. That was from the past, from the him he'd left behind.

"And what happens if I do?"

He was used to getting things he wanted. He had to remember not to push that. She had legs that looked like they could crack walnuts.

Walnuts, heads, it was all the same really.

"Then you could buy me a drink." Getting a look at his wallet would give her an idea of if it'd be worth lifting it later or not.

"Little early for a drink, ain't it?" Jim asked, checking his suddenly appearing wristwatch. "Got something to celebrate already?"

You didn't just drink to celebrate, sometimes you drank to forget, or to lure people into false senses of security.

Not thet Cara actually pointed that out. "I don't know, you tell me."

"I celebrate being alive everyday," Jim said like the good guy that he was. He was good guy! Maybe one day, he'd convince himself of that. "Guess that's a good reason to drink. What's your poison?"

Chloroform usually did a good job of keep them quiet long enough for her to make a clean escape.

"I'm sure whatever you're having is good," she said instead, fluttering her eyelashes.

Jim gave her a longer look before he made his way over to the counter. You would think it would be harder to get something alcoholic in a coffee shop.

You would be wrong. Jim came back with two glasses of straight vodka. Might as well go with a classic, right?

He handed one drink to her. "If you think you can handle it, of course."

"I know I can." Cara let her fingers brush over Jim's as she took the shot glass and tossed it back easily. "The question is, can you?"

"Oh, I bet you couldn't fathom the things I can handle," Jim said silkily. Wasn't all dialog supposed to be silky?

He tossed his drink back without hesitation and smacked the glass down on a nearby table. "Want another?"

"You look like a man who knows how to handle himself," Cara purred. Dirty, definitely dirty. "Only if you're having another too."

The drunker he was, the easier it'd be to relieve him of any valuables.

Jim thought about it for a second. And then a second longer. And a second longer. This wasn't a dramatic moment but Jim was going to make sure this scene wasn't ignored amongst everything else.

"I know how to handle a lot of things," he finally said confidently. He motioned the waiter (the Perk did have a waiter now magically enough) to bring two more drinks over. "And I hope to get the opportunity to handle a few things."

His fireman persona was pretty much ebbing away with each moment. He'd tried. He'd failed. He was always gonna be a bad guy.

Once, Cara might have felt guilt over that, but guilt was for another time, a time that would only be brought up during sweeps.

"I can't wait to see how you handle them." Of course by them, she meant a concussion.

"Who says you're gonna get that chance?" Jim asked, taking the next round of drinks from the waiter and giving one to her. "That's pretty confident of you."

Not that he could blame her. Not with those legs. That he was going to try and subtly check out but his acting wasn't great so it wasn't subtle at all.

Those legs had been one of the reasons the studio had hired her. "Why shouldn't I be?" She asked, leaning forward so he could see another of the reasons. "You're not scared of confident women are you?"

In this case he probably should be.

He probably should be but the casting director hadn't hired him to look scared. He had to exude confidence and arrogance.

So, in answer to her question, he just smirked. His non vocal emoting was amazing, you see. "I'm not scared of anything. Seems you wanna make me scared though."

Cara smirked and leant in even closer to walk her fingers up his chest. Which should have been a warning sign for any version of Cara. "Maybe I do."

"You're not scary," he told her, shaking his head though his hair never moved. The hair people were great on this show. "You might wanna work on that."

Obviously her warnings were falling on deaf ears.

"Not here," Cara purred, trailing her fingers along his jaw. "We don't want an audience."

Witnesses were the last thing she needed.

"You have someplace else in mind?" he asked because the audience needed to have it clarified that they'd be going off screen.

"What about your place?" Cara suggested. Might as well see if he had anything of value there "I imagine that would be private enough."

Again, no witnesses!

"Very private." Sure, his place was a little dumpy on the outside because he'd been keeping up appearances but he had secrets. And hidden compartments. And trap doors. And safes.

Who didn't? "Let's get out of here."

Was he making a mistake? Only time would tell!

Time and the ominous swell in the music. If only he knew what she had planned for him.

"Sounds perfect." Cara loved a place with hidden compartments and safes. "Lead the way."

That was something Jim could do very well. He'd regret this later, regret letting his dark side come out and overcome his good guy persona but he'd deal with that later.

For now, they had to go off screen because that was where all the action tended to happen!

That was because their insurance wouldn't cover Cara doing her own stunts in the fight scene that was sure to follow. She wouldn't use a double, she was in this for the art!

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The Perk, Sunday Morning

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