Go Texas!

cody_icon.png jason_icon.png tilly_icon.png

Where: Outside the Drunken Semaphore

When: March 30, 2012

What: Jason is bagged and tagged, and Cody once more disappointed when she doesn't get to use her pastries to do it.

It's nights like these that Tilly doesn't like her job.

Not the bagging and tagging that she ended up having to go on with Cody. Not in the least. Bagging and tagging is a part of life in a job with the Company. No. It's the not being allowed to drink and having spent the last half hour in the Drunken Semaphore, watching a bunch of college students hammering back drinks and otherwise being college students while she and Cody sat at the drinking fruity virgin versions of the far more desirable drinks.

Poor Cody's had to endure longer, but that's because Tilly's particular talents had a best by date and they needed to time things just right. But with the college kids looking ready to disperse the hour before last call and right on schedule, it's time to get thing going.

She and Cody had to book it out of the place, get the SUV parked close by and wait. Spring in the desert.

"Cold as a witches tit Cody. Seriously. Why'd they have us pick him up here? I'd be down for some good old fashioned home invasion" Jeans, leather jacket, wishing she's worn a scarf at least to keep off the chill, she's leaning against the wall with a cigarette, waiting for the admittedly nice looking mark to come out.

"Oh, Tilly, it's not cold at all," Cody chuckles, waving a hand dismissively. "You should see how cold it is when you're standing up to your knickers in snow in the middle of the night while yer tryin' to figure out what killed Mister Nanter the mailman." She takes a sip of her coffee almost demurely, watching outside the darkened window.

Jason drains his next Murphy's red and points a finger at JD. "Hellsh man. You are the Fucking Quarterback of thish team. You bang the chick then. Maybe then I can gets shom shleep and shtudy. Shome of ush have a real major ya know. Just what the fuck ish Bushniess Management anyway?"

'That would be Mr. Nanter's wife, who was pissed he was doing the young thing next door instead of her" Snarkily quipped to Cody, taking another drag on her smoke before dropping it and crushing it beneath her heel. "He better get his ass out soon because I got like fifteen more minu-" Tilly cuts off as Jason appears at the door and pointing fingers at teammates.

"Finally. Jesus, slowest moving running back I ever knew. You wanna be the bait or me?" No brainer.

Cody blinks at Tilly, and sets her coffee down. "Noo, it was a poor Advanced fella that grew ice-spines. Shot right through the poor man, just like that. Roger was a widower, so there was no… oh!" She pauses as the running back steps out of the bar, and then she nods. "Sure thing. I can just hop on out there."

Grabbing her bag o' treats from her shop, she climbs out of the SUV, coffee left behind for the sake of utility (sigh). She takes a few moments to brush herself off, tuck hair behind her ear, and wander over in Jason's direction. She's not exactly hard to miss, being six-foot-and-change and husky.

Jason begs off joining the others. "I got plansh that don't need an audience. Go on! I can catsh a cab." Jason pulls out his cell phone and looks to be about to dial when he notices the tall and broad girl coming his way. "Damn…girl or not, you could be our left tackle thish year. Ever wanted to play football? With you ash a blocker…my Heishmen would be jush like that…" He tries to snap his fingers, and fails, looks stupidly at them, and tries again to snap them.

Cody blinks, and then grins broadly at Jason. "Oh, I played football back in high school. I was a pretty sorry blocker then, but I've beefed up some since then, ya know." She flexes, though her career choice as a pastry chef shows through. "You look like a pretty strong player, though. What team do ya play for?" The midwestern lady takes a step closer, hand going to her hip.

Cody's moving in, Tilly's lighting another smoke and doing just the same, looking like she's going to just walk on by, not part of Cody's little group. Blowing a small puff of smoke aimed away from them, the tall blonde meanders past, a flick of a look at the football player in question and sticking her head in the bar proper before pulling it back out and leaning against the wall. Just smoking, nothing to see here, get him moving cod.

Jason chuckles at the posing the woman does. "Damn…thatsh funny. Much better than my teammatesh ashing me if I wash gay for not banging LeAnn Davishion. I mean come on, that girl hash shept with have the team already! Team? Why I go to UNLV. Running Rebelsh…"

"Oh, yep, don't want to get anything from gals like that, no sirree," Cody replies, shaking her head. She clucks her tongue, and sighs. "Goodness, it's just too bad how gay's a dirty word, ya know. But, you don't want me moralizing, of course; just a small time gal in the big flashy city. Y'wanna brownie? I own a shop, make 'em all myself!" She waggles the bag, tantalizingly.

There should be something about not taking food from strangers, but Jason is hungry as hell, and the calories from alcohol never seem to give him the boost his needs. That and he is hungry. Again. "Browniesh yoush shaysh?" As he stumbles forward, but he is also not nearly as dead drunk as he was before. That damned metabolism of his.

Whether Jason may hungry as hell or not, what he will want is a ambulance or a quick trip to the emergency room as one minute he's perfectly fine and the next, there's a searing pain in his knee as he bring down his right foot, ligaments tearing, a feeling of wrong in his knee, all while Tillys just standing there, smoking her smoke.

Cody extends the bag happily. "Yes indeed! I own a bakery, and I was gonna bring some in, but I'm always happy to— oh!!" There's nothing like genuine surprise to sell a story. She rushes toward Jason. "Oh fer petesake, are you okay? D'you need to sit down now?"

Jason scream out as he hits the ground, and there is real fear in his eyes. "My knee. Oh fuck my knee." Seems the pain as made him more or less sober too as he cradles it to him. "Fuck no no no no no no no not after all this time no…" He looks up to the woman. "911. Call 911. Oh fuck" He lashes out with his fist, hard, on the asphalt of the parking lot and there is a small shudder, and a spray of loose rock everywhere as his fist makes a two foot by two foot by two foot pothole where none existed before.

"Oh— OH, landsakes, okay, no need to destroy city property now. Let's get you to the hospital. It's not too far off, and my car's just right over there. Don't you worry, fella, I'll save a brownie for you, hm?" She leans down to try and help him up, offering up her generous, well, self, as a crutch to lean on. "That doesn't sound good," she comments.

"Need some help there?" Tilly is stubbing out her smoke, pushing away from the wall and hurrying over when Jason's falling and Cody's trying to help. "Jesus kid, what did you do? Too much booze?"

Jason still curses up a storm and he grunts. "Need you…need you to pick me up. Can't move my leg. Might make it worse. If I make it worse then I am out for the season. Shit..shit shit shit!"

"I don't think I can carry you, sweetcheeks; I lift cakes for a living, not quarterbacks." Cody looks over at Tilly, looking slightly disheartened. "Some help would be lovely," she answers. "If you could just help me lift this fella up into my SUV… What's your name, there, fella? In case you pass out before we get there."

'yeah, can do that. WE can fireman carry him" Tilly comes up on the other side of Cody, weaving arms around the fallen football player, helping him up till he can stand on his good leg. Between the two of them, they can get him to the SUV. "Hey, you're uhh/// Jason what's his.. from UNLV football right?"

Jason nods his head and grits his teeth from the pain. "Yeah…Jason Connors. Oh fuck this hurts." He does the best he can to move, but he isn't be too much help, really damned worried about fucking his knee up anymore that it is.

Cody works with Tilly, and finally gets him up into the SUV with minimal problems. "Jason Connors, eh? Well pleased to meetcha. We'll getcha right up to the ER and all fixed up." She hands him her bag of brownies, and then closes the door. "Ma'am, d'you mind coming with? I don't think I can carry th'lug on my own. Jason, feel free to grab a treat if it'll take yer mind off the pain. I know it sure helps me." And with that, she climbs into the driver's seat, starting the engine.

Confirmation. Good. Wouldn't do to get the wrong person. "Sure" Tilly replies to Cody, easing up into the passenger side, maneuvering her tranq gun as she does so. It isn't until the both of them are inside, doors closed that Tilly turns in her seat, looking over at the football player, gun hidden for now. "Say. You ever think about a tattoo?"

Jason looks up through pain filled eyes and blinks a bit in confusion as if unclear if he heard the words right. "Wah..tattoo. What the…just drive already. If my knee is gone then I lost my shot at the pros and an 8 figure salary!"

Cody sighs, moving the van out of parking and into the streets. "A tattoo?" she echoes, curious where that thread of conversation is leading. She pays attention to traffic now, as

"Ahh, calm down there Buck. Your knee will be fine" A gun now visible, trigger pulled with a quick thwip thwip two darts sinking into Jason, ignoring clothing pretty much and dispensing it's load upon contact. "You'll be good as new. I'll make sure of it. Tell me. What do you think about a butterfly, you know-" She gestures to the back of her neck, even as the fast acting tranquilizer is making the football player lose consciousness. "I think he'd look good with a Unicorn on his neck. What about you Cody?" Ahh locked door and pretty good soundproofed interior. Perks of being an agent.

Jason grunts out in pain, then gets that dumb jock look upon his face once more before his eyes roll back up into his head and he passes out from whatever the hell was in the damned things to start with.

Cody watches the road, glancing over at Tilly as she gestures. Her mouth creases in a line for a moment, as she glances now to the rear-view mirror, to watch him collapse. "I coulda gotten him with the baked goods," she finally sighs. "He almost had one! I just don't think we needta unleash the Priestess every time we tag a poor fella." With an exasperated huff, she shakes her head, sighing in disappointment. … But she does follow that up with, "Though, we did get him down before serious injury this time, so that is a plus…"

"Aww Cod. I'll let you kill em with a brownie next time" Tilly's putting her gun away, confident that the tranqs will hold till Primatech. "Seriously though, I'm thinking he needs a longhorn on his neck. Go Texas!" Throwing hands up in the imitation of a bull.

Jason will not be amused when he comes to on Sunday.

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