"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone. Now normally I wouldn't bat an eye at another one of the dregs sitting by their lonesome, but you... well, you aren't any old dreg, now are you? Miss..." Brad trailed off, seating himself without ever having the woman give her consent, asserting an air of confidence that was visibly off-putting to the woman.
"Harper. Ms. Harper." She replied curtly, taking a sip of her nondescript martini while averting her gaze. She wasn't having any of Brad's shtick.
"Harper, pretty name. Do you have another one?" Brad asked jokingly before ordering himself a copy of Ms. Harper's drink.
"Not one that concerns you, no. That's classified." She replied mysteriously.
Brad laughed in response, studying her for the most uncomfortable minute of your life before slyly retorting. "Classified, huh? Let me guess... DARPA? Bio enhancement specialist? Here to see if you can develop usable cybernetics and upgrade the freaks with bionic enhancements to improve there performance?"
Ms. Harper nearly spat out her drink, only keeping it in with the tips of her fingers. She swallowed hard and drew breath before incredulously asking "How... how did you get that?" Brad had been right.
"Well the lab coat tells me your a scientist of some kind, that much is obvious. Your name and demeanor had me leaning CIA but the fact that you didn't attempt to smash my nose in when I bothered you lead me to think that you weren't trained in combat, or at least not extensively so, so I defaulted DARPA. As for the bio enhancement specialist well..." Brad trailed off, lifting one of Ms. Harper's hands up much to her confusion. He rubbed the back of the hand, and you felt what he felt. Scars, callouses, and burns. "These aren't the sort of hands you get while sitting behind a glass screen with a pencil taking notes. These are the hands of a working woman, and since we don't do explosives testings down here, cybernetics was my next best guess. Plus, weapon testers don't generally keep themselves up like you do." He finished, kissing the back of her hand. It tasted rather nice, as though she had just recently bathed. Christ, you knew Brad was the first person to be brought into the program and had done a lot of time people watching, but this was just insane! He really has one hell of a detective sense to him.
This had all shaken Ms. Harper to the core, someone reading her like that. She suddenly grew rather self conscious, as though Brad could hear her every thought (which he couldn't, at least no test has shown him to be able to). "My hands... you noticed them quickly. Do you not like them?" She asked defensively.
Brad laughed at the question, playing her like a flute. "What would ever give you that impression? I love them! I like it when a woman is willing to get down and dirty. It makes her so much more lively, you know?"
Ms. Harper tried and failed to hide a smile, taking another sip of her drink before asking "You know I don't ever remember catching your name. Mind telling me what it is?"
"That's classified." Brad joked. Ms. Harper laughed, knowing that an orderly wouldn't need any sort of formality like that. When prompted again, Brad told her "Larry, my name is Larry." Son of bitch he gave you his stupid nickname! You were Dan, Dan damn it!
"Oh stop it with the jokes, I'm serious!" Ms. Harper told him, aware of Brad's nomenclature.
"I am too. I'm Larry. Convenient, right?" He said, his poker face winning her over. She laughed but accepted the name as yours. Brad and his new buddy talked for the next half an hour, discussing everything from their expectations and experiences so far in facility 2 to soccer. After both had had enough drinks for you to start feeling tipsy Brad says "Listen, my second shift is about to start, would you mind picking this up later? Perhaps at eight, at the employee theater?"
Ms. Harper nodded "Alright, sounds like a plan! Don't get killed before our date Larry!" She teased, punching you on the arm a little too hard for your own comfort. Brad agreed and walked your body back to the hall where he had found you, his own body still in the exact position he had left it. For a moment he stood there, then sud-
You struggled to stand as you suddenly regained control of your body, the bizarre feeling of not being in control of your actions leaving you. You turned to Brad, who was smiling rather smugly. "WHAT. THE HELL. WAS THAT?!" You demand, unable to comprehend what had just transpired.
"I set you up with a fine date with a nice young lady. Why, would you've preferred a man? I would've guessed by the way that you were chasing Maria's sweet little ass down that you were into the cute gals." He mocked, looking at his fingernails in a show of disinterest.
"Yeah, I got that much. What I meant was why would you do that?" You clarified. He had every opportunity to screw you over, yet he didn't.
"Hey, I can be a generous god when I feel like it. I just don't normally feel like it." He casually rebutted.
"Okay. Thanks, I guess. So what happens at the date?" You ask.
Brad laughs and responds...
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