let's start from the begining[Quill]

[Elisabeta Sovu]

It had been a nice walk from the city to the Agency. The two of them had talked about trivial things of course, but it was still a good feeling having someone to walk with. His hand felt nice against hers and, though she didn't know a darned thing about him, his body felt comfortable and easy.

It was still a mystery to her on how something so out of the ordinary for her could feel so darn right. All the other men she'd encountered during her work as a Valentine and even those outside it had been shallow and-to her-disgusting. The looks men tended to give her often made her stomach turn, but it seemed this Special Op guy was quite different than most other men of the day.

They reached the door of the penitentiary without any problems and Elisabeta followed him in without missing a step. As soon as the doors shut behind them though, she released their hands and stepped away from him. Acting was done and the rules of the worked place were in need of enforcement-at least to the naked eye. She winked at him and grinned before turning to the guards in charge of security.

She allowed the necessary precautions and managed to make the end of it go by quickly with a shy grin to the guard before grabbing hold of her new found friend's wrist pulling him quickly through the halls of Os. A few minutes later she reached her private quarters. After looking around she opened the door and pulled him in, shutting it quickly once more.

"Alright, what's your real name?"

[Quill]

Even through their walk Quill could not place his finger on what it was about this girl. There was something, he knew that much, but it kept eluding him. He, of course, immediately jumped to the conclusion most would when a girl gave them a strange feeling: love. Yet, it didn't feel like love--not yet anyway. No, it was a sense of mortality and humanity. She made him feel vulnerable and yet he liked the feeling.

He watched as she went through necessary protocols, then walked through himself. His walk was confident, and he didn't stop for security, rather they saluted him as he walked past. He was a special operative, there were times when he had to go in and out of the Os Headquarters without being held up, as with all Special Ops. This meant all guards recognized these particular agents and let them pass with no fuss.

Then, suddenly, he was being whisked through the hallways. It was so abrupt even he was caught somewhat by surprise, but quickly adapted. She took him through the halls. They weren't as familiar to him as they were to her, but he knew the route. They were heading for the private quarters. She definitely was a Valentine. They entered her private quarters and she shut the door behind her, immediately demanding his name.

"My real name? I honestly can't remember it," he said with a shrug, his voice completely sincere. He'd been working undercover and with alibis and whatnot so long that he had accepted his codename as his real name and had forgotten what he had been born as. "Though you might recognize me as Quill," he said casually, taking a look around her private quarters.

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[Elisabeta Sovu]

She stared at him for a moment and then nodded and pushed herself from the door she'd been leaning on. Walking past him she sat down on her bed and motioned to the computer chair directly across from it for him to take if he should feel like it.

She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands letting the red comforter squash up among her splayed fingers. It made her feel more at home and because of that more comfortable with Quill. Not that he was a scary guy to be around, but she was still slightly unnerved about the fact that they could have gone their separate ways and never even met up again.

"My name," she began softly. "Is Elisabeta, or Elisa. You can call me either one you like. And if you haven't figured it out by now I am in the Valentine department." She switched her position on the bed and brought up her legs to sit Indian style. Her arms rested on her knees and she smiled at him.

Now that they were truly acquainted, she thought it might be a good idea to get know him better. He seemed like a nice kid after all and he did have the kind of charm most girls would kill to have in a guy they liked and- oh cheese.

She liked him.

[Quill]

Quill looked about her room. Of course this was almost purely aesthetic, as the instant she had dragged him in his trained eyes had taken in every detail. Yet there was a part of the action that allowed him to regard things more closely and learn their function. He started out on her desk, figuring it was the less personal place to explore. He wanted to get to know her more and, though they were talking, this would allow him into facets of her personality that she would not show.

There was a laptop on the desk turned off, surrounded on all sides by scraps of paper with neat cursive written across them, her own personal notes, Quill imagined. He didn't bother reading them. He glanced at the bulletin board suspended above the back of the desk and at the pictures of people whom he could only assume were her sisters by the way they all had similar features. The desk was littered with books as well, Quill's limited Romanian (he was James Bond, after all) allowing him to identify a few of them. She also had the autobiography by an old musician, John Lennon, and one of Quill's own personal favorites was laying next to an iPod on her bed: Bram Stoker's Dracula.

"Elisabeta... Romanian name meaning "My God is a vow". Pretty name, suits you," he said with a smile. He turned her computer chair and sat down to face her, running over the contents of her room in his head and compiling a personality evaluation based off what he saw. He couldn't help it, of course, this was all reflex to his specifically trained mind. There was a reason Spec Ops were often called "Superhuman".

He motioned over to the book on her bed. "You're reading Dracula," he stated bluntly, "How do you like it? I've read it myself, I found the sexual and romantic overtones quite powerful, myself, yet strangely appealing. A real strong note about personal vengeance and the blackening of humanity in the time," he said, sounding oddly robotic in his reply. "'Not so! Alas. Not so. It is only the beginning,' as Van Helsing so put it."

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[Elisabeta Sovu]

She blinked at him and stared. Well, that was a shocker. Her red lips formed a perfect O shape and she continued to stare unabashedly at Quill. No one really knew what her name meant unless they were from Romania. Even then it wasn't really like it mattered much to anyone but her parents. She'd been named as such because she was thought to be a miracle child.

Her mother had become severely ill during the end of her third trimester, leaving only a few weeks before Elisa was to be born. No one really thought she would give birth to a live child because her illness had made her nearly too exhausted to push out the baby in her womb. Never the less the little baby girl had come out screaming her tiny little lungs out. Her father often liked to say that she'd never quit making some sort of noise since then.

And then to top off her surprise it seemed Quill-who was starting to look more and more like Mr. Bond himself-was able to quote directly from Dracula. After stuttering out a few incoherent sounds she cleared her throat and looked away from him and down to the book that lay by her pillow. She'd thrown it aside that morning after becoming to restless to sit still any longer. She grabbed it and fingered the tattered edges absently. She had never actually finished the book, usually making it about half way before something else caught her eye. She smiled at Quill and set it aside again. Why she acting so fidgetty she couldn't be sure. Even if she did like him, she shouldn't be nervous. After all she'd just met him and she didn't even know if he was worth liking at the moment.

"Well, I've never actually finished it. I get close to the end and then something else distracts me or I just forget all about it for a while. I wish I could, but I don't really have much to say about it. Most of the time I like to keep it out for laughs." She grinned and winked at him. "I mean, a Romanian girl with the book that might as well have started the entire craze over vampires and all that." She giggled. "It was just too good a thing to pass up really." That and her mother had made her promise that she would at least try to read a few of the book that were considered American classics. "Anyway, tell me more about yourself. It's not every day a girl gets to bring her own personal James Bond into her room and have a conversation with him."

[Quill]

Quill watched as she fidgeted about. It was amusing to watch other people. Quill did it a lot, and often he managed to find the right people to watch, as they often were involved in one of his missions and that meant he already had a profile on the person stored away in his memory banks. But she was different. Watching her was more... amusing than useful, and he liked this kind of amusement.

"That's a shame," he mused on the thought that she hadn't finished it, "It has perhaps one of the best vampire depictions outside of the real thing," he said with a shrug. "Of course the real thing isn't a supernatural being who feeds on blood but rather insane people who... well I won't get into the details." he said with a little laugh. That had been one particularly gory and frightful mission.

She then asked him about himself. That was a touchy issue for Quill; he didn't often talk about himself. Yet something about this girl made him feel more vulnerable and human, so easy to talk and quick of the tongue. He almost felt compelled to talk about himself to her, but then again he wouldn't even know where to start. He didn't talk about himself to anyone, so it wasn't a topic he was particularly versed in.

"I could tell you about myself," he started with a grin, sitting down on the bed beside her and examining the room from another angle. "But that mightn't be as fun. I guess you'll have to try and learn the things you want through our conversations." he said coyly.

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[Elisabeta Sovu]

Elisa smiled her usual sweet smile as he sat next to her. The bed creaked quietly with the added weight of him and she began to envision other ways their weight moving about could make it sing its night song. The smile turned into a bashful grin and she turned so she could face him properly, her knee managing to brush against his thigh as she did so. The contact sent goose-flesh along her legs under and she felt it prickle against the fabric of her jeans.

His smooth evasion of her question made her ears prick up with curiosity. Perhaps, like his true name, he did not know much about himself at all. She found that to be a very sad fact indeed. A man needed to know who was in the world--past, present, and future--if only because it could cause a whole bunch of issues if he didn't. Still she kept her smile though. Perhaps she could be the one to help him find what he needed to. It was too early to tell of course, but it never hurt to hope you could help someone.

"Well, if that's how you're going to play the game Mr. Bond you're going to need an opponent don't you think?" Quickly she stood and made her way to a door that led to her bathroom. "I'll be out in just a moment. I don't like to be in jeans for so long. In the mean time, make yourself at home." Slipping into the bathroom she shut the door quietly and gathered her pajama shorts from the floor, making a quick effort to change into them. All the while she was trying to think of a friendly way to get to know at least a shallow layer of Quill.

A few minutes later she stepped from the bathroom and dumped her cloths into the dirty laundry basket while pulling a red hoodie over her head and black tank-top. Her long, pale legs were still very clearly seen as she slid back onto the bed. The red shorts-same as her hoodie-slid up a few inches of her thigh as she did so. "So! What's your favorite color, Mr. Bond?"

[Quill]

She didn't like to be in jeans for too long. There was a statement that intrigued the humanity she invoked within him. He considered the statement carefully, understanding what she meant by it at the face level, how she was going to change. Then, of course, there was the obvious innuendo of the statement, but was it intentional. That was the real question. Elisa was a Valentine, after all, and they were notorious for their ability to work womanly wiles over their victims. But that was the cliche, the stereotype. So far as Quill could discern their conversation was romantic, not seductive, and that implied entirely different themes.

But could she perhaps be trying to bridge that gap? It was curious, to say the least, and Quill found himself at a new level of intrigue than what he showed everyday life normally. His typical composure was absent, automatic, detached when it came to anything but missions. But this girl was intriguing him, something new. Something odd. He considered her quandary while she was in the washroom, but before he could settle on a conclusion to the problem she reemerged in rather revealing shorts.

He quirked a brow and another part of his new found humanity was quirked as well as he examined her sleek pale legs. Things were getting even more interesting for the typically detached Quill and he found himself examining things with two frames of mind, the first being the humanity she invoked, that was examining her mostly, but the other frame of mind was the normal Quill, examining the humanity and how it came to be, trying to figure out what was causing it.

Then she posed him a question. No doubt she was going to pose many more, however if they kept the same innocent nature as a favorite color question then he wouldn't mind answering them so much. "Red," he stated calmly. He wasn't sure what frame of mind answered the question as he'd never taken the time to consider colors carefully like that, but he suspected the humanity was answering based on most recent examinations. Namely her short shorts. He reached an arm out and rubbed her shoulder gently. "Same as yours, I'd imagine," he said with a grin, being that were the shorts pants she'd camouflage with her red comforter.

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