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APL Financial, 100th floor, 3:45pm
Lori: *steps off elevator, looks around*
Bob: *walks over, smiles* Oh hey Lori. I thought you were at lunch with Scotty.
Lori: Yeah, he's trying to hail a cab downstairs so we can catch a flight back to Miami. Do you know where Matthew Whitfield is?
Bob: Sure, he's at his desk. Is there something you needed?
Lori: I just need to speak with him.
Bob: I'll take you over there. *walks away*
Lori: *follows*
Bullpen
Matthew: *writing*
Bob: *steps over* Matt.
Matthew: *lifts head*
Lori: Hey, me again.
Matthew: *looks at Bob*
Bob: *walks away*
Matthew: How can I help you?
Lori: *pulls chair over, sits* I'm trying to get to know all of the employees on this floor.
Matthew: Do you always get to know them so closely?
Lori: ...*laughs* You're referring to the face grab I did back there.
Matthew: *smiles*
Lori: I'm very personable. So where did you grow up?
Matthew: Uh, Staten Island.
Lori: *leans back in chair, crosses legs* Right. And wh-
Matthew: I'm actually really busy, perhaps you could stop by another time.
Lori: This won't take long. Who are your parents?
Matthew: ...My mother's name is Elaine.
Lori: And your father?
Matthew: *stares at Lori*
Lori: Too personal?
Matthew: If you must know, I never knew him. I'm not sure why that matters.
Lori: Oh it matters. Do you have any weird habits? Coffee, nibbling on pens, things like that?
Matthew: ...No.
Lori: Got a half-eaten sandwich somewhere?
Matthew: I'm sorry, what does this have to do with getting to know me?
Lori: I'm...still hungry.
Cellphone beeps
Lori: *pulls cellphone from purse, looks down* Damnit. That man can't wait an extra 10 minutes.
Matthew: Do you have somewhere to be?
Lori: Yeah. *grabs Matthew, kisses him*
Matthew: *blinks*
Lori: *kissing Matthew*
Matthew: *places hands on Lori's shoulder, pushes her* What the hell are you doing?
Lori: *smiles* Nice to meet you. *stands, walks away*
Matthew: *stares down hallway*
Elevator
Lori: *presses button, opens purse*
Elevator doors close
Lori: *grabs Q-tip from purse, swabs lips*
Street
Lori: *walks over*
Scott: *looks back* Where were you?
Lori: Ladies room. We can go.
Miami Lab, 6:40pm
Tom: *staring through microscope*
Lori: *walks in* Was there ever a point where you'd do anything in the world for me?
Tom: *lifts eyes* Depends. Am I going to get fired for whatever it is you need?
Lori: *smiles* I need a DNA test.
Tom: STD clinic's downtown.
Lori: Cute. This is actually regarding someone else. *places baggie on table*
Tom: *looks down at table* Does this someone else know you have their DNA?
Lori: Yes. Sort of.
Tom: What exactly do you expect me to do with it? I'm a trace analyst. *tilts head* For all intents and purposes.
Lori: *pulls toothbrush from purse* I need someone to compare it with this.
Tom: This isn't your own private lab. It's funded by the tax payers.
Lori: I'll pay for it.
Tom: Sorry, doesn't work that way.
Lori: *walks around table* It's important.
Tom: So are a lot of murder cases.
Lori: *sits in chair* Nobody has to find out.
Tom: Someone always finds out. I don't want to ruin what little career I have left.
Lori: I'll pay you.
Tom: ...You're going to bribe me?
Lori: *shrugs* Doesn't have to be with money.
Tom: *stares at Lori* ...Are you feeling okay?
Lori: Please.
Tom: No.
Lori: *smiles* Pretty please.
Tom: *angry sigh*
Lori: Thank you. *kisses Tom's cheek* Call me when you get the results. *stands, walks away*
Tom: *shakes head*
TBC.................
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APL Financial, 100th floor, 3:45pm
Lori: *steps off elevator, looks around*
Bob: *walks over, smiles* Oh hey Lori. I thought you were at lunch with Scotty.
Lori: Yeah, he's trying to hail a cab downstairs so we can catch a flight back to Miami. Do you know where Matthew Whitfield is?
Bob: Sure, he's at his desk. Is there something you needed?
Lori: I just need to speak with him.
Bob: I'll take you over there. *walks away*
Lori: *follows*
Bullpen
Matthew: *writing*
Bob: *steps over* Matt.
Matthew: *lifts head*
Lori: Hey, me again.
Matthew: *looks at Bob*
Bob: *walks away*
Matthew: How can I help you?
Lori: *pulls chair over, sits* I'm trying to get to know all of the employees on this floor.
Matthew: Do you always get to know them so closely?
Lori: ...*laughs* You're referring to the face grab I did back there.
Matthew: *smiles*
Lori: I'm very personable. So where did you grow up?
Matthew: Uh, Staten Island.
Lori: *leans back in chair, crosses legs* Right. And wh-
Matthew: I'm actually really busy, perhaps you could stop by another time.
Lori: This won't take long. Who are your parents?
Matthew: ...My mother's name is Elaine.
Lori: And your father?
Matthew: *stares at Lori*
Lori: Too personal?
Matthew: If you must know, I never knew him. I'm not sure why that matters.
Lori: Oh it matters. Do you have any weird habits? Coffee, nibbling on pens, things like that?
Matthew: ...No.
Lori: Got a half-eaten sandwich somewhere?
Matthew: I'm sorry, what does this have to do with getting to know me?
Lori: I'm...still hungry.
Cellphone beeps
Lori: *pulls cellphone from purse, looks down* Damnit. That man can't wait an extra 10 minutes.
Matthew: Do you have somewhere to be?
Lori: Yeah. *grabs Matthew, kisses him*
Matthew: *blinks*
Lori: *kissing Matthew*
Matthew: *places hands on Lori's shoulder, pushes her* What the hell are you doing?
Lori: *smiles* Nice to meet you. *stands, walks away*
Matthew: *stares down hallway*
Elevator
Lori: *presses button, opens purse*
Elevator doors close
Lori: *grabs Q-tip from purse, swabs lips*
Street
Lori: *walks over*
Scott: *looks back* Where were you?
Lori: Ladies room. We can go.
Miami Lab, 6:40pm
Tom: *staring through microscope*
Lori: *walks in* Was there ever a point where you'd do anything in the world for me?
Tom: *lifts eyes* Depends. Am I going to get fired for whatever it is you need?
Lori: *smiles* I need a DNA test.
Tom: STD clinic's downtown.
Lori: Cute. This is actually regarding someone else. *places baggie on table*
Tom: *looks down at table* Does this someone else know you have their DNA?
Lori: Yes. Sort of.
Tom: What exactly do you expect me to do with it? I'm a trace analyst. *tilts head* For all intents and purposes.
Lori: *pulls toothbrush from purse* I need someone to compare it with this.
Tom: This isn't your own private lab. It's funded by the tax payers.
Lori: I'll pay for it.
Tom: Sorry, doesn't work that way.
Lori: *walks around table* It's important.
Tom: So are a lot of murder cases.
Lori: *sits in chair* Nobody has to find out.
Tom: Someone always finds out. I don't want to ruin what little career I have left.
Lori: I'll pay you.
Tom: ...You're going to bribe me?
Lori: *shrugs* Doesn't have to be with money.
Tom: *stares at Lori* ...Are you feeling okay?
Lori: Please.
Tom: No.
Lori: *smiles* Pretty please.
Tom: *angry sigh*
Lori: Thank you. *kisses Tom's cheek* Call me when you get the results. *stands, walks away*
Tom: *shakes head*
TBC.................