Creepy

Hal didn't say anything as Sam came into the room and sat in the other chair. He could tell immediately something was bothering her, and remained silent until she told him. A little smile quirked on his lips, and he leaned back in his chair, setting his feet up on the desk to cross his ankles. "And thus, the question we all face around here. Didn't take you long." He tossed her a wink before leaning back and opening the mini fridge near the desk. Taking out two cans of Coke, he tossed one to her, and opened the other to take a swig. 

"What we do is different than any other facility, so it's tough to know where to draw those lines. In a weird way, it's kind of like parenting I guess... everyone has their own style, their own priorities and their own lines between soft love and tough love." He paused to think a few moments, as his eyes were drawn to the picture of his daughter. "This rehabilitation program is still a baby. Reese is trying to establish it because he recognizes that most agency operatives are severely misled. It doesn't mean people like Aaron aren't at fault, but it does, perhaps, make way for a little more grace when considering a punishment. That said, we can't just let him off the hook, either. So...it takes a plan of attack." 

He looked back to Sam and gave her another smile. "You need to come up with some goals. What's the purpose of having Aaron in this program? If you need to know more about Reese's intentions for the program as a whole, ask him. Figure out where Aaron fits in the big picture. Make a goal of where you see him a month from now...three months...six months. When do you see him released and given a new start - if at all? Are you here to see him become a new person, or just wait til he can stand on his own two feet and let him go?" He cocked his head. "There's no wrong answer, either. Your job is to figure out what his needs are and try to meet them, while making sure he doesn't go back to the Agency or threaten the public. And even then...in the end...it's gonna be up to him. So be prepared - if he takes the wrong turn, you can't blame yourself. But get to know him. Study him. And if you think he needs more help than you can give, say something - we'll get a counselor in here. That's not uncommon. And if you need a counselor, talk to Hope, or we'll find you someone else."

He lifted his coke can in a toast as he grinned. "To the job of all jobs. Welcome to the Elite."


Hearing Ashlee's response, a new smile spread across Travis' face. Not that he'd really expected a rejection, but there was always that possibility. "Okay. That'll be fun. I'm sure there's like, a burger joint or something we could hang out at." 

Looking up at her and just studying her eyes, he suddenly realized he was staring, and his cheeks gained some color. Gaining a silly grin, he covered his face with his hands and laughed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "Am I moving too fast?" He spread his fingers to squint at her through the cracks. "I'm just really enjoying this." He slid his hands down and scrunched his nose. "I don't wanna be, like, creepy or anything."


Heading across down with the windows down, Hunter tapped his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the music he had playing on the radio. No work today. Just a race tonight, and he'd been blowing time with a drive around town for no other reason than just to clear the cobwebs from his mind. 

Seeing a figure walking along the street, he almost ignored them, but passing, he realized it was Ryan. Braking, he made sure no one was behind him, and backed up until he was next to her again. "Hey...need a lift?"