-nods a little- Okay…I actually thought Addie could read my mind for a while, but probably about half of those times she was just readin’ my eyebrows. -shrugs, and can’t help but smile a little remembering Addie telling him something similar-
To be fair, hittin’ on someone isn’t all that difficult, especially at a bar. A lot of it’s…pretendin’ like it’s easy. Having practice never hurt, but you know, luckily I don’t have to do that anymore.
That’s the girlfriend, right? -chuckles- I think I ran into her a few times at the Bureau, but I’m also fairly certain that I saw her down at the local PD last week too, but there are a few blondes out there.
Hitting on someone, yeah, but there’s a difference between hitting on someone and actually successfully hitting on someone. -smiles- You did manage that one.
I’m not even sure what ‘strong eyebrow game’ is, but I’m guessin’ it was meant as some sort of compliment. I dunno. -pauses- What? -shakes his head, seeming a little embarrassed at her pointing that out- I didn’t cat call. Did I go to bars back then? Yeah. I hit on women, but not from…movin’ cars or construction sites. It’s not like a woman’s gonna chase after those guys, beggin’ them to call her.
Oh, no worries there, it was a compliment. You’re a bit expressive with your eyebrows. That much was clear very early on. -smiles- All depends on the woman. -chuckles- The reality of the situation is that you may not necessarily cat call, but you weren’t exactly bad by any means at hitting on women.
Today on site some of the guys were catcallin’ women walkin’ by. Really makes you wonder why they’re all single. Anyway, I don’t think any of us expected a teenage girl to tell me that I have “strong eyebrow game”?
Well, you do have strong eyebrow game, just now how the majority of people would call it though. Must have something to do with the fact that they were the type of girls not to call the men out on cat calling of all things. Though… if I remember, there was a time that you might have done that.
May have had things get a bit crazy while I was down south, but I’m definitely glad to be back home and with Bailey again. God, I loved that dress though.
Alison nodded her head at the simple explanation. It was kind of an obvious thing, and she kicked herself for asking about it. Of course a psychologist would know about patient ID numbers, and even though she hadn’t seen the redhead around this hospital it didn’t mean she wasn’t from another or a private practice. Hell, it wasn’t like Ali owned the place, so why was it such a big deal?
Pulling out her cell phone, she wasn’t all too surprised to see that she didn’t have service. This elevator dropped calls more often then it let them go through. After a moment, she realized that the redhead still hadn’t given her a name and she looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. “So where do you practice, Psychologist?” she asked with a smirk.
For a moment, she almost hesitated saying where she worked, in part because although she was officially involved with the Bureau, there had been talk about her purchasing a private practice in the area. It, admittedly, would give her more freedom with her hours than being with the Bureau ever had, but even then… Cameron wasn’t entirely sure whether or not it would be something that the woman would ask questions about. “The Federal Bureau, actually.”
"Cameron Hadley, though I tend to go by Cameron," she said, tugging her phone out of her back pocket and moving to text Mick before realizing that she had no bars as well and setting the phone down on the floor, resting her head against the wood paneling. "How long do you think that it would take them to realize that one of the elevators was down?"
Alison was kind of surprised to hear the woman mention the ID numbers. She’d talked to most of the doctors in the hospital, and even the ones she didn’t know were familiar to her. She hadn’t seen this woman before that she could remember, and she frowned before replying. “Uh-yeah, they do have ID numbers,” she began, taking the papers the redhead held out to her. “How did you know that?” she wondered, putting the remaining papers in a random folder and straightening them all out.
She didn’t really want to sit down, but she didn’t want to seem rude either so she went to the emergency phone and pulled it off the hook, pressing it to her ear. There was no dial tone and she tried to punch in the emergency number but it didn’t work. Sighing, she replaced the phone on the hook and moved to sit opposite of the stranger. “I’m Alison, or Ali.” she said, not bothering with her title and full name. It was on her nametag, clear as day: Dr. Alison Reaser.
"Psychologist," she said, shrugging her shoulders. She may not enjoy carrying the title doctor, but Cameron was more than aware of the fact that if she wanted to she could push the mold of how most negotiators were. For the most part though, she enjoyed the fact that few people outside of her patients in the Bureau knew that she had her doctorate. "I did an internship over at Mass Gen after graduation, it’s the easiest way to track patients in case some have the same name."
To be honest, it wasn’t as though Cameron had ever been stuck in an elevator before, mostly because she hadn’t been in many to begin with. It she hadn’t been so frustrated about having to have a physical done, she would have just taken the stairs rather than something that had a particular ease of use associate with it. That was a particular habit that she had picked up in the midst of negotiations: stairs didn’t suddenly shut off if the electricity was cut by the police.
Ended up down in Palm Springs for the day, though I’m headed back to DC tomorrow morning, but hey… I’m not going to complain when I’m getting 80 degree weather… -smiles-
My birthdate? That’s what made you want to read the name? And why would you play it off like you’d read my file if you hadn’t? You’re always talking about how you don’t like how I lie and pretend, and yet here you are doing the same. I’m curious as to why that is, Cameron. *sighs* And I’m sorry about your father. I hope he’s doing well.
I said that I’ve seen your file, not that I read it or I knew all the details. And contrary to what you seem to be under the impression of, your undercover operations? -chuckles- Not entirely undercover when it comes to the Bureau. I know details of them, and I don’t care about them. I don’t care to push boundaries and find out everything because it isn’t my area. -shakes her head- I don’t know what to tell you. Do you want me to suddenly be able to erase my mind?
Oh but you couldn’t resist opening it, could you? *lets out an angry chuckle* You’re supposed to be a professional. You should have looked at the name on the file and passed it on immediately. But you and I both know that you couldn’t fight the urge to read through it. That you were just dying to know what was going on in my head.
You want the simplicity of the situation, Britt? My dad had a heart attack and I was going through my files to find out what ones were priority and what ones weren’t. I wasn’t looking at the names, and most of the time I don’t, so I remain impartial. However? Your birthdate? Yeah… that’s what caused me to look at the name, and it is that simple. I saw the first page. I didn’t look at your sordid past and I didn’t go look into your cases. Don’t you dare accuse me of things that you don’t know for sure about.
You what? Why the hell were you even looking at my file? You shouldn’t have picked it up to begin with knowing our issue.
They’re assigned to me Luellen. God. It was in a pile that was sitting on my desk and I was going through them, why else do you think that I am not the psychologist on file for you now? Because I know our conflict.