Death By Humming


Edgar_icon.gif Simone_icon.gif

Summary: Edgar and Simone make jackasses out of themselves in an elevator.

Date It Happened: February 10, 2008

Death By Humming

Wolfram and Hart

Elevator music is interesting, especially when it is actually selected with the intent to torture. But Edgar doesn't mind listening to the oldies as much as many other modern individuals would, and so he hums along placidly after he boards the elevator near the ground floor. The large man stands at the back and center of the elevator with his hands clasped together behind his back and his shoulders and feet squared, almost in a military stance - but not quite, since he's also, y'know. Wearing a suit. Today it happens to be a blue-grey three-piece for the sake of a meeting with some of the other senior associates - most of the time he simply wouldn't bother with that level of formality in his wardrobe. "I don't want to set the world on fire…" He has apparently progressed to the next stage of Elevator Brain Cancer.

What. What on Jeebus's green earth is that detestable sound. "Excuse me," intones the woman immediately to Edgar's right, a handbag held in both hands like a vulture clutching dead prey. In contrast to Edgar's nice suit, it's slacks and a turtleneck for Simone today. Perfectly ordinary, for a visitor. But with regards to what's happening, it's bad enough that this … godawful tune is playing without having to listen to rogue accompaniment.

Edgar tilts his head down so he can peer at the speaking woman, returning to a level of humming (loud humming) as he inspects her carefully. "Yes?" The response is drawled out and spoken easily, denoting a certain amount of comfort that the man enjoys in the Wolfram & Hart facility. The elevator's other occupant, a relatively short and rather heavy man, seems to believe that Something Bad is probably going to happen, so he quietly presses the button for the next floor. Ding! And he gets off. "Can I help you with something?" Like your fashion sense?

Silently Simone's eyes follow the heavy man out, but her attention is quite tensely focused on the one standing beside her. "Please," she answers through gritted teeth, staring straight ahead. STOP THAT HUMMING GRAR. "Some of us have had long days. Courtesy." If Edgar knows what this is. She's known him for all of two seconds but she already doubts it.

Usually, Edgar wouldn't be given to playing this sort of game from the jerk's standpoint. Usually he'd ignore it completely. But Simone is trying to cut in on his humming time. "Courtesy would be accessorizing yourself in a way that isn't embarrassing," comes his cheerful answer. He just might be swimming on cloud nine after that very successful meeting. "…and that one is you, no other will doooo…"

One of her hand suddenly crooks into an impromptu claw as Simone actually looks down at herself. And then she looks back up. "Excuse me? Excuse me what did you say to me?"

"I'm fairly certain that the whole turtleneck-slacks getup went out of style in the seventies, friend. And those shoes? Really?" Take it from a gay man: Simone needs some serious fashion adjustment. Edgar seems completely unbothered by the woman's obvious irritation and doesn't seem to have gotten annoyed himself much at all - this falls more under 'friendly banter' as far as he's concerned. Even if there's a little truth in it. Tiny bit. "…da-da-dum, just want to staaaart…"

Aghghgh. There is an indignant 'uh!' sound. "How dare you say so, and stop that—" Simone gives the shoulder of Edgar's closest to her a solid jerk of a push. No superstrength. Just a very irritated action too purposeful to be a reflex. The 'friendly banter' stance isn't working that well on her. Edgar just doesn't know how to do it.

Don't be that way, strange lady with the turtleneck! Edgar turns his pushed shoulder inwards slightly in a mild gesture of defense, though he doesn't seem to be very alarmed at all. "Really, humming isn't a crime. I'd know if it was. I'd probably sue over it, considering the music people seem to like these days." Lawyer alert! "What brings you to our fine firm?" Did someone down the hall play their tuba too loud?

"It is quite truly none of your business." Icy, icy. Simone is not inclined towards making a full-length reply. Almost to stop her hands from making another move towards Edgar, perhaps to choke or punch, she folds them across her chest. "And humming may not be a crime, but being insensitively rude should be."

"Then so should be telling people to stop a completely harmless activity." And now Edgar speaks as if explaining to a child, because Simone obviously has no concept of social propriety and must learn. "Don't hassle me about my humming and I won't hassle you about your threads. Deal?"

There are evidently quite a few more words Simone wants to throw at Edgar's head, and maybe a fist or two too, but none of them come out. "The difference is, my excellent sir, that your humming is a great deal more offensive than my clothing. But if it will shut you up, then deal."

"Gosh, you're a testy little woman." It must be said that the 'little' has no intentional derogatory meaning. Edgar thinks of almost everyone else in the world as being little, because he's just so darn big. He's probably in his own weather category. "And for the sake of politeness, my name is Edgar Montero."

Probably has his own zip code, too. Sigh. "Simone Muldoon." She could mention that it's a pleasure, but that would be stretching it kind of. "Fff. So. You work here, hm."

Oh snap. For Simone's own sake, she should probably not verbally mention anything about Edgar's weight. He's a little, uhm, sensitive about being such a large man, even if he isn't overweight. He's broad! And broadness brings poundage. "I do indeed. And you are obviously a client." He'd know otherwise. "Judging by the floor you boarded on… divorce? Bad marriage?"

Pft. He should be prepared to deal with it, then. No one told him to be so damned big. "Idiotic ex-boyfriend." Close enough. At the very least, Simone seems willing to look at Edgar now. If still kind of sideways.

"If you're here for an ex that wasn't a spouse," Edgar reasons, "you must have something interesting in mind. Care to tell me what? I may be able to… 'help'." Because people with weird motivations are shiny and intriguing. He looks right back at the woman, his expression conveying an acceptable measure of curiosity.

Forget about sulking out of peripheral vision. Simone eyes Edgar full-on, at this. "It's. Well. Yes, I suppose you could call it interesting. Why would you want to know?"

The tall man smiles, shrugging his shoulders. "Why would I want to know? Because I like knowing what goes on around my workplace. You'll get a bottle of wine out of it if you concede to talk to me about it in my office rather than an elevator." Because Edgar has class.

"Perhaps another day." The tone of Simone leaves little room for fudging. "I have things to do. Perhaps if you left your office number, I can drop in when convenient." Like when she's utterly bored.

"Fair enough." Edgar reaches into a pocket of his suit and produces a business card, which he holds out to Simone with a slight smile. Something in him thinks that, bored or not, she'll be heading his way eventually. Mostly because of the offer of wine. Who could pass that up? Honestly? "Good luck with your boyfriend, regardless."

With only a slight lift of her eyebrows and an accompanying shake of her head, Simone pockets the card. "Yeah." As if on cue, the elevator thuds to a smooth stop. She steps into the beam of light that spreads across the floor, leaving without another word. Some people's kids.

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