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May 2012





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Apr. 24th, 2010

[wee - braids know-it-all]

MCA #3, Saturday

Alexandra Cabot -- not Alex, because Alex was a boy's name and boys were immature and gross -- couldn't remember why she was here, but it must be for a good reason. And she wasn't about to call her mother and ask, because she wasn't a child. She would remember sooner or later, or everyone would come back from sunbathing or whatever else they were amusing themselves with.

She left a short note on the kitchen table -- odd that they'd rented an apartment suite and not a beach house, especially one so cluttered -- so that no one would worry if they returned before she did. Then she checked her pockets to make sure she had sufficient money, and checked and double-checked the phone to be sure she would know the right number to call in an emergency.

And then Alexandra was going exploring. Perhaps there would be some interesting souvenirs in town, or an arcade of some variety. Though if anyone discovered her in an arcade, she would lie and say she had been asking directions.

(establishy! open if you want to deal with the wee pretentious one)

Apr. 13th, 2010

thoughtful listening laundromat

Basement of Ill Repute, Late Monday Evening

Alex was relieved she'd encountered Ziva today, at the Perk. To learn that Gibbs's daughter was his, but not from a messy divorce. Just from a time before his life had gone to hell.

She had been out walking earlier, wondering how someone even came to terms with such a nightmare, when she'd seen the gathering in the park. Teary-eyed teenagers, sending off young children through a strange silvery glowing gate that looked straight out of something on the Sci-Fi channel.

She didn't want to pry. She also didn't think Gibbs should have to be alone, right now. So she had let herself in to the basement with a bottle of Scotch.

If somehow he came back with Kelly, she'd hide in a broom closet if she had to. Maybe Fate was giving them both a second chance.

But Alex didn't really trust Fate or anything else in this world to be kind.

(Basement modded with famous_gut's permission, and it's just for him, please.)

Mar. 25th, 2010

facepalm headache now

MCA #3, Thursday Night

Alex had been expecting Gibbs at her apartment this evening. It had been an odd week, but that just meant they needed an evening of staying in and drinking wine all the more. When Gibbs didn't show, she figured something had come up. It was the way the job went. He'd contact her when he could.

Ten minutes later, she realized there was a scratching sound at her door. She opened it to reveal a large, friendly-looking German shepherd: no tags, no collar, and no identification. Someone else in the building must have let their dog out.

Time to call the super and see if anyone had reported a missing dog. And even though she knew better, she still reached out to scritch the dog's ears. He (she?) just looked so friendly. If he bit her, she'd have no one to blame but herself.

When the dog trotted inside, sweet as pie, and jumped onto her couch, that was when she began to suspect.

"Okay," she said. "If you're just a homeless dog, I'm going to name you Gibbs anyway and sic you on him. Deal?"

The cheery bark of agreement did nothing to quell her fears. This island was so weird.

(famous_gut modded with permission -- Gibbs is puppy-fied for the time being while the mun has availability issues. Alex hates this island, as always.)

Mar. 8th, 2010

facepalm headache now

MCA #3, Monday

It wasn't the hooker part that bothered her.

It wasn't even that the hooker had apparently been paid for by a political campaign, in order to service the candidate. Which pissed off every last principle she still had.

No, it was the fact that the hooker in question had been dumber than a box of hair that was pissing Alex off the most.

... that, and the sudden realization that she had cheated on Gibbs this weekend, and wasn't even entirely sure who with. Wade? Did she know a Wade?

It was never too early to start drinking. Not on this fucking island.

(establishy! also open! viva le au!)

Mar. 6th, 2010

[au - maybe a massage]

MCA #3, Saturday Afternoon

Nikki woke up early -- just after noon, in fact. She didn't recognize the room. Had they moved her to a new apartment last night? Must be a new assignment. Good. She hoped the politician was hot this time.

Not that it mattered: a paycheck was a paycheck.

The closet was filled with stodgy business suits -- the usual camouflage for when she pretended to be an important consultant. Near the back were some outfits that looked more like her, so she pulled one of those on.

Most of the bills were addressed to "Alex Cabot." He must be the bigshot paying the bills. Lots of legal stuff, so apparently he was a lawyer?

For now, anyway. He must be running for something. DA? Governor? He had her full support, whatever it was.

Nikki was bored. So she was going to go out on the town, see if she could drum up some business, or at least meet her newest client.

They didn't call her the Executive Director of Internal Liaisons because they expected her to type.

(OOC: Alex Cabot is Nikki White from Head of State, a "consultant" who is actually a high-paid escort on the campaign whose job it is to sleep with the candidate so as to avoid unsavory sex scandals. Because, really, how was I supposed to resist that? Open if anyone wants, but this is mostly establishy, and late as hell because today was looooong.)

Dec. 30th, 2009

phone - informal

MCA #3, Wednesday Morning

Alex Cabot was making a phone call. A very important one.

"Yes, thank you. I'd like to speak to Jack McCoy, please. ... Jack McCoy. ... He's an Executive Assistant District Attorney? ... Oh. I see. Elizabeth Donnelly, then? ... She's the EADA connected to the Special Victims Unit. ............. Okay. Humor me. What's the District Attorney's name? ... Yes, I'm perfectly serious. .......... Thank you very much. That's all I needed. Uh-huh. You have a great day."

Quickly followed by a second one, to Gibbs.

"Pack your tux. Rent one, if you have to. We're going."

She didn't know what New York City they were headed to -- dimensional stuff made her brain hurt -- but it certainly wasn't hers.

Times Square, here they went ...

(this is entirely famous_gut's fault/idea/inspiration/what-have-you, and Gibbs was modded with permission as a result!)

Dec. 28th, 2009

ooc fairy icon

OOC: Concepts of Justice and the Law: Class Info

Class InfoCollapse )

SyllabusCollapse )


Alex needs one, please! Actually two would be nice. If I have more than two volunteers, I'll RNG. The RNG has spoken! All hail the mighty RNG.


I might have answers! Try me!

Oct. 4th, 2009

nothing i can do

MCA #3, Late Sunday Night

"I wish you didn't have to go," Alex sighed. This town must be getting to her; she didn't usually state the obvious like that. "I mean, I'm not ... gonna beg you to stay or anything. Your whole life is back in New York. I just ... hate saying good-bye."

At least this time, they got to say good-bye. Last time had been a little rushed.

(for the dedicated cop that needs to go back to being one of new york's finest)

Oct. 2nd, 2009

benson/cabot bw

Cabot and Associates, Friday

Alex was sad to be losing one of her employees, but early admission to Harvard was a much better career move than graduating from Fandom High School. Pretty damn impressive. Still, she'd miss having Turtle around.

So she was in the office, poking away at some particularly stubborn case files and wondering if she should have agreed to sue some gremlins, for Jack. At least that would be a case, right?

Best Non-Client EverCollapse )

Olivia! Olivia was here. She should have figured that, somehow, Olivia would find her again. Witness Protection had nothing on a hot New York cop.

(Preplay with the made-of-win dedicated_cop, who rocks. Not posted in Townies because Cabot and Associates is not going to be open today, after all. And Alex and Olivia probably have to make a few pit-stops before they get to the bar. Several. NFI, totally okay for broadcast, and OOC is love.)

Sep. 23rd, 2009

[male - smug]

The Best Hotdog Vendor In All of New York City, Late Tuesday Evening (NFB)

Alex was practically glowing. Alex was so happy that she wouldn't even object to someone saying she glowed. She'd laugh, uproariously. And spin around and soak it all in.

She loved this city. She loved every last crumbling inch of the old whore. She was home.

That stupid island she'd been stuck on, in Witness Protection, had given her a male body for the day, for no fucking reason. And she'd griped about it, until Gibbs had pointed out that this was a far better disguise than anything the Feds could cook up.

It meant she was free to go home, even if just for the day. So she'd taken Gibbs on a whirlwind tour of the city. She had to point out that one spot, the one that made way better falafel than anywhere else on the east coast. And she took him down to 60 Centre Street, the courthouse, just so she could stand on those steps and drink it in.

And on. And on. Not the usual touristy crap, but the places that had made this her home, for so much of her life.

And now? And now they were getting a dog from the best fucking vendor in all of Manhattan, because they could.

"You missed out on Barney's," she laughed. "Amazing shopping, but I can't try on any shoes today, anyway."

Yes, she was going to talk with her mouth full. She was a New Yorker.

(for one! NFB-distance! thanks to famous_gut for the kickass idea! gibbs modded with permission! batteries not included! see packaging for details!)

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