Triskele

"You've got my test results, right?" she asked later, coming back by his office.

"Almost," he said, turning his attention away from Jordan.

"Tick tock, tick tock," she said before turning and leaving.

"She told you about her family after she bit your head off?" Jordan asked skeptically, watching her leave.

"Not much, but quite enlightening really," he admitted. "She's a typical British rich girl: boarding schools, holiday at the family manors, etiquette classes, Victorian grandparent who insists on perfect behavior. She probably even goes fox hunting."

"Snooty," Jordan concluded with a smile. "And she chose to mingle with us commoners, huh?"

"Be nice," he grinned. "She's actually easy to talk to. You should try it sometime."

"Please, she won't even give me the time of day," she said. "Though I can't say I really blame her." That and she's a total bitch.

"Why not just go and try to talk to her," he suggested, turning to a file on his desk. "Here, take her these." Nigel pushed what was obviously the test results Bevan had been asking about.

"Smooth Nige," she said, "You going to let me give her some chocolates too? How about a bouquet?"

He grinned and raised his eyebrows, "Just something to break the ice."

~~~~

Jordan knocked on Bevan's door, before going inside anyway.

"Dr. Townsend if those aren't the. . ." she looked up and raised her eyebrows. Bevan cleared her throat softly. "Dr. Cavanaugh, what a surprise, sit down please. I was just trying to trace a license plate."

"Nigel finished those tests," she said, laying the folder on her desk.

"That was unusually quick," Bevan commented with an amused smiled. She turned back to her computer. "Usually he waits until I'm about to leave. He seems to enjoy provoking me. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Jordan raised her eyebrow and looked at Bevan wondering how she knew exactly what everyone was about to do? And was that an actual smile on her face?

"I was just bringing you these files," she said, motioning towards them.

"Dr. Cavanaugh, if I could address our lovely conversation the other day."

"About that," Jordan began, "I would apologize, but . . ."

"But then you'd be lying," Bevan filled in, beginning to type again. "Honestly, Dr. Cavanaugh, do you think it's the first time that I've been called cold or heartless?"

"I'm going to say no and hope you take it the right way," she said with a wry smile.

"Taken as it should be." Bevan smiled, looking at her. "Would you like to know what I think about you?"

Ooh boy. "Shoot."

"You lack professionalism and the unemotional objectivity that is needed nine times out of ten," she said bluntly, then smiled. "And it makes you damn good at what you do."

Jordan looked at her with a confused face. "So...you mean you actually think I'm okay?"

"None of us are okay in this field," Bevan grinned, "but if you're asking if I like you as a person, then yes."

"So even after all the digging and poking around looking for information about you. . ."

"And calling my former supervisors at LA, and New York. Yes, Dr. Cavanaugh, I think you're an okay person," Bevan admitted, an amused smirk on her face.

"Call me Jordan," she told her. Okay, maybe she's not that big of a bitch after all.

"I'll try, but I slip up sometimes," she said, turning back to the computer. "And I'll try to lighten up. I know I'm a bit uptight, but this is a male dominated field, and I've gotten a long way with being a hard ass."

"I can see that," Jordan agreed, then smiled. "I think we're going to get along just fine."

"Good. Because, quite frankly, Garret isn't that much fun to talk to," she said.

"You talk to Nigel all the time."

"Argue with him," Bevan corrected. "We've had all of one civil conversation since I arrived. Though that seems to be the norm with me right now. The only ones who I have talked to person to person is Lily and occasionally Bug."

"What about Trey?"

"I’ve never see him," she said, turning back to the monitor. "Damn, car was scrapped about two hours ago. I need a new computer, this one's about shot."