(no subject)

[sunnydalealum]

Meg's cellphone buzzes once with a particular prearranged ringtone, and goes silent: the go signal.

The walls of the office building offer no resistance.

If the internal layout matches the map Angel and his people provided, the detention cells should be two floors down.

Comments

[balletrat]

*It's strange, pushing herself through the floor - something like swimming, or diving, neither of which Meg has ever been particularly skilled in. And it's very disconcerting to think that one might just keep going down, and down, and down . . .

But it's the fastest way, so she grits her teeth and jumps down, and then hastily concentrates enough to stop herself at the right floor.

She's pretty sure it's the right floor, anyways.

Now to find the cells.*

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

Jonathan is aware that he's probably under surveillance.

That's why he's sitting perfectly calmly in his cell, just to piss them off.

[balletrat]

*Shouting 'hey, Jonathan!' is probably a bad plan, Meg tells herself.

So instead, she starts cautiously poking her head through doors.

Which is how Meg's face (but none of the rest of her) comes to appear through the door of Jonathan's cell.*

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

Jonathan looks up, startled, and blinks at the face.

"...Meg?"

[balletrat]

- there you are.

*Looking relieved, Meg shoves the rest of herself through the door and then attempts to lean back against it without falling through.*

How many dungeons does one evil law firm need, anyways? - don't answer that, I don't want to know.

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

"This one? Plenty." He was still looking more than a little confused. "Not that it's not good to see you, but... what are you doing here?"

[balletrat]

*Meg grins, a little wryly.*

Good question, *she says, and then pronounces the key phrase, just a little more precisely than in her usual speech.*

Are you ready to remember?

[sunnydalealum]

-- Forty hours ago --

"...Like we did with Connor, back in LA. It's the only way to be sure. Otherwise they'll look in my head and see exactly what the plan is, and then we're screwed."

"And you can work one of those on yourself?" Andrew does not look sanguine about the idea.

"Not a problem. We just need to set up a way to trigger the memory retrieval --"

-- Four hours ago --

Meg focuses intently on her own hand where it rests on the tabletop, and slowly presses down and through --

-- Two and a half hours ago --

Jonathan's voice is steady as he cups his hand around the burning herbs. "Tabula Rasa. Tabula Rasa. Tabula Rasa --"

-- Now

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

His eyes widen, and then his expression turns to determination as he remembers the truth of what he's doing there, and what he's meant to do next.

"I am. It's showtime."

[sunnydalealum]

The door of the cell is locked from the outside, and fairly thick, but it's not designed to hold anything stronger than the average human.

Which is what Levinson is, right?

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

Of course.

That's why he can kick the door open so easily, now the time's right.

It doesn't lead to the hallway.

[bloodandnicotine]

No, it leads to here instead.

Here, where a certain few people have been Sitting Tight and Waiting To Be Called For.

[balletrat]

Jonathan's part of the plan seems to be well underway, so Meg gives him an encouraging nod and moves to her next task - getting outside, and spreading the word.

Passing through the walls is easier now. She counts them off, mentally, remembering the way she's come: room, hallway, room, room, hallway, room, and -

This should be it.

[sunnydalealum]

This is, in fact, the proverbial it.

There's a window in this room, showing the streetlit winter night outside. The only thing between her and the second part of her mission is a few thicknesses of brick and plaster.



And it won't let her through.

[balletrat]

There is only one thing, really, to say right now.

Meg says it.

Pardon her French.