Interviewing the Interesting (Conners)

The message had come in.

When she had arrived home from her trip. The light blinked. So often, it was a dark window. But, today, the little red number blinked. Informing her of the message hidden within the digital tape. And thus, she had listened. The police. Kimber had been witness, to an accident. Or what she thought was one anyway. She had waited, hours, within the bar and finally a man came. Took her information. Left.

She had not heard from anyone since then.

Months had passed.

Kimber had begun to forget.

So she went to her closet, and she picked out a nice outfit. Took a warm shower. Letting the water slide down her silently. She missed noise, sometimes. When she was in her own apartment. When she was alone. It was silent. When she let her aura go. It was deadly silent. There were times, she almost wished, for .. something.

Kimber dawned her outfit and she picked up her violin. She never went anywhere without one. Before she left. She messaged the interpretor service. Explaining she needed an interpretor and right away.

**20 minutes later**

Kimber sat. The wooden bench was hard, and her rear already felt the pain of sitting there. She was not being treated as a criminal. Though, she was awfully close for any comfort to be had, to those waiting for their decisions. People cuffed to the cinder block wall. Some in certain kinds of restraints. She assumed. To keep their powers in check. Kimber sat. Hands softly in her lap. Having given her name, on a card, to the detective at the front desk. She was asked to wait.

Wishing now, that she had brought a book. It had already been some time. It seemed each new tick of the clock brought her more boredom. The mind numbing kind. She would never make it in solitary. It was a good thing then, she never intended to see one. Or commit a crime. Still, sitting here, made her nervous. She was, of course, terrified that something would come to her. Someone would have mentioned seeing her. Implicate her in something she had not done.

Perhaps she was not here for the accident in Librium at all. But for some other thing she had been close to. The nerves were mounting.

Psycological warfare, for sure.

The glass door swung open with a crash as the metal frame slammed in to the stone wall of the building. A dwarf with huge arms was begin dragged through by two burly officers in jumpsuit uniforms that read "METAHUMAN CRIME" in bold letters on their backs. Captain Jack Conners, their Division Chief, walked briskly behind them, still in his tactical vest. He hadn't come in to the Bastion Police headquarters with files in his hands, but he had them by the time he was entering his division.

This girl is here to give a statement on a crime committed in Librium? LIBRIUM!? Jensen! Why do I care about crime in Librium?

...because we are trying to foster good relations with the Terran Guard?

That stopped Jack halfway through the "bullpen" area of desks. He looked at Jensen, a man of similar build in a dark blue jumpsuit like the other two officers had been wearing, with a dazed and enlightened look on his face.

Son of a bitch...good catch Jensen.

Conners continued his tirade through the office, checking various officers' work and shouting orders which got men running. The man walked with a determined pace and finally walked in to an office and shut the door. The frosted glass on the door had embossed golden lettering on the door that read "Captain Jack Conners."

Inside his office, Jack poured through paperwork that had once again found its way to his desk. Each one got him more and more irritated: The charity ball for the MHC's opening was being moved up to next week, the Terran Guard were demanding that they accept a liaison, the Terran Guard's diplomatic inspector was delayed until after the charity ball, the department was cutting down on coffee. Things just kept piling on, this was ridiculous.

Move! You dense lummox! Now, Sit!

The two large officers planted the dwarf on the middle of the bench where Kimber was sitting. The dwarf snarled and spoke in rough dwarven at the officers.

Do us a favor, why don't you just drink yourself a nice glass of shut the hell up!?

The officers completed shackling the dwarf and left. The dwarf immediately turned its attention to the pretty young thing on the end of the bench.

[Chief...are you gonna interview that Grace woman? The Guard asked that you do it yourself.] The intercom clicked over in Conners' office. [She looks like she'd being harassed by that dwarf you just brought in...what's his name....uh...]

Anvilhammer. Thanks Jensen.

Jack was out of his chair in a flash, the Terran Guard's folder in hand. The door flew open and he made a beeline to the cuff bench. Why that poor woman had chosen that place to sit, Jack could only conjecture.

(Dwarven) What's the matter...you don't want to be my little porcelain sword haft?

Jack slammed the dwarf's head back in to the cinder-block wall behind him.

(Dwarven) Watch your tongue, Anvilhammer...or I'll reliquish you from yours! (Human Basic) Ms. Grace?

Jack's tone had changed from a cutting acid one at the dwarf to a kind and gentle one for Kimber. He motioned towards an interrogation room.

Right this way, please.

Kimber jumped.

The doors burst open, and she couldn't help but watch. There was a spectacle. Two men were dragging a raging dwarf in. Kimber's eyes were wide. She had been told to sit here. She had not been offered a thing. No drinks. Snacks. Restroom breaks. Even a kind word that the man she was here to see would be here momentarily. It was honestly, as if, once again, Kimber Grace had slipped from the minds of those around her. Completely forgettable.

The men muscled the dwarf into the seat. Right beside her. She tried to be subtle. But the dwarf watched as she slid. Sliding herself down the bench as far from him as possible. Her eyes frantically looked away. Trying to catch the gaze of any number of the police men. Obviously, she couldn't ask for help. Scream for help. Or even knock on a wooden bench to recieve attention.

She was alone. Again.

Kimber was seriously beginning to regret coming in today. It wasn't as though they would arrest her for it. Or they would have eventually come to her. In the future. Police would have to make the treck. She refused to do this again.

The dwarf smiled. A smile filled with rotten teeth and stinking breath. He spoke to her. Whispers in dwarven. A language she did not know. But, she could tell from the tone in his voice. Whatever he spoke of was.. horrible. Kimber was shaking. Trembling slightly. Nearly ready to get up and leave when..

..the man's head snapped into the wall and a man stood there. A human man. By his dress, demeanor, and everything she figured he was one of the cops. Perhaps a detective. She didn't know. But she was grateful for the respite.

He looked to her, and inquired as to her name. She merely nodded. Fingers wrapping around the pink violin case that matched her outfit, she rose. Smoothing her skirt down, she followed. Making not a sound. Not a rustle, not a squeak, not even a tap of her heals. She followed like a ghost, if he was to notice. Though she doubted he would. Most didn't. And the place was noisy enough that he probably wouldn't. Kimber moved into the interrogation room. Such a harsh name. And sat in the even more uncomfortable chair on the opposite side of the table bolted to the floor.

Setting her violin down by her feet. Hands folded gently on the table. Her eyes looked at Jack expectantly. Waiting.

Jack walked towards the interrogation room door, and opened it for her. Ms. Grace entered without a sound, placing her case next to the chair and sat. Her hands still trembled a little while she tried to put them together on the table. Jack sat across from her and smiled a warm smile. It was possibly the first smile she had gotten in the station house.

Don't let him bother you, you're...

With that word, he touched her hands to comfort her. They stopped trembling at his touch, but the words were spoken...but no sound came. When Jack finally pulled his hand back, he should his head in a minor bit of disbelief.

I just lost my hearing...I didn't hear myself finish that sentence. No matter...just need more sleep.

He hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately. Part of it was the mounting stress with the MHC and the Terran Guard liaisons that were coming, the other was far more personal. Amanda, his six year old daughter, had been having nightmares. Most of them were about werewolves and she said she could "feel them." Just the thought made Jack shudder. Needless to say, Amanda usually woke her dear old dad up and would sleep in the bed with him for protection.

I'm...sorry Ms. Grace. Anyway, we will be recording this interview pertaining to the accident you witnessed in the City of Librium a couple of months ago.

Pausing for a moment to push the record button on the recorder and to pull up the list of questions the Terran Guard has sent over, Jack spoke in to the recorder.

Metahuman Crimes tape number 00-752, subject: Ms. Kimber Grace, witness. Terran Guard Case file number 901-113-45 X-ray. Captain Jack Conners interviewing.

Ms. Grace can you relate to me what you were doing before you witnessed the accident in question?

She barely noticed her trembling.

Until, that was, he called attention to it. She was surprised he was reading out to her. Most didn't. Though, he was still naive. He had no idea what was going on. What she was. The curse she held. Or how, she would never spend a day, hearing her voice. Or that of a child she held in her arms. Or her husband.. or date. She figured it would have to start with a date. Something she had never had. A picnic once. With a fellow named Angelo. He had never called back. She didn't blame him.

His hand lay over her own. His voice left him.

She was certain, if she ever found a friend, it would be a null. Someone that could cancel out the way she silenced the world.

Slowly, so as not to offend, she pulled her hands back. Down into her lap. Clasping them gently. Where was the interpreter? The problem with them, and calling at short notice, was they had to arrive. She had been here for some time. Half an hour at least. But one never knew, when they would get there. If they would even arrive in time.

When they got down to business. He mentioned, this was about the accident. She was shocked they waited so long. Perhaps though, they had some sort of lead. She was unaware. But she nodded anyway. Just because she was mute, did not mean she was deaf. He mentioned they would be recorded. She was interested in that. Seeing as she could not speak. Apparently, he was unaware, or had not read the file thoroughly, or whomever had gotten her information had decided it was not important.

Regardless, he would find out soon.

He spoke code into the machine. Then asked her a question. Kimber took a deep breath and sighed. Silently. Her interpreter was still not here. So she lifted her hand, and put two fingers on the table, and they walked across the table slowly for emphasis. Then she pointed to herself. Essentially, saying she was walking. Then.. both her hands lifted and she began to sign.

Her hands moving beautifully, artistically, and with great deal of native talent that came with using this method for speech on a daily basis, at least.. with herself and the very few people in her life that knew the language. Telling him about her heading back from a concert.

The woman across the table seemed to regard Jack with some curiosity as he prepared the room and recorder for the interviewer. Conners didn't see what was so interesting, it was just a tape recorder and a metal table. Nothing of real note. Kimber Grace didn't respond to the question the way that Jack was expecting.

She used her hands.

The woman seemed to pause, and then made a motion as if she was walking on the table. Before Jack could say another word, she rose her hands and moved them in very directed, specific motions. All Jack could do for a moment was stare, in disbelief and awe mixed together. Kimber's hands were delicate and they flowed through signs as would a person who had considerable experience with the practice. Jack found himself nodding, almost as if he understood the words she was trying to convey.

Subject...uh...appears to be waving her hands in a means to of communication. I cannot confirm if it is sign language at this time.

Kimber seemed to give him a glare as she stopped moving her hands.

Subject has stopped.

Ms. Grace, are you using sign language to communicate?

He nodded.

For a moment. Just one single moment. For the first time in a long time. She felt hope. Hope, that she had not even felt. Not since the day she met the avian Seinshun. In the park. Not since, then. Had she felt like this.

Then the hope disipated. He began to speak. Not to her. To the recorder. Calling her 'subject'. Kimber did not like that. Not at all. Her face fell. Eyes shifted to the side. Leaning back. She crossed her delicate arms over her chest. She was angry. Kimber could not actually remember the last time she was angry. Anger was something she rarely felt. Kimber was the kind of girl that had patience for days. Probably because of her condition.

However, the word subject, brought back bad memories. Memories of the tests. The experiments. The things, as a child, she had gone through. When her parents tried to figure out what was wrong with her. The horror, when they found it would only get worse, and never better. Kimber was a freak of nature.

He asked after the sign language.

She nodded. It was rude not to answer.

She felt as though, they were at an impasse. She felt no need to continue trying to communicate. Obviously, he was a jerk. Besides that, he would not be able to understand her. Even though she wished that was so, it was not. No one ever did. Kimber was once again reminded, there was not a single place, she fit in, in this world.

Kimber Grace may not have been able to talk, but her facial expressions spoke volumes. She was not pleased about things happening in the interrogation room, and Jack couldn't blame her. Who doesn't notate that someone coming in to give a statement was mute? That was just shoddy policework, and that was unacceptable in his Division and his Department.

He reached over and stopped the recorder.

This...isn't going great is it?

Kimber had her arms crossed across her chest and simply nodded, her eyes like blue stone. She simply nodded in agreement, once.

You must think I'm some huge jerk...huh?

Once again, a single nod was her reply.

Ok, he rubbed his face softly with both hands, like he was trying to wake up, I am really sorry about this happening to you. Nobody told me you didn't speak. Listen, we will get you an interpreter, and we can do this right. Do you think you'd give me the chance to try this again?

Kimber sat there, chuckling silently and nodded once again. Jack smiled at her for the chance.

Fantastic! Could I get you a drink or something so I seem really omniscient and nice on the second try? The second he uttered the words, he knew he had made a mistake.

A coy smile crossed Kimber's face as she, once again, simply nodded. There was no way for Conners to know what kind of drink she wanted. At that moment, he was hit with a stroke of genius.

Would you like water, he held up his index finger, juice, he then raised his middle finger, soda, his ring finger joined the duo, or coffee? his pinky finished the line.

Seemingly holding in silent laughter, Kimber held up four fingers: coffee. Jack turned towards the door and stated he would be right back, and left the room. He crossed the room and grabbed her a black coffee, stuffing some sugar packets and creamer in his pockets and throwing two swizzle sticks in the cup itself. On the way back, he grabbed a legal pad from his own desk and a couple of pens. Tucking the pad under an arm, he opened the door to the same interrogation room.

Ms. Grace? Hi. My name is Jack Conners, and I'm the Division Head here at the MetaHuman Crime unit. Its a pleasure to meet you.

He smiled warmly at her as he placed the coffee in front of her, and deposited the creamers and sugar. Sitting on his own side, he placed the pad and pens in front of himself.

I figured, through excellent police work of course, that you could use some coffee. I also know, through me being a complete idiot, that you don't speak and use an interpreter. Well, I brought the next best thing. Would you care to please write down your statement?

Sliding the pad across the table, Jack tried to get comfortable while Kimber wrote her statement down. He still felt bad about not coming off well, but there wasn't much he could do for it now.

He was trying. He really was.

For that, she appreciated it. Because, to be honest, she was tired of people discounting her. They often did. She was a silent girl. She was slight. She was shy. Unless she was on the stage with her instrument in hand, she tended to be overlooked. When she was on stage. She shone. That was her element. The one place. Where Kimber came out. Where she showed what was really within. Where people could see, without the need for wards. Exactly, what she was.

The way he communicated now. Was perfect.

He left the room.

Kimber sat. Waiting. Patiently. She checked her phone. To see if there were any messages from the Interpreting service. But no. She frowned. If they never made it, at least she would never have to pay them. But it would save her wrist from writing. She assumed that was next.

Sure enough, she was right. He came into the room. Coffee in hand. A notepad, pen, and sugars. Kimber smiled. Sitting up, she pulled the warm cup close. Holding, the cup in her hands. She added two sugars and a cream. Stirring slowly while she watched him. Those blue eyes. They were deep, and soft. They were gentle, and showed a caring and intelligence beyond her ears. She had been forced to grow up quickly. Forced to become an adult before she had been ready. But it mattered not.

Kimber was who she was.

She was surprised to know he was the head of the Meta-Human Division. She had never known there was one. But then, she supposed she would. This was her first time here anyway. Kimber agreed to writing the statement though.

After a sip of her coffee, she pulled the yellow paper pad close to her. Picking up the pen, she silently uncapped it and set it down to the right of the pad. Her eyes flicked to him, and then back to the pad. Giving a large sigh, she began to write. Luckily, there wasn't much to say. Car accident, was what it had looked like. She remembered the flames, the screams, and the police officer telling her to wait it out in a bar. That was, about it. So she wrote. Silently. And then sent the pad across the table. Capping the pen again.

A knock sounded on the door. A woman poked her head into the room.

"Excuse me, I'm Miss Grace's Interpreter." she said warmly as she signed to Kimber and Kimber shrugged, waiting. To see if the man needed more information.

The second the pad slid back across the table, Jack took it in his hand and quickly began to peruse her writings. First thing that struck Jack was the sheer elegance of her handwriting. Her words and sentences flowed in beautiful curves that almost resembled Kimber's hands when she signed. It simply took him in and told him a story...almost as if Kimber had a voice through non-spoken words.

Hmmm. Kimber..err, Ms. Grace, it looks like you really didn't see much of anything. I'm sorry about having you come in and having to go through all of this just...

A head poked in to the interrogation room. A woman who identified herself as Kimber's interpreter entered the room and made a motion to the young woman across from Jack.

Ah...you are the interpreter for Ms. Grace. Your name is?

The woman turned and regarded Conners with an unamused stare. Obviously, she wasn't used to being addressed so...gruffly.

"My name is Laura McDaniel, and I am with the Interpreter Service that Ms. Grace hired to facilitate conversation."

Conners nodded, already fed up with this woman's snooty attitude.

Well, Ms. McDaniel, I believe Ms. Grace and have facilitated conversation quite well in the time it took you to travel seven blocks. It couldn't have been much more than that if your building is in downtown proper. Ms. Grace has had to sit near criminals and unsavory people for nearly thirty minutes before I could see her.

That doesn't seem very fair to her...I hope she's not paying you. I don't tip the pizza man if he takes more than twenty minutes. Bastion is not a large city.

The last comments were more directed at Kimber. Jack hated when people took advantage of other's situations...and he wouldn't stand for it. Especially not in his own Division.

It was true.

She had not seen much. At least, she didn't think so. She had written everything she could think of down. It had been months. The memories were already beginning to fade. She remembered the fire. The smells of burning rubber. The smoke. She remembered the screach of the cars. She remembered the clash of metal. She remembered the rude police officer that sent her into a bar to wait.

All of that, she remembered. Written it down for the Captain.

When the interpreter came in, Kimber was a little relieved. Even though, it seemed as though they were done. Captain Conners began to dig into the interpreter. Kimber realized, that he was a very rash man. One that did not always think. Before he acted. A shame. Because, he was very smart, but sometimes, tended to realize his mistakes, but a little late.

"I... " Laura began. Her face worried, as she learned that Kimber had been in the lobby. With criminals. For half an hour. "I'm very sorry Miss Grace. I was on the other side of the city when they called me. As soon as my current job was over I rushed over as fast as I could, the agency didn't say it was an emergency."

Kimber stood. Held her hand up to Laura. Who paused and then, she motioned to herself. Holding up her hands. Ready to sign. Kimber wasn't going to stand for this. Besides that, Jack Conners needed to be told a few things. When Laura nodded that she had cleared her mind and was ready Kimber began. Even her signs showed h frustration. She wasn't angry. It took a lot to anger Kimber, but she certainly wasn't pleased.

~First of all, Captain it was not her, but your people that put me on the bench with the criminals. In fact, taking a dwarf that took three officers to bring into the office.. and placing him on the bench right next to me. Knowing, I was no criminal, nor would I wish to be sitting next to one that said very dirty things to me in dwarven.

Furthermore. I have used Laura many times. She is not flighty. There are times though, the small agency is all used up and I have to wait. It is one of the many things about my life I have had to deal with. Along with people not understanding me, judging me, and making assumptions. I am not helpless. I managed just fine, with your help. I do not think Laura needs to be blamed.

Now, you have your statement. I will go now. Good day to you, Jack.~

Laura's eyes were wide. She had never actually seen Kimber upset. And on her behalf. That was something large. Kimber was soft, sweet, kind. Had a heart and soul deeper than any well. She was the kind of sweetness this world needed. Truly a shame that she was incapable of speaking. Kimber leaned down and grabbed her violin case. Exited the room swiftly.

The woman from the interpreting agency was sufficiently chastised by Jack's words, and she began to apologize to Kimber, and Jack thought that to be a job well done. however, to Jack's surprise, Kimber was not as appreciative as he had hoped she would be. Through the interpreter she explained how she trusted Laura and that his men placed her in the vile situation in which she had waited.

Well, she had him there.

In the same way that Jack had chastised Laura for her being late did Kimber, through Laura, chastise Jack for being, for lack of a proper word, a pretentious ass. Ms. Grace did not seem to think too highly of Captain Conners at the moment. It almost seemed like she was upset with him. The weirdest thing was that she seemed to be new to the emotion, as if she hadn't been or wasn't used to being upset.

I didn't...

With that, they had left. The door to the interrogation room was almost closed when Jack leapt from the chair. Opening the door to see the two female forms walking briskly towards the glass doors. Conners was quick to follow.

Ms. Grace! Wait, please.

When the ladies stopped, the glass entrance door was slightly ajar, being held open by Laura. Kimber regarded the man who jogged up to them.

I'm sorry...to the both of you. I didn't mean anything by it, with everything coming up and Amanda and her nightmares...its just been the day from hell. You shouldn't be forced through the same. Ms. Grace, this is my card, please call if you have anything else to add, or need anything at all. Thank you for coming in...

He handed Kimber his card, even including a personal number on the back, written in blue ink. Turning slowly to gather his things from the interrogation room, Jack wondered how he could have ended up being on such a tiff with everything today.