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Jack
Twenty six and wise beyond her years. Or rather, cynical beyond her years. Harleen Quinzel had apparently seen some shit. Whether he was supposed to empathize with her, regard her with a new level of respect or simply trust in the fact that age and experience were not always exclusive of one another, he cared not. Jack had asked her one question and the good doctor had given him two answers. She had slipped. He considered the first round of this arbitrary game he played to pass the time, his.
So he waited with all the patience of a man who only had time on his hands as Dr. Quinzel moved toward the door and sent her guard on a goose chase of an errand. Alone at last.
When Harleen returned, she was all feathers fluffed and quills standing on end, a creature trying to make itself look larger than it was in an attempt to scare off any would be predators. Jack did not doubt her threat and imagined a pen in Harleen Quinzel’s hand would have been dangerous on several different levels. He kept the fact that he was familiar enough with human anatomy to know how to kill someone with a paper clip to himself, and simply looked back at Harleen in silence. It did not take her long to get to her point. She wanted to know what it was like to watch a man die. Something in the quiver of her upper left lip suggested it was not a man but rather a specific man that she wondered after.
Jack’s expression matched the dull, humdrum walls around him as he contemplated her request.
When he felt a sufficient enough amount of time had passed to suggest the full weight of consideration had been given to her query, he spoke at last. “You are interested in the things that make a person tick. They’re motivations. The things that move them, inspire them, speak to them. You are not so much concerned with the actions themselves, but the why behind them.” It made sense. She was in a field that attempted to study the mind and behavior. Which motor neurons in the brain elicit muscular spasms? Which sensory receptors respond to which stimuli? Chemoreceptors and photoreceptors -- Thermo receptors and Nociceptors. All the things that made a man move his foot forward, feel pain or feel euphoria. She sought to understand all of that, not just the what and the how but the why.
“I am the same,” he explained at last. His decision made, he unfolded his legs and let them swing freely over the bed. “I am very interested in the why, Dr. Quinzel. Why are you so interested in a man’s last moments before death. Why ask me?” Jack’s smile did not make it all the way up to his eyes. “If you want my cooperation, I would know your reasons."
"Come, come, come, Dr. Q. Don’t hold anything back.”
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Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.
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