"W-well I.. I--uh..." A nosebleed; Jonathan's worst nightmare. He detests getting blood on his coat, to the extent of even cleaning it off with a mop- while he's still wearing it. "W-we certainly wouldn't want t-t-that, would w-we?" He then went back to his nervous stammering.
Becoming very, very uncomfortable in such a short time, Miller took another step backwards and tripped over his own leg. Unable to form any coherent sentence from his embarrassment, he simply stared up at her, his face lit as red as blood.
[Sorry for the absence. On a self-ordained break from the internet. I need to get my social life somewhat set back up.]
"Definitely. I called in for about a week's worth of vacation now actually. It began yesterday. Problem is, I'm so boring that I don't know what to do for the rest of the week!" The man again scratched the back of his head and chuckled.
'Ah. I don't really watch that much television. What, with a job that requires 21 hours of service." Jonathan scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Oh come on...! I may be good at guessing, but out of a billion different programs? That's a little unfair don't you think?" Miller threw his arms into the air to emphasize the immensity of his options.
Miller aimlessly wandered around the apartment, trying to come up with something to ask her. Tell her. Something to come out of his mouth other than berating words.
"Courtesan... I'll see if I can pay a visit-- not for the courtesan! O-obviously not." Jonathan brushed his hair back with a hand, trying to hide his obviously flustered features. "Y-yeah..."
"My phone number. Call whenever, since so far I just work in a lab. It's on the back of the check. ... White it out when you're done with it." Miller took another drag of his cigarette and gazed off in the distance. "Special guest, huh? Sounds nice."
"You'll be paid via check." Jonathan removed a checkbook from his coat pocket and wrote out the amount: $47,000. He then handed her the check. "For you."
"... Jesus. Remind me never to piss you off, eh?" Trying to laugh his way out of the situation, Miller called for a squad car to take the copycat killer away. "If you're ever looking for another job, I'm sure I can work something out for you. You do have a phone, right?"
Hearing the sudden chatter over his earpiece, Miller turned around and bolted into the scene. "Over already? Damn." He stared the creep, who was now yelping like a cornered animal. "... Y'know, that actually looks good on you." The man chuckled as the copycat killer begs for mercy.
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