An Interesting Turn of Events - Ellen (11)

I was not happy about Scarlett. And I was not happy with Greg for introducing Scarlett into the equation. But, for better or for worse-- for, as the agency would say "an indeterminate amount of time"-- Scarlett was going to be in my life. I was not particularly happy with my life at that moment, either.
It's not all that often that we recruit someone as young as Ian Wallace or this Scarlett, but when we do, the parents have to be dealt with. Because I'm good with people-- charismatic enough that I usually get my way-- I am frequently chosen for this particular task. I hate it. I hate dealing with the parents. I hate lying to them.
I hate lying to my parents, too. Or rather, lying to my dad, since I haven't seen my mom since I was thirteen. But it's a part of the job, and I love the job. All but that one part. Dad thinks I sell scarves internationally.
Anyway, it took me about two hours to come up with a story to tell Scarlett's folks and steal the proper documentation from headquarters so that I wouldn't get chewed out. An exciting travel-study opportunity. Her friend Ian was going, too. Yay.
I'll be honest, I do have a hard time keeping a straight face during the lying. I always have to practice beforehand on the serious-recruiter voice and the serious-recruiter face. The whole situation strikes me as funny because it's so very Men In Black, or something of the sort. If any of those parents ever saw me out of serious-recruiter mode, they probably wouldn't even recognize me. So I want to laugh, but afterwards I always feel bad.
After getting Scarlett's parents to sign on, which wasn't all that easy might I add, I had to make Mustang Sally speed to get to the play I had tickets for on time. I toyed with the idea of telling Greg I'd missed it and making him pay, anyway. Instead I decided to simply let him sit on the edge of his seat all night waiting for word on Scarlett. When I left the play there were already five messages on my cell phone. It was fun.
The last thing I did that night before going to bed was check out my list of recruits, and that was when I noticed the last-minute addition. The next evening I was still so distracted by wondering what the agency had in mind with this that I was several blocks away from home before I realized I'd forgotten to unplug my hair straightener.
Greg and I arrived at the end of Dunhill Street at the same time. At first I almost didn't recognize him. He wasn't dressed like a recruiter. He was dressed like a... guy. A normal guy. It was slightly disconcerting. I guess I must have been staring, because he looked at me like a normal guy who's just realized you're staring at him.
"Ellen."
"Greg."
Now he looked at me like a normal guy who is irritated because you're smiling in a slightly amused way and he's embarrassed.
"I've been recruited," he said in an emotionless voice. "Again."
"I saw. And I just laughed and laughed and laughed."
He was not entertained by my teasing. "Did you have anything to do with this?"
"What? Why would I want you recruited?"
"I don't know! To get even with me for the Scarlett thing. Or because you thought it'd be funny. Or something."
"No, Greg, I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I'm not that high up. I'm just as surprised as you are, believe me." I paused. "Although it is kind of funny."
We started to walk down the street to the alley.
"Hey. Aren't you leading this mission?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "First time. First mission since being recruited. And then being made a recruiter." I thought he might want to talk about our first mission, and how long ago it seemed, and how it was his second mission too, and the irony of me being promoted and him being recruited again. But he was going a different direction.
"And aren't the leaders supposed to arrive at the rendezvous early?"
"Ye-es..."
"So how come you're just getting here?"
"I was... I encountered... technical difficulties. Concerning the mission."
"And the real reason is...?"
"My bathroom was on fire."
"Again?"
"Gee, Greg, I just hope Fluffy isn't too lonely while you're gone."
He stopped and turned to me.
"How do you know about..."
"Data, Greg. We know everything," I answered in my very best recruiter voice. I could see him turning red.
It was then that we reached the alley leading to 1437 Dunhill, and stopped.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
This probably had something to do with the ninjas being unconscious on the ground.
"Oh, crap," I muttered. "Gillian's already here."