The tinney voice interrupting her from the concealed camera and speaker made Ava grit her teeth. How on earth could she be expected to do her job when they kept butting in so unceromoniously?  Heaving a small sigh of frustration, Ava gave a sideways glance at the corner from which the voice came. The situation went from mildly irritating to alarming, however, when 36's finger pointed squarely at her through the bars, and the threat of explosion left his lips.<br/><br/>Ava inhaled, feeling the sincerity of his words, and locked eyes on her assailant.<br/><br/>The countdown began, and time seemed to stand still. This was it. She could feel it. There were other "intellectuals" who could do her job- plenty of other lackeys who could measure out numbers and drone on in their roles to the standards of their superiors. What value was Dr. Teagan anyway? Others could replace her. She was expendable. Then the unexpected happened and the phantom tinney voice agreed to the demands.<br/><br/>The door behind her opened and hands took hold of her arms to guide her backwards out of the cell block. The last thing Ava saw was the satisfied grinning face of patient 36, promising to see her in a week.<br/><br/><br/>---<br/><br/><br/>In the seven days since she saw him last, Ava had burried herself in her work. Anything to distract from the unspoken danger she would need to face for an undetermined amount of time. Patient 36 was a wild card. A loose cannon. A gamble. Ava was not used to handling the unpredictable. She liked all aspects of her life to be measured out with careful control. She liked to know what to expect. She liked being the one holding the reins. There would be no chance of that with 36. He certainly had all the power.<br/><br/>She was sitting in a white metal chair, behind a white table, in a room painted ceiling to floor in a ghastly "eggshell" color. Beneath her white lab coat (that she'd hoped would help her blend into her surroundings), she had foolishly chosen an emerald green dress, and seemed to glow amid the whitewash around her.<br/><br/>The pen in her hand tapped out her nerves on the table before her as she waited for her "client". As though any of this was voluentairy. Ava wondered what fresh new hell this week would bring.<br/><br/>Enter 36.<br/>Calm, cool, and collected. If she hadn't had previous encounters, she would find nothing unusual about him at first glance, except for an unusually high arrogance. Which she would never admit she found intriguing. He sat down, and delivered his analysis. Ava drew in a breath to steady herself- trying to appear calm, cool, and collected, herself.<br/><br/>"You realize that whatever grand master plans you<span style="font-style: italic">think</span>my employer has carefully laid out, I would not be among the privilaged few to be privy to that intel?" Ava laced her hands together to keep herself from fidgeting, unsure of what 36 would do on a whim. "I'm pawn," she admitted freely, confident that they were not under surveillance, and therefore free to express her usually carefully guarded opinions. "I'm talented in my field, but I, unlike you, am unremarkable in any other way. Fragile, and expendable. The only reason I'm here is because I'm their best shot at getting anything of value from you." Saying the words outloud suddenly made her care a lot less about whatever agenda anyone had for her, and Ava rolled her eyes, "so what on earth makes you think that I can provide you with any answers outside of what procedures I was planning on trying out to find out<span style="font-style: italic">what</span>you are?"