<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Jarvis Driscoll - Dorian's Studio with Courtney.</strong></span></div><br/><em> "Apparently there was a typo on my resume.  It's a statement about how I live my life...'because I can' do anything.  I stopped living based on societies rules and started living based on mine.  It was very liberating."</em><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Jarvis smiled as he watched Courtney bring the California Roll to her lips.  "I did wonder... and it does sound a whole lot better than <em>quia possum</em>."  He said casually.  "Not that I have anything against homosexual marsupials."  He chuckled a little.  "Well, society does like one to conform, and will go to great lengths to beat you into shape."  He placed his champagne flute on the Dorian's desk and stood up.  "You, however, look like you'd be able to handle yourself."  He looked around, curious to find out what Dorian was doing, but he wasn't within view.  "Where's the artist, I wonder?" He murmured to no one in particular.<br/>He closed the small leather case and fastened the clips.  <br/>"Would you excuse me Courtney, I'm going to find Dorian and tell him your <em>fabulous</em> idea about the stimulator."  He looked down at Courtney's dark red lips.  "Or would you like to come too?" <br/>As he was  turning toward the shooting range, Jarvis paused and started to fish in his pockets for his Blackberry.  As it buzzed in his hand, he looked at the screen and his face changed from one of excitement to annoyance.<br/>"Can't they survive for even half a day?" He muttered.  He turned to Courtney.  "I'm so sorry."  His irritation was obvious.  "But they are under strict instructions <em>not</em> to call me <em>unless</em> it is an <em>absolute</em> emergency...so...I have to assume that this is just that."  The phone was at his ear.  <br/>"Jarvis Driscoll.  Mmmhmm.  Right.    Is she.    So why can't Philip deal with that?     Oh, really.  Is that so?    Well, you can call her back and explain to her that this is <em>most</em> inconvenient.    Let her sweat for a half hour.   I should be there by then to sort the mess out for you."  He was spitting vitriol.<br/>"My dear, I am dreadfully sorry.  I must go and hand-hold my <em>retarded</em> work colleagues through what they deem to be a crisis."  His expression had turned frosty.  "Please explain to Dorian that I have been called away.  I fear we will have to reschedule all this."<br/>He had reached the door of Dorian's studio, and called back over his shoulder:<br/>"And don't worry, you'll be paid for your time today!  Tell Dorian I'll call him."</span>