I?: The Girl Who Ran: The Altruism Test- Currently Shelved

{VII: Jason} Cup Thief

As soon as he heard the door shut, Jason slid off the counter. That was stupid. Barbara hadn't told him that someone had moved here, much less a living statue. He sighed and hopped to the couch on one foot, ditching the baseball bat. He fell onto the couch and stared at the phonograph. The only guy he'd seen who uses records anymore was Alfred. He looked through the stack and saw Frank Sinatra, and old jazz players who probably weren't alive anymore.

He should probably call Alfie to come pick him up. But if Replacement or, in some nightmarish twist of fate, Damian found out, there would be no end to the abuse. He rolled over and looked at the wall above him. Besides, he wanted to find out more about the marble statue living in his safehouse. The wall was covered in pictures. The one that caught his attention was a picture of a slightly younger Tatiana, a blonde girl, a tiny Latina girl, and a dark-haired boy, all swinging on a playground. The other three were smiling at the camera, but Tatiana was not. Her eyes held a familiar, steely anger.

Another one showed a more recent Tatiana holding a baby, with the blonde girl looking at it. This picture had a silver Sharpie caption, "Little Eric Virtue June 20th".

The door opened. Tatiana walked in and asked him, with her irritatingly faint Russian accent, "Do you want a shirt? Nevermind, you need a shirt. I am going to find you a shirt. I am sure I have something that will fit you."

Jason shrugged, ignoring the sharp pains in his side, "I don't need a shirt but--."

"Yes, you do need a shirt. It would be very-- very--," she frowned and threw the newspaper on her desk, surveying his body. He crossed his arms self-conciously, irritating his stitches.

He smirked and fed her words, "Wonderful, lovely, amazing?"

Her frown deepened, "Innapropriate to have a half naked man, who I do not even know, in my apartment! Lying on my couch!"

Jason smirked, "And having a shirt on is going to change the 'inapropriatness' of me?"

She walked into a door that he assumed led into her bedroom and continued talking as if she hadn't heard him, "I do not think I have any pants that would fit you, but this should cover the hole up." She emerged and threw a deep green hoodie at him. "How long are you going to stay?"

He sat up and pulled the hoodie over his head, "That depends."

She sat in her desk chair and perused the newspaper, "On what?"

He suprised himself with his answer, "On whether or not I can keep using this apartment as a safe house."

Tatiana looked up at him over her newspaper, a thin stripe of sunlight catching a bright white streak in her curls. Her eyebrow arched, "Are you going to eat all of my food every time you come by?"

He shrugged and felt a grin tugging at his mouth, "No guarantees." Then he frowned, "Why haven't you asked me what I'm doing here?"

She was still peering at him, and he sensed that her deep brown eyes and hard, smooth features were judging him, "I assumed you were going to tell me at some point. And I respect what you all do here."

He leaned back and propped his foot up on the coffee table next to his armor. He looked at the curtains printed with lemons and Tatiana continued reading her newspaper.

She spoke, "You did not answer my question, Hood. I have to go to a interview today. How long are you going to stay?"

"Another hour, maybe. Then I'll call Al-- one of my friends to come get me." The silence stretched on until Jason asked, "What are you interviewing for?"

She looked up at him, "A job."