Who Am I

Plans

She blinked, a startled expression crossing her face. Jason gripped his seat.

The picture of innocence, he thought wryly.

She threw her head back and gave a long laugh. The moonlight bounced off her hair.

"Goodness Jason." She moved away, resuming her seat. She rested her heart shaped face on her chin, a faint smile curling her lip. "Did you really forget me?"

"No. You just seemed to be in a bad mood."

"I was."

Jason leaned back, forcing a casual pose. His blood pounded in his ears.

She's here. The f****** b**** is here.

She studied his posture for a brief moment before meeting his eyes.

"Are you surprised?" She asked.

"Well, I thought prison would keep you out," he said.

"I wanted to check up on you." She stood, walking to the end of the cafeteria. "Coffee?"

"I'll pass."

"Your loss." They waited in silence as the plastic cup slowly filled to the brim with scalding coffee. She casually took it, draining it like a dehydrated athlete having water.

"You really like your coffee," he noted.

"Just as you do," she shot back before raising it once again. Jason blinked for a moment.

This is surreal. She's here. In a f****** prison cafeteria.

Man, she must really hate me.

"Did you disable the cameras?" She refilled her coffee.

"I put it on a loop. The guards outside have suddenly found themselves rather...tired."

"Unconscious or drugged?" She made a disgusted sound.

"Drugged. Knocking them out leaves too much evidence." Jason relaxed. She watched him for a moment.

"Can I say your name now?"

"It's not like you can't," she pointed out.

"I beg to differ."

"Beg? Now I have never seen you do that." Jason stopped himself from gulping.

"Can I?" She looked around the empty room, eyes narrowed.

"Yes."

"Alright. Good." Jason opened his mouth, ready to say it. He stopped. She threw the empty cup into a trashcan.

"You're not going to say it? How shocking."

"I would rather not cause harm," he replied dryly. "The human population must never know your name, right?"

"It seems it's quite well known either way."

"Well, it's associated with the deceased."

"And I do love to keep it that way," she said. She smiled. "Being dead is so much easier. Did you know how easy it is to make a living when your enemies can't track you? It's almost hilarious how they trip over themselves, desperate to find me." She sighed. "Too bad I've put it on hold all these months."

"Why does the name matter, anyways? It's just a first name." She gave him a look.

"First names are very powerful. The odds of them finding you are so much higher."

"But you have enough protection."

"Maybe to you."

"Then you're paranoid."