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Who: Fauxlivia Dunham and ~~the Goddamned Batman~~ Bruce or Tom or whatever.
What: Firsthand proof that the militia can be assholes.
Where: Bonetown near Mogg Hill.
When: Backdated to last week-ish. /vaguehands
Warnings: None as of yet.

Word of mouth has alerted Olivia to the fact that a bakery just outside Mogg Hill makes a lemon loaf that is supposedly just like Starbucks. Over There, she'd enjoyed breakfast pastries and coffee from the chain, so this tip seems worth following up for a little taste of something like home.

Stepping inside out of the chill, 'Liv takes her hands out of her jacket pockets and rubs them together to bring feeling back into her fingers, eyeing the offerings on display in their glass cases in the front of the store.

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Getting busted is definitely not on Olivia's agenda for today. She doesn't utter any apologies as she darts through the print shop, nearly knocking over an employee who moved to stare after Bruce at one point, but she doesn't miss a beat. Emerging through the front of the shop behind the man, she pushes at the door in an effort to shut it behind them and impede any pursuit - be it from militia or angry manager.

As they make their way down the street, decidedly more sedate than moments ago, the auburn-headed woman takes a moment to catch her breath before turning to look at Bruce. "So. You make a habit of this sort of activity, then? S'a good work-out."

Bruce falls in step beside her easily, and for all the world looks like he's always been walking calmly along this road. No one around them seems to notice them being out of place.

He glances over at her, and there's a glimmer of something like wry amusement in his expression before he looks past her, ever-watchful even in repose. "I try not to. But it's healthier than having conversations with the Militia."

'Conversations', sure.

Fingers rake through her hair in an effort to tame it down - if it even needs it. Though Olivia glances in a shop window as they walk past it, it isn't to examine her own image, but rather to try and spot anyone taking an interest in the pair of them through that reflection.

"If that's what happens for a little misfiling, I'd hate to see what happens when the Militia actually wants to talk." She can imagine it ends in busted noses and broken teeth. "Do I get to know your name?"

"Do you want it?"

It's only slightly a teasing question. Some people wouldn't; some people would prefer to remain as detached as possible, after something like that. Bruce doesn't really care, because he's not going to give her his real name anyway, and Tom can afford some eccentricities. She is interesting, though, throwing herself right along with whatever the hell he's doing.

"I don't ask questions I don't want answers to. Olivia Dunham." See? She even took the first leap. And it's her real name. Possibly a combination of stupid, trusting, or brazen, but she seems to be aware of that if the way she smirks and shrugs is any indication.

"Your turn."

"Tom."

And that's all she's getting - not that he's shunning her his made-up last name, even on his Baedal tax forms it really is just Tom. There are so many cultures here, no one's ever asked him if it's more than that, so he's never supplied anything more.

"You seem bored."

"Do I? Not bored so much as... unsurprised." Olivia casually glances over her shoulder, before turning back to ask, "Is that sad? Sure, I didn't wake up this morning expecting a chase," or to be chased, as the case may be, "but I never discount it as a possibility."

She doesn't begrudge him the truncated name, whether any of it is withheld or made up. "So, Tom... What were you hoping to do back there? Besides observe everything that's wrong with police states."

Bruce shoots her a look, not glancing fully, just enough to carry the glimmer of his amusement - he didn't mean just now, Olivia, he means in general. How antsy do you have to be to end up leaping over a wall with a stranger?

"Just watching."

And believe it or not, that isn't an obfuscated lie.

Maybe she'd rather not tempt fate by suggesting she's bored in general. That tends to be the time where things get decidedly not boring.

Oh, like this day is turning out. ...Maybe it's a little too late for not tempting fate.

"You don't strike my as someone who sticks to the sidelines in observation," Olivia comments with a raised brow. "Maybe that's why I'm bored." All observation and no action makes Agent Dunham a dull girl.

"How do I strike you?"

He's very adept at getting away, Olivia, maybe that's his specialty; observation and reconnaissance without getting caught. He could be a spy. He could be a journalist. He could be a weirdo who's graduated from staring out his apartment window. The possibilities are truly endless.

"Like someone who prefers action to inaction." She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but watching stuff like that unfold all the time, on purpose? It gets depressing fast. Anyone who truly cares about monitoring and documenting that sort of injustice either walks away because they care too much, or they find a way to do something about it."

"Even if that means enlisting others." She's so casual about it, it's almost as if any implication was unintentional. Almost. If he's just into recon, Olivia certainly doesn't think he's on his own.

"You are bored."

Neither confirmation nor denial, but Olivia is being a little pushy - on the one hand, Bruce doesn't blame her, but on the other, he's not going to reward somebody prying at him with anything besides letting it deflect off.

"I think your projecting a little, too. What were you at home? Fed?"

"Guilty as charged." Flippant. She means about being bored. But probably a little bit about the projecting, and definitely about being a fed. Sort of. "Department of Defense. The FBI was done away with before my time."

Not that she hasn't worked that job, too. The miracles of parallel universes and selves. She doesn't bother to ask what he used to do back home. Judging from his responses so far, she doesn't think she'd get an answer.

"Do you think we've lost 'em?" While she thinks it sure seems that way, she has no experience with how dogged the militia here can be.

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