#de-educated sergio

"Are you holding up alright? I know this is something of a change from your initial arrangement."

Jake had been brought to a private room where he was seated before Sergio Vega, the re-educator giving him an earnest and apologetic look.  Where Jake had been previously situated in a sumptuous, veritable gilded cage, the move to the general holding cell area was far removed from luxury.  The PA was dressed in a jumpsuit such a vibrant yellow you could practically hear it from across a room.  His holding cell was a solitary affair with a toilet and sink, a bed with a flat, foam mattress and pillow with a covering that might generously be called a blanket but had all the substance and weight of a coffee filter.  There was, however, as Sergio had told him, an entertainment unit set into the wall.  

Ordinarily Jake had access to a limited number of videos whose subjects generally centered around how he could improve his productivity and efficiency while working for Strex as well as helpful hints on how to make the best of his Re-education.  With some of the access codes given to him by Sergio, however, the PA could create an administrative account which he could grant super-user access and scoot about most of the company intranet at will.  There were, Jake found, still areas he could not access, but they were very few and far between.  While this sort of tampering ordinarily would have been picked up by the security camera in the cell, every night at nine o'clock precisely, looping footage would come online and anyone looking at it would find Jake sleeping innocently on his comfortless bed until six o'clock the next morning when the prisoners were woken for the day.  Among the things Jake had access to were files concerning every prisoner who shared the holding cell area with him.

People who, if everything went according to plan, he would be breaking out very soon.

"How are you feeling?"

For Marcus, the discussion took place on the roof.  Sergio had figured that it would be a welcome respite from his cramped, captive quarters.  The Disciples' technology, in addition to the small space, added up to a constant discomfort, no matter what amenities he might have been otherwise granted.  The roof had seemed the best place - there was fresh air, wide, opened space, a star-soaked sky, and a complete absence of the nullifying field generated to make Marcus himself a smaller, more manageable being.  Similarly, Sergio wished to give Luc a comfortable space in which to talk, and so he had chosen the sunroom.  Oolong tea and flakey, buttery almond cookies were laid out on the set table, a crystal bowl resting beside the baked goods and tea held glistening white lychee fruit chilling over ice.  Standing beside the spread, Sergio extended a hand to Luciano, gesturing to the chair beside his own.

((Keep in mind de-educated Sergio happens pre-Old Oak Doors!))

There are many things and people for which I must be held accountable.  Kevin's de-education will be something I'll have to see to.

Stella was making trout almondine that night; Sergio smelling the fragrance before even stepping through the front door. The air was redolent with the smells of fish frying, butter, garlic and lemon. His hand closed around the door knob drawing in a tremulous breath before stepping in; a winning smile worthy of a 1950's sitcom husband.

"Honey, I'm home!" he sang out, slipping his jacket from his shoulders to hang off the back of his arm chair.

Isis wound around the re-educator's ankles, purring and arching her back, vivid, lime colored eyes speaking of spending a long suffering day of putting up with the fluffy, cotton puff of a dog that shortly thereafter came barreling down the staircase with the speed and determination of a Howitzer shell. Smile broadening, Sergio knelt to cuddle each before rising to stride toward the kitchen.