Disclaimer: I just babysat, so now I'm not dead broke, but I'm planning to blow it all at a casino, so don't sue me. Once again, this is my first movie fic, so be gentle with me.
"I have two questions for you," was the first thing that came out of Mr. Ocean's mouth at the visitors center.
"Yes?"
"First of all, what is your name?"
"Devorah. Devorah Adams. I would shake your hand but there's a sheet of glass in the way," she answered.
He rapped on it with his knuckles. "That's not glass. And my other question for you is do you usually try to pick up convicts?"
"All I know is that you're a parole violator, I hardly consider that a convict. So why are you really here?" she asked, trying to pry some information out of this mysterious character.
He laughed and leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up onto the small counter. "Well, I've been connected, but never charged, to numerous robberies over the years."
Devorah leaned forward in curiousity. "Yah, but were you really involved?"
"Let's just say I knew about them." He winked and changed the subject. "But enough about me, let's talk about you. Why are you hanging around jail?"
"I'm picking up convicts."
"Are you planning on going to college?"
"I'm thirty-two. I already went.
Mr. Ocean, since right now we're uncomfortable calling him "Danny", laughed, and when he laughed his eyes lit up. He glowed. Quite impressive for a man in jail.
She couldn't help but smile. "When do you get out?"
"Friday."
"Need a ride?"
"No, I got a friend picking me up. But how about he brings you with him?"
"Sounds good to me." She smiled, and waved for the security guard to take him away. As soon as Mr. Ocean was out of sight, Devorah shut off the tape recorder. So far, so good.
A/n: I finally got an idea for a plot. Before I was just babbling, but now there is definitely a plot! Yay! You know how it is around here, you have to review or I will feel hopeless and never write again.