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[mcgill]

[The man seated uneasily in front of the camera probably looks familiar to anyone who knew or knew of Saul Goodman, ex-defense attorney and daytime TV judge extraordinaire. He has the same face, mostly, save for the abundance of hair on his head (which is sticking up just slightly, like he's been exposed to a stiff breeze or, in his case, static electricity) and fewer wrinkles around his eyes than anyone who got close enough to him might remember. And his smile, just like Saul's, is playfully crooked — though it's laced with a nervousness that doesn't really fit the image Saul projected whenever he had an audience. This man isn't as confident as his older lookalike, that much is clear, nor is he as brightly dressed. (A white dress shirt and a bland, striped tie are all that's currently visible.)

But he has that same ol' sparkle in his eye, and he straightens up a bit as soon as he's ready to speak, which is a habit anyone would recognize: that sudden shift from casual to professional Saul made any time he approached the bench or a business meeting.

And as for his voice — that's the same, too.

This is almost definitely Saul Goodman, but:]

Hiya. The name's Jimmy McGill. James, technically, but — I prefer Jimmy.

[He lifts his hands into view. Saul's trademark (fake) Rolex and gold pinky ring are missing, but that's because they're obscured by a pair of heavy-duty electrical gloves.]

I've got a little problem on my hands, pun only halfheartedly intended. [A laugh, one quick huff of air. Saul's laugh: Heh.] Seems the powers that be decided I should have the ability to manipulate power itself. Electricity, I mean. More specifically — [A brief pause, a swallow. He tries to play it off; there's no reason this word should bother him.] Electromagnetism. So, since I have no idea how to control an honest-to-God superpower because they're not really real where I come from, this is... uh, it's an issue. Anyone got any tips? Tricks? Ways to wake up, maybe?

[He smiles again, this time thin-lipped and a little desperate. It looks like he's on the verge of panic.]

Please?

Comments

[mcgill]

[That's not an answer Jimmy accepts, but the fight's gone out of him. He doesn't want to argue anymore.]

Fine.

[hostage]

"Fine" like I'll never see your ugly face again? That kind of "fine"?

[mcgill]

Are you always this much of a dick?

[hostage]

Yeah.

[mcgill]

Good to know. You wanna make sure I get outta here? Why don't you go ahead and kidnap me. Third time's the charm, right?

[hostage]

[Third time? Jesus Christ, how many times has Saul been kidnapped in his life? He isn't even Saul yet.]

Why the hell do you wanna stick around here, anyway?

[mcgill]

Because I have a job. I've been promised a steady income. I have a room that's twice as big as the shithole of an office I've been living in, which, FYI, wasn't so much an office as it was a closet with a water heater.

[He glares at Jesse, hands balling into fists. Jesse probably doesn't get it. If he can drop fifteen grand without even flinching...]

You know what I like? Stability. You know what I haven't had in my life in... hm, let's see, decades? Stability. Yeah, I'd rather be on familiar turf back home, but I'm not an idiot. I'm not passing up another opportunity just because something might happen to me.

[hostage]

[Jesse's ready to open his mouth in protest. He can get Jimmy a new house, a new job, however much money counts as "steady income".

That last thing, though? That's something Jesse can't give to anyone. He even tried it for a while, with Brock and Andrea, and how'd that turn out? He turned into a fucking lunatic, had Andrea calling the feds on him because she thought he'd poisoned her kid. All because he'd gone in talking all paranoid. Kind of like he's doing now.

What the fuck is he doing here?

Jesse turns away from Jimmy to pick up the bag and sling it over his shoulder.]

[mcgill]

Hey, hey —

[Not that Jimmy's had a change of heart, but his gut is telling him not to let Jesse go... with the money.]

Um.

[The money isn't his. And even if it is technically his, and the car, and the boat, and the gun — he doubts Saul Goodman acquired those things legitimately. But wasn't he ready to — because the path of righteousness didn't quite —

He runs a hand over his face and sighs, then gestures for Jesse to sit.]

You should stay for a little while. I'm guessing this might be the last time I see you, right? Because spending any time with me'll put us both in danger.

[hostage]

[Jesse turns a quizzical look to Jimmy. Stay for a little while? Why the hell would he do that?]

I shouldn't even be here.

[mcgill]

No, you shouldn't. But you're here anyway, so...

[He shrugs.]

I practically just got here. What are the odds that your guy is gonna know where I am and come lookin' for me that quickly? Is that really how he operates?

[hostage]

If he was paying any attention to the network, he could get here as fast as I did. That's, like, assuming he didn't follow me here in the first place.

Does that answer your question?

[mcgill]

So we've established that you're always a dick. Are you also always paranoid?

[hostage]

[Just because you're paranoid don't mean they're not after you, buddy.]

Can I go now?

[mcgill]

Sure, fine. But before you go, you might wanna consider, ah, leaving... all that. With me. In case Mr. White goes even further into the deep end someday, maybe tries to steal your shit... at least some of it'll still be safe.

[hostage]

[Oh. It's like that.]

You dipshit. You think I'm letting you sit on a bag full of evidence while you're living in superhero housing? What do I look like? An amateur?

He's not coming for my money. He's coming for your head. Don't say I didn't warn you.

[Jesse grabs the keys to the yacht and tosses them in Jimmy's direction - but missing intentionally, so he'll have to pick them up off the floor while Jesse makes his way to the exit.]

[mcgill]

No, he's coming for Saul Goodman's head.

[Jimmy watches the keys sail past him and clatter to the floor.]

Worry about your own damn head, Pinkman. It sounds like this guy's more of a problem for you than he ever was for me.

[hostage]

Like you give a shit.

[He's out the door.]