Chapter Text
Julia’s ankles were cold, but she guessed that was the price that one had to pay when they wanted to pair their new blue blazer with fashionably cuffed jeans. Technically, she was deviating from her usual uniform, just a little bit, but if her fool of a partner got to run around in his skinny, striped ties that matched his socks (only his socks, not any other part of the outfit), then she could get away with jeans, just for one night. Besides, there were no galas to blend in with, no need to comply with the fashion sensibilities of an unreasonably wealthy group of people, only a local art museum in New Mexico to inspect and enjoy. They would receive a new collection of carvings from an establishment a little farther north, and display a select number of works from Georgia O’Keeffe. She and Devineaux were merely checking in, making sure that the place seemed prepared enough to show such works. At any rate, it was rather doubtful that VILE would send anyone for something this small and this local. Still, it never hurt to be excessively thorough.
For now, Julia was leaning against a rail out by the front of the museum, gazing just to the left of the cluster of parked cars at the jagged mountains that had begun to swallow the sun. The museum would close within the next few minutes, but of course, Devineaux had dashed back in, keen to ask about convenient restaurants, even after Julia had assured him that it was a rather fruitless effort: they were museum staff, not particularly knowledgeable on the best Turkish restaurants within five blocks of a hotel they’d probably never heard of. If she’d learned anything in her time as his professional partner, though, he wouldn’t be about to give up on his newly determined task. She’d set a mental timer for herself, and decided that a good twenty minutes would be enough time for Devineaux to indulge his habits, before she inevitably googled it for the sake of simplicity.
Julia felt herself start to wilt, her weight causing the brittle wood she leaned against to groan, a sign of its age. There, bathed in waning sunlight, stained in honied tones, Julia allowed herself to be exposed to reality. Late last night, when she and Devineaux had rolled into Albuquerque on rattling wings, hollow with jetlag left over from their last four flights, she really hadn’t let herself understand how drained she had become. As the past day, past few weeks, really sank into her aching head, Julia really understood how exhausted she was. Time grew irrelevant, and passed only in increments of assignments she was sent on. Different cities, the ones she’d passed through briefly, stood out as clear names in her head, but the images of them, what she had experienced there, stewed as some sort of muddied, distant slideshow. For the first time in just over a month, Julia wasn’t being rushed to catch a “criminal”, or inspect evidence, or feed into Devineaux’s conspiracies. Tonight, Julia melted back into the arid climate of the windswept desert, coming to terms with her few moments of silence.
And how brief those moments were-- as Julia had finally settled into a more relaxed stance, the doors behind her had burst open, and Agent Devineaux rushed out, frantically waving a piece of paper.
“Ms.Argent! The person at the desk didn’t know too much about any Turkish restaurants, but there’s a French place down by the square that they said was pretty authentic! It’s… also a bead shop? It should be interesting if we can make it in time to ask for a reservation. We should probably get-” her fellow agent paused, tilting his head as he took in Julia’s exasperated expression.
“Sorry, I mean… umm. Were you busy.”
“Yes, Devineaux. I’m quite invested in staring at the sun.” She quirked an eyebrow, trying to be patient as her partner took a moment to catch up with the joke.
“Oh.” He shoved the paper at her. “This is a map of the square, and they circled the building. I could drive the car back to the lot, because it's basically halfway between here and our hotel. You could walk and maybe we could meet there? I hate to interrupt your… obligations.” Julia shook her head, before tilting it affectionately: Chase was becoming more empathetic, but remained typically dull.
“Thanks, I think that could work.”
“Spectacular! I shall see you there soon!”
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Devineaux may have darted off to their sleek, if not a little dusty, car as soon as they settled this proposition, but Julia let herself linger for a few more moments. It was nice, her only obligation being a comfortable dinner with a colleague and a divine opportunity to spill a little extra company money. When she’d finally gathered the motivation, Julia dragged her feet, trailing the outside of the parking lot, fixated on the impressive skyline. Poitiers may have become home, but nothing compared to the rugged beauty of the purplish Rocky Mountains that stretched out before her. And, for once in her life, she had the opportunity to really take in their majesty. Her vague and rather distant wanderings along the outlined paths on the tourist map Devineaux had shoved into her hands was pleasant, and for this one night, Julia was allowed to forget her obligations as an ACME agent.
As the square came into view when Julia turned a corner, the street lamps glowing softly under a navy sky, she shocked herself with a lack of surprise when she spotted a familiar red-clad figure faintly illuminated beneath the shades of dusk. She hesitated in the mouth of the quiet streets, with the only movement that really caught her eye were the occasional passerby filtering out of the park. She may have been in civilian wear, with a red-and-white t-shirt and high-waisted shorts, but after everything she’d been through, Julia would have recognized Carmen Sandiego anywhere. Even her red hood, tugged over her messy bun and shadowing her face, did little to dissuade Julia that this was the super-thief she had spent much of her profession hunting down. She felt no urge to capture her, or worse, contact her fellow agent.
Instead, Julia only shocked herself further when she locked her gaze with the other woman’s. She hated to admit it, but she could feel her face flush. She hoped the poor lighting did enough to hide this from her acquaintance. It wasn’t often that she was presented with the opportunity to sit down with this crimson shadow, and she really hadn’t had the chance to see her after the train ride so many months ago. Julia let her mind linger on that occasion, debating what course of action to take; all the while, Carmen remained watchful. When they’d spoken last, Carmen had been kind, a little presumptuous, and not in the slightest bit the deceptive, deceitful criminal that Chase believed her to be. Should she go up to Carmen? Julia wasn’t sure why they’d spoken on the train, and if the thief wanted anything to do with her. Logically, it might be worse if Julia made any effort towards interacting with her publicly. Perhaps, she should have left it alone.
Of course, that wasn’t really what happened, because Carmen was perceptive-- she caught on to Julia’s hesitation quite quickly, rising from the bench and strolling towards her. Julia stood, wide eyed, as Carmen maintained her casual stance, sucking in a breath when the other came to stand beside her. Julia stood there, in her flat shoes, Carmen in her red converse, and it took her a moment to let their height difference sink in. Letting out a shuddering exhale, Julia turned her gaze upwards.
“Hey, Jules.”
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Julia must have been blushing down to her neck at the mere greeting, and was in that moment, endlessly grateful for the high collar of her blazer that concealed this reaction. Carefully, she steeled her expression, and breathed out an even,
“Good evening, Ms.Sandiego.” The agent certainly wasn’t expecting a chuckle as a response, and tried to keep her composure.
“You don’t look like you’re on a job, we can lose the formalities. Though, I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you this early.”
“Expecting me?” Julia believed that the surprise in her voice was warranted.
“Sure. I wouldn’t be taking the time to pass through Santa Fe just for the pigeons, would I?” Julia shrugged at that. Still, she found it odd that her adversary in the workplace would know how to find her here.
“Are there perhaps some other thieves that need to be caught tonight?” Carmen shook her head, a few more strands falling out of her poorly secured hair tie. Her hood shifted back a bit, revealing dark circles looming beneath her tattered lash line.
“Everyone’s gotta take a break at some point, don’t they, Jules?” Before the agent could offer her reply, she heard a quiet sputtering, before Carmen reached to pluck one of her stud earrings from her lobe. She shoved it in her pocket, before reaching out to tug on the cuffs of Julia’s sleeve, setting them in a slow stroll.
“You don’t look very relaxed for someone who’s on a vacation, Ms.Sandiego.” This offered the woman in red some pause, and she hesitated.
“No,” she settled on. “I guess not.” It may have been in the way that her shoulders drooped, or the way the corners of her eyes were tugged every-so-slightly downwards by fatigue, but Carmen seemed so much younger. Julia had really only ever known her as a phantom, the indestructible figure she would spend hours toiling over the best way to get her into ACME’s custody. Now, though, she looked like any number of people wandering down the streets at dusk, if not a bit more weathered. She still had yet to drop the edges of Julia’s cuff, a slender thumb and index finger wound into the cotton (Julia made no move to pull away).
The two wandered about rather aimlessly, until Julia made towards one of many benches cast in the golden smoldering of another street lamp. She sat down first, waiting for Carmen, who eventually followed suit.
“Why did you wait for me, Ms.Sandiego?”
“Carmen will do fine.”
“Alright then, Carmen, why were you waiting here?” The younger of the two hesitated again, her brow creased. (Regretfully) Carmen dropped Julia’s sleeve.
“You,” she said the word with conviction. “Jules, you know what’s going on, don’t you? VILE must think me to be in association with ACME, and ACME believes I’m working for VILE, but you know something more, don’t you?” Julia shrugged.
“It’s always odd how the things you ‘steal’ find their way to exactly the place they need to be.” If Julia looked hard enough, she could catch the slow pinching at the corner of Carmen’s lips: a smile.
“Yeah, really odd.” Julia let her fingers twine into a fist, before cautiously letting one hand rest on the seam of Carmen’s hood. She made no move to pull it off; her gesture was phrased merely as a question. When the thief let her own hands come up, one brushing tentatively against Julia’s own, she pulled the hood down. Julia let her hand drop slowly, and took in her eidolon. Up close, Carmen’s dark skin held the warm light like amber, but her typically silver eyes looked more stony tonight. Her lips, painted crimson, held a small smile, but what she showed was honest. One hand went to fish about in her jacket, and replaced the stud in her ear. The sigh she breathed was uncharacteristically wistful.
“Jules, I think I should get going.” Carmen’s eyes darted downward reflexively, before scanning the walkways surrounding them. “And I think you have somewhere to be, too.” The thief didn’t wait for a response, really, she didn’t have to. Carmen Sandiego walked away, still withered if not a little brighter, and Julia offered a declaration:
“I’ll see you later, Carmen.”