Chapter Text
From: [email protected]
Subject: Intelligence brief tomorrow – War Room 0930
On your best behavior. Klein’s replacement is fresh out of DC – no feuds with the new liaison until she’s done unpacking.
They had a running bet. Carter put $30 on an Ivy League legacy admit and Lucy was in for $50 on a pencil skirt and pearls. Jesse offered $100 in perpetuity to anyone who could convince her to pau hana with the team, two round minimum.
Ding.
“Go time.” Jesse’s grin was audible.
An unmistakable premonition of heels on hardwood cut through the lazy morning chatter as Lucy glanced up from her case file. This woman was all legs and Louboutins. Dark grey tweed skirt with a fitted white blouse and matching blazer, glimpses of a gold watch, gold ring, a pearl solitaire necklace and –
Their eyes locked for the space of half a heartbeat.
Kate masked the shock with a mastery born from decades of experience. A furrowed brow passed for quiet determination, the involuntary head tilt morphing seamlessly into a gentle hair toss that obscured her line of sight just long enough to regain some semblance of composure. She strode purposefully up to the War Room without so much as a backward glance, pausing only to shake Tennant’s hand at the top of stairs.
“You good, Luce?”
Lucy started, wide eyes still glued to the spot where she vanished beyond the balcony railing, mouth slightly open. “Yeah…I…” She blinked hard, shook her head slightly. “I just wasn’t expecting her to be…”
Here.
“…hot.”
Carter snorted and dropped a fifty on her desk. “Fix your face before you head upstairs.”
Jesse smirked, rifling for his wallet. “And maybe wait a beat before you start putting the moves on her. Best behavior, remember?”
“This is DIA Officer Kate Whistler. She’ll be our primary point of contact for operational intelligence going forward. Whistler, this is my team: Special Agents Jim Carter, Lucy Tara, and Jesse Boone.”
As Tennant indicated each of them in turn, she lingered just long enough to meet professional mores with a cursory nod. From somewhere behind Lucy’s neutral façade, she could have sworn she watched her jaw clench as Whistler’s eyes skated by, studiously avoiding her own. But it could have been nothing, a trick of the light.
“Pleasure to meet you, Whistler.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Special Agent Boone.” Though polite, her words were steely and dispassionate, devoid of anything that could be mistaken for pleasure.
“Please, call me Jesse.”
“Of course. Jesse.” She inclined her head again in his direction then, pivoting toward the front of the room with militant precision, shot Tennant a sideways glance. “Shall we?”
“Carter, get the windows please.”
In the rhythmic thrum of anticipation and shuffling papers, Jesse caught Lucy’s eye and looked pointedly down at her phone.
Jesse Boone & Jim Carter 2m ago
Double or nothing. First person to make Elsa laugh.
Lucy had never been so engaged in a proceeding yet so completely detached from its implications. She absorbed every fact, finding connections before they were outlined and peppering Whistler with a litany of insightful and increasingly convoluted questions, all without a thought to what it meant beyond the confines of this room. It was a game of sorts, trying to catch her eye, to elicit any reaction at all.
Whistler fielded each question deftly, offering a series of detailed and thoughtful explanations. Though her eyes never once left the screen, Lucy flushed with a quiet thrill of victory each time the muscles in her jaw twitched in response to a particularly clever observation.
After a few playful quips at her expense the moment Whistler was out of earshot, the rest of the day vanished in a blur of forms and phone calls. Time warped and bent, stretching like the endless miles of a deserted highway until suddenly there she was, keys in hand, meandering across the heat-soaked concrete without any real recollection of how she got there. The parking lot sprawled in rows of glinting windshields, and there was something in the way they refracted those last pink rays of setting sun. It almost looked –
But it couldn’t be.
A mirage, all legs and Louboutins, leaned up against Lucy’s passenger door with her head down, face obscured and typing furiously. Lucy blinked hard.
“Whistler. How did you...?” She looked up, a soft smile breaking slowly then all at once. It took something from her, something Lucy hadn’t realized she was giving away.
“Lucky guess. Not a lot of folks around here have Texas plates.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve been meaning to take care of that. Got busy, I guess.”
“Suppose I should thank Tennant then.” She tucked the phone into a pocket of her bag and brought herself to full height. “I figured we should probably talk about,” she gestured vaguely, “all this at some point. I just – ”
Kate stiffened, seemingly in spite of herself, as a cluster of suits passed in her periphery, chattering and loosening their ties. An engine roared to life somewhere in the distance, drifting on the warm evening wind.
“Actually, do you mind if we take this conversation somewhere a little…quieter?”
Lucy shrugged, fighting to maintain a neutral expression. “Probably a good idea. I don’t have time for the paperwork if one of us gets hit by a car.”
“Alright then, give me a minute. I’ll text you the details.”
She basked a moment in Lucy’s pleasant, flustered surprise. “You – do you still…?”
Holding her purse with both hands, Kate took a step backward, a smile playing the corners of her mouth like an invitation to a joke only they were in on. “Tennant was kind enough to provide me with contact information for your whole team, for the sake of efficiency.”
“Of course.” Pieces of today’s blur came into grainy focus. “And we all have yours, in case something comes up.”
“Excellent. Well, in that case…have a good night, Special Agent Tara.”
There was something in the way she savored her name. It hung in the air as she vanished with the sun on the horizon, dipping beyond the outline of a nondescript black sedan without a backward glance. Lucy exhaled, maybe for the first time all day, and climbed into her car.
The wait was excruciating. Five minutes perhaps, or maybe three hours, and she was just starting to entertain the possibility that she’d misunderstood the situation when –
Ding.
Bygones (Lucy. Stop it.) now
2452 Kalakaua Ave. #1204
Sorry that took so long. Had to take a call.
Ding.
Bygones (Lucy. Stop it.) now
I should probably change your name in my phone at some point.
Not sure if you remember, but you saved your number as the
Honolulu Tourism Authority.
The lights flickered on with an exhale of loose heels on hardwood.
“You want something to drink?”
“Sure, whatcha got?”
“Not much, to be honest.” Kate abandoned her purse by the door and padded across the kitchen. “Looks like a 2019 Marlborough Pinot Gris…a little bit of Santa Margherita…and…tonic water.”
“On an empty stomach, impressive.” Her laughter echoed in the blinding expanse beyond the empty refrigerator door. “The Santa Margherita sounds great, thanks.”
Lucy surveyed the room, propped up against the counter as Kate plucked one glass from the drying rack and another, still wrapped in thin layers of packing paper, from a box labeled Kitchen (1 of 2). Moving blankets draped a portion of the dining room table, its legs still swathed in bubble wrap, and a series of cardboard towers arranged by size and carefully printed room designation peeked out between haphazardly arranged furniture in various stages of undress.
“I’m obsessed with that coffee table. Where’d you get it?”
Kate glanced toward the corner she indicated, where a coaster and a day-old paper lay forgotten on a large plastic tote labeled Miscellaneous (delicate). Confusion pooled in the small furrow between her brows. “You mean – ? Home Depot, but it’s really not – ” She stopped abruptly, caught by the poorly disguised amusement on Lucy’s face, and rounded the counter sheepishly, proffering a glass. “Sorry about the mess. Movers didn’t get here ‘til Sunday and work has been…intense.” She surveyed Lucy intently for a moment. “This morning, for instance, I thought I was walking into an intelligence brief. Turns out it was an interrogation.”
Lucy smirked, raising her glass in silent gratitude. “Gotta watch out for those feds, they’re relentless…. Bosses threw you in the deep end, huh?”
Something in her countenance changed as Kate mirrored her in grim acknowledgement. “Pretty sure a few of them are hoping I’ll drown.”
“No wonder Klein had such a stick up his ass.”
“Eh, could be genetic.” Warmth stole through her as Lucy flushed with delight.
“Careful, or someone might get the impression our stoic new DIA liaison has a sense of humor.”
“Now what would give you that idea?” Eyes still dancing, she leaned against the counter. “So, NCIS, huh? I always imagined you were…I don’t know, a pediatrician or something.”
“Ugh, no, no way. That’s like my worst nightmare.” Lucy shot a long, discerning look. “You tried to guess what I did for a living?”
“You didn’t?” Kate cocked her head slightly, taunting.
“Of course not. Unlike some people, I respect unspoken agreements. No questions, no expectations, just Lucy and Kate.” There was something in her eyes. Disappointment, or perhaps a trick of the light. “Now is that ‘cuz I’ve pissed off enough Georgetown professors to last a lifetime and I really wanted this one to like me?” Lucy shrugged, wry smile refracting through the rim of her glass. “Potentially.”
Some piece of her floated away, lost in the ebbing tides of Kate’s laughter.
“There’s a story there.”
“There is. But I’ll need two more glasses of wine and a dispensation from Congressman Veasey before you hear it.”
“I can only help with the wine right now, but I’ll talk to my friend at the Capitol in the morning and see what he can do.” Kate took a sip, trying to drown a low, sourceless humming completely unrelated to the joy that pooled in tiny creases around Lucy’s eyes when she smiled. “A professor though, really?”
“Yep, tenure track. School of Public Policy,” Lucy made a show of her lingering appraisal, “or maybe International Affairs.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”
“What do you think?” She held Lucy’s gaze long enough to find the answer in her eyes. “I mean, I wasn’t really that far off either. You do spend all day collecting information so you can walk into any room and drop some serious knowledge.”
“That’s certainly one way to look at it.”
She lost Kate for the space of a heartbeat, adrift somewhere beyond the confines of the apartment. “So, you said you wanted to talk about…this?” She gestured between them, pulling her back to the moment.
“Oh. Yeah…about that…” Kate took a steadying breath, still trying to quiet that humming contentment, but Lucy stepped in before she could remember exactly where she’d left her nerve. By the door perhaps, next to her purse in a pile of Louboutins.
“Look, Kate, this doesn’t have to be – we don’t have to make this a…a thing. No pressure. We can just let this be…whatever it is.” Lucy took a sip, trying to collect her scattered pieces. “To be honest, I don’t know if I can handle anything serious right now anyway.”
“You sure?” Surprise mingled in the silence with shades of relief.
“Yeah. It’s been a couple months now, but the whole work thing is still a little…much. I mean, Carter has finally acknowledged my given name isn’t Probie, but Tennant is still keeping a very close eye on me. Supposedly for my own good. She seems to think I leap before I look. And my schedule…” she exhaled dramatically for effect, “absolute nightmare. Got the Newbie Special – nights and weekends ‘til hell freezes over and thaws back out.”
“That sounds…fun.”
“6pm to 6am, every Friday and Saturday. It’s quite the party.”
The corners of Kate’s mouth twitched slightly. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Okay, it’s a pity party, but still. There’s cake.” She surrendered for a moment, melting into Lucy’s crooked smile as the tension in her shoulders dissipated.
“I get that. Pretty much everything is a little much right now.” She tugged absentmindedly at hem of her blouse. “I got a condescending and vaguely sexist ‘check your feelings at the door’ lecture by way of welcome the other day. You know how it goes – you are the easiest weakness to exploit, you can’t manage intel unless you can manage yourself, that sort of thing. As if I’ve never done this before.”
“You might be having more fun than I am.”
“Everything is very…mission first, people maybe, if time permits.” She was concentrating intently now on the cuff of her left sleeve. “It’s also a much smaller office here, so I’m never not working, and it kind of feels like everyone is just…waiting on me to make a mistake.”
“That’s awful, I’m sorry.”
“That’s the job.”
Her resignation hung there for a moment as the weight of it all settled into the silence.
“The job where you’ll be handling intel for us…and we’ll be working together…”
“Occasionally, yeah.” Her jaw clenched. “It just makes everything else, all of this, feel so…”
“…complicated.”
Kate weighed her next words carefully, as if deciding how much of herself to give away.
“It’s not that I’m not interested. I mean, Lucy, you’re…amazing.” She meant it, but she hadn’t meant to say it quite like that. “And this feels like…I just…I don’t know. Maybe if the situation were different.”
“Yeah.”
Their eyes met in earnest.
“Like I said, I’m not really looking for anything serious right now. Especially not if it’s gonna make things harder on you. We can just be…I don’t know…friends, or whatever. Just Lucy and Kate.”
“I don’t want to be your friend, Lucy.” Her voice was softer now, defeated, but there was something in the way she savored her name. Like it was precious, maybe. The most precious thing in the world. “And I don’t know if I can be – I mean…I think it’s probably just better for both of us if we keep things professional for now.”
“Oh…yeah…okay…for sure.” Lucy shook her head slightly and took a sip, just long enough to regain her composure. “Well, I should…I should probably leave. It’s late, and I don’t generally make a habit of drinking with people who aren’t my friends or…whatever.”
“Of course…no, yeah. I totally understand.” Kate’s voice was measured, but something in her eyes betrayed her. “Want me to walk you to your car?”
“Nah, I’ll be alright. Thank you though.” Lucy flashed a smile, all fake joy and hollow bravado. “I’m scrappy, don’t worry about me.” It came out softer than intended. She wasn’t quite sure what she was referring to anymore.
Lucy turned to face the door, holding back a question with both hands, and closed her eyes for the space of a deep, steadying breath. The words slipped away the moment she chanced a backward glance.
“Hey Kate, before I go can I…can I ask you a favor?”
“Hmm?”
“Purely professional. Very important.” Lucy scanned the darkness outside. Holding her gaze was like staring into the sun. “I get the whole invulnerable and indifferent bit, I really do, but…maybe laugh like that again? Just once even, in the bullpen…for me?” She hadn’t meant to phrase it quite like that. At least, she didn’t think she had.
One heartbeat stretched into another, the rustle of clothing mingling with the tinkle of glass on granite.
“It’s just…. Jesse doesn’t seem to believe that your government-issue armor is susceptible to my signature blend of disarming optimism and devastating charm.” Lucy held her gaze for a moment, basking in the intensity. Her eyes were inscrutable. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think he’s convinced there are feelings underneath that armor at all.”
“But you are?” It was audible, that soft hint of a smile playing the corners of her mouth again. Taunting. Her answer was there for the taking.
“I’m just sayin’ the word Elsa may or may not have been tossed around.”
“Is that so?” Lucy didn’t recall moving, but they were somehow closer than before. “I don’t go around giving those away, you know. Can’t have it getting out that that annoying woman from DIA has feelings – I have a reputation to maintain.” Kate tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowed, lips still twitching. “You want a laugh like that, you’ve gotta earn it.”
“I mean I can, obviously. I’m amazing.” It broke with Lucy’s faint, dawning realization, slowly first then all at once. What she would give to lose herself forever in that smile. “But everyone else? It’s not fair, keeping it to yourself.”
“Unfortunately, life isn’t fair,” Closer still. Kate’s voice was softer now, almost a whisper, “but sometimes it surprises you. People surprise you. Might not happen today, but there’s always a chance it could happen…tomorrow.” Something in those words filled the space between them. Something like a prayer. Like a promise.
“Tomorrow…a whole new day, full of possibilities.”
“A clean slate, no mistakes yet.”
It was a choice in some way, but not any of the ones that mattered. Lucy looked up, all wide eyes through batted lashes. “I have made a lot of mistakes today, now that you mention it.”
She bit the inside of her lip. Something in Kate’s eyes was there for the taking. An invitation, perhaps. Something to hold on to.
“It’s still early. Maybe there’s time for a few more.”
She vanished with the darkness in the cold, clear light that precedes dawn.
Kate woke to an empty apartment bathed in warm shadow, all soft lines and hazy edges. Some part of her vanished with the darkness too, a piece she hadn’t realized she was giving away.
The sun rose again just like every day before, with no indication another morning had ever existed before this one. Just a note, scrawled on a scrap of discarded packing paper and carefully arranged with a hundred dollars in cash on a box labeled Miscellaneous (delicate).
From the desk of the Honolulu Tourism Authority:
My team takes turns buying coffee every morning, but Tennant has one very strict rule – the newbie isn’t allowed to pay for anything until Tonelli in Installation Management tells them that story about his second deployment on the USS Carl Vinson. Trust me, you’ll know when you hear it. It’s a Pearl rite of passage. This is from all of us – it should cover you until then.
Welcome to Oahu, DIA Officer Whistler. We look forward to working with you.