Chapter Text
The lobby was just as busy as it had always been, but Emma stopped just at the base of the official seal inlaid to the marble floor and took a breath. It had been a long time since she had been at headquarters, and even longer since she had been there during the regular business hours when she would be surrounded by people moving quickly with briefcases and dressed in suits. The beeping of security passes and clicking of heels echoed in the hall, and the last murmurs of people on cell phones filled the air before they were forced to turn them off and leave them outside the secure area.
She had almost forgotten the measures at the gate – how the guards checked her ID and looked under her aging car for bombs – but it was comforting as well. Routine. Safety. And best of all, in these halls, she could actually be herself.
Not that she really knew what that meant anymore – she had spent so long in deep cover that some of her thoughts and dreams were actually defaulting to Russian, but she supposed that was part of the job. And now she was home – or at least, as close to home as she has ever gotten.
And yet, even here, she was out of place: having spent so long hiding in Europe's high fashion, she had ditched the suits and fancy blouses for a chance at wearing jeans and an open plaid shirt rolled up to the elbows, and she had been in the field so long that she didn't recognize any of the people striding past her.
She faltered. Maybe she should have just worn the damn suit. Maybe her first day back should have been met with a bit more decorum. And maybe she should move from her spot at the base of the seal because the guards were starting to look at her warily.
With a sigh Emma started to move toward the security desk (unsure if her old card would still work and not wanting to create a scene if it didn't) when she heard a familiar cry and felt strong arms circle around her waist and shoulders from behind. "You're back!" the voice squealed (far too loudly for right beside her ear) and Emma laughed.
"You should know not to grab anyone in this building without warning by now," Emma said to her tall friend, turning around to hug her properly. "It's good to see you, Ruby."
"Being in your ear isn't enough?"
"Never," Emma replied, and truly meant it. Ruby was her assigned tech-op but they were also so much more than that, with years of history and friendship behind them. She was also one of the only people that actually knew her; or at least, she was the person that had known Emma the longest, as the only person that Emma knew from before she avoided at all costs.
She pushed those thoughts aside – the time that she classified in her head as before was never something the liked to linger on.
Ruby waited patiently as Emma got her security card figured out and they entered the secured area together. "So, I go help Granny at home for two weeks and you're back stateside. Before I left everything was fine. What gives?"
Emma groaned. For all the good that she has done as a field agent, this was her most embarrassing blunder – and as small as it was, it caused some serious repercussions. "You remember Elsa?"
"The hot blonde from Norway you sometimes hook up with when you travel? You met her through your NOC, right?"
Emma nodded. Her non-official cover, or working cover, was with a coalition of energy companies that lobbied government on the companies' behalf. Elsa worked with one of the Norwegian branches of a large oil company, and they had met at a conference in Copenhagen a year earlier and had hit it off immediately.
It had been so easy to talk and chat with the pale blonde. It felt so natural to invite her out for drinks away from the conference center when the flow of conversation came so easily about Elsa's own tragic upbringing and how easy it was connect with her about her own (heavily sanitised) history, about being orphans, about taking care of younger siblings (foster in Emma's case), about being a woman in what was still seen as a man's profession and navigating their way through the oil and gas sector, especially in a country that wasn't their own...
And Elsa was so easy to please with barely-there touches and the slightest hint of affection. When Elsa invited her back up to her room she wanted so badly to say yes, but it was with an almost broken voice that she instead answered, "I work in Russia. Haven't you been paying attention to their current policies on people like us?" But Elsa finally convinced her with a few more drinks, a few close dances, and a very heartfelt promise that she was good at keeping secrets.
Turned out, not good enough.
Pulled back to the present by Ruby's expectant look, she sighed. "It's a long story, one that I'll need a few drinks to get through, and I'm supposed to be in debrief in five minutes. Allen's tonight?"
Ruby gave her a quick nod. "I'm holding you to that," she said with a finger point and a smile before turning off to her department, and leaving Emma feeling alone in the hallway, and yet surrounded by people passing her, all on their way to somewhere like they belonged. Still, she squared her shoulders and made her way through the building to what she knew was going to feel more like an interrogation room than a boardroom or office. At least this time she was allowed in the building, though she still feel a strange nostalgia for the open skies of Blue Bonnet, which stopped her in her tracks.
She never thought she would have a positive feeling for the CIA long term debriefing venue, considering that was from before, closed off in her mind with the months preceding it as the time that she did. not. think about. The slight bit of positive remembrance shocked her – and while she was usually so good at controlling her thoughts and emotions, she felt her breaths growing shorter, harder, and she leaned against the nearest wall. This day, this week was already throwing her off and she could not deal with going down that rabbit hole. This was not the time to be thinking about that period, not when she was likely going into a polygraph, not when that period in her life had been sealed in her file and only available to the highest clearance level. Even then, with the last DCS recently retired, she didn't think that anyone in the building had even seen that part of her file.
She leaned her head against the wall and took in deep breaths until the gasping stopped, until the colour had returned to her cheeks and she finally felt calm. This wasn't the debrief and recovery center. This was Langley. She was 28 – not 18 – and she just got back from Russia. She took one last deep breath and composed herself. If there was one thing that she knew how to do, it was compartmentalize.
She entered into the room to see a polygraph already set up, and another young face that she didn't recognise ready to ask her questions. She was sure there were another two or three people behind the two-way mirror, but it didn't matter. She was a spy. This is what she did. And despite her failings that made her leave Russia, she had worked there successfully on and off for five years. "Alright," she said to the unfamiliar man, knowing that she at least now looked confident. "Let's begin."
Ruby was already waiting for her at Allen's Tavern, a long time favourite of The Agency, and had a beer waiting. "I bet it tastes like piss after that last conference in Germany."
Emma laughed but tapped her glass to Ruby's all the same. The beer was subpar, but it tasted like home. She took a long look around the tavern patio and grimaced. "I don't recognize anyone here."
"Well, you know the history: hiring freeze in the 90s and so almost fifty percent of the Agency has less than five years experience -- and most weren't lucky enough to get recruited at 17 and 19 like us."
Emma nodded, conceding the point. She and Ruby had been part of the second round of a project that trained agents before going to university and then inserted into specific colleges and programs to keep an eye on many international students. The idea was to get agents recruited early and then trained in areas that the agency knew they had shortcomings, as well as have a way to hold on to the candidates they wanted before private industry got to them. The agents would get a free education providing they followed the many rules laid out for them and worked at the agency for a minimum of five years after graduation. Ruby had caught the eye of The Agency when she won a country-wide science fair by inventing a better fire suppression system for kitchens and had been invited for training while she was still in high school and Emma...
Emma stopped that train of thought for the third time that day. What was happening to her? Why couldn't she leave that particular place that she had closed off for so long alone? What happened to being good at compartmentalizing? And yet, she knew why as the memory of her walking past the white wall with tiny engraved stars swam in her mind, and before she could forcibly push it away, her phone rang.
She had been momentarily grateful for the distraction, until she realized it was Elsa's photo that came up on the screen and she swiped ignore, feeling a bit of guilt at not talking to the other woman.
She had almost forgotten that Ruby was there until she gently cleared her throat, and let her fingers gently trace the tops of Emma's. "Now, what really happened?"
Emma shrugged. "I was starting to feel burnt out and she invited me to Paris. I had a ton of vacation days stacked up and I figured it was the perfect time to use them. What I didn't know that she was just arriving a few days early of a work retreat. Company team building, or something," Emma continued with a wave of her hand. "When they all showed up, Elsa and I were still together – not hiding our relationship – and one of her colleagues works closely with the Russian minister who is aggressively homophobic..."
"Ah."
"Yeah. So I kind of lost all my bargaining power for my NOC and I basically had to leave Russia just as we need agents with government access there the most." Emma shook her head, still mad at herself.
"You were on vacation," Ruby answered emphatically. "That wasn't your fault; no way."
Emma gave her a weak smile and shrug. She was beating herself up about it pretty badly. She had been so careful when in Russia. She had never let her guard down while on official business in Europe with her NOC, only ever indulging when she was far away from any of her coworkers, from anyone in government – but she should have known that Elsa's colleagues would be coming. Elsa should have told her, and there was a part of her that still blamed Elsa for encouraging the semi-public sex in the first place... even though Emma knew she should have known that it could endanger her place working with the Russian government at almost any time.
The thing that probably hurt the most was that she actually liked Elsa, despite knowing that it never could have developed into anything further. Don't date foreigners was practically the motto of the Agency, and there was never any chance of a "close and continuing" status going through. Emma even thought a couple of times about trying to turn her into an asset, but they already had someone in her oil company and Emma didn't ever want to put her in danger.
She was dangerous enough as it was, with her wide blue eyes that sparkled with mischief and an almost unstoppable need to gain Emma's approval that she attributed to not being fully accepted by her parents before they died, and it turned out that Elsa really wasn't the best at keeping secrets anyway but –
"So," Emma said, interrupting her own runaway thoughts and wanting to change the subject. "You're pretty much the only one I talk to from around here. Catch me up?"
Ruby seemed to see the deflection and need for a subject change for what it was and was soon had Emma laughing with stories from bungled missions and the naivety of some of the new recruits. "... and he totally forgets that his line is still open and starts trying to hit on this older woman with the worst pick up lines I've ever heard, and he denied it the next day until I sent him the transcriptions."
"You transcribed them?" Emma asked with wide eyes and a goofy smile coming over her face.
Ruby shrugged with a devilish grin. "And did a literal translation. He didn't realize that he couldn't just use English pick up lines in Chinese."
Emma laughed again and another two beers were deposited in front of them. She was getting that familiar buzz in her head, and for the first time since she was discovered in Paris, she relaxed. "This was perfect, Rubes," she said softly. "I needed this."
"You were in poly all day?"
"And all week probably," Emma answered before taking a large sip. "Not that I don't like being back, but..."
Ruby nodded. "But you need the field," she responded, even though Emma knew that she didn't quite get it. As much as Ruby loved to travel and the thrill of the Agency, she also had a home here in the DC area. Sure, it had only been her and Granny for most of her life, but she had grown up in Granny's diner and had a community and roots. "I'll try not be offended by that," she added playfully, and instead of answering Emma flipped her off. "Besides," Ruby added, taking a moment to relish that she knew something that Emma didn't. "That's not what I heard."
"Wait, what?"
Ruby's wide lips smiled coyly. "Only that I was asked to get something ready for you, in case you needed it. And I was asked how your Spanish was."
Emma crinkled her nose. "My Spanish? It's a little rusty, but I figured that even if I was no good in Russia, I still have contacts in the region that would keep me in Eastern Europe."
"I'm just telling you what they told me, and think that deserves a little quid pro quo, don't you think?" Emma stayed silent, knowing that Ruby would get to the point soon – she was never one for patience, and Emma was proven right when she leaned in and asked, "so exactly how public was this sex in Paris?" and Emma threw a balled up napkin at her face in answer.
A deeper voice interrupted them from the door. "Now girls, am I going to have to split the two of you up?" The man asked pleasantly, and Emma jumped from the chair with a grin.
"David!" Emma exclaimed laughing before punching him in the shoulder. "Haven't you learned by now that trying to parent us is always the wrong way to get us to do something?" David had been one of their instructors at the farm, and though he was only about ten years older than Emma, had become a mentor to the both of them almost immediately. He had started out in the field, but when he got married and his wife wanted a more stable home, he transferred into training.
Ruby laughed and got in on the teasing. "Actually, trying to get us to follow any of the rules at the farm was always a bit hard for you. Honestly, who thought putting college aged kids in training was a good idea?"
David smiled back at the both of them but it looked thin, and Emma stepped into him and clutched his shoulder. "Hey, I heard about you and Kathryn," she said, with her voice low. "Sorry it's taken me so long, but if you need anything, I'm here, okay?"
David nodded solemnly before turning it back around. "Funny you should say that," David responded, warming back up, and settling into the spare chair at their table as they both sat down. "I'm ready to get back into the field, and you're supposed to be coming with me."
"I just came in. I'm supposed to be in debriefing all week – I'm not cleared for field duty again yet."
"Well, that's about to change. Mary Margaret wants to see you first thing in the morning. Both of you, actually," he added, turning to Ruby.
Emma was puzzled. Mary Margaret was around the same age as David, and part of The Agency's so-called 'royal family,' even though they denied that nepotism and preferential treatment existed; yet, she had climbed the ladder faster than anyone else despite her lack of field experience. But last Emma knew, she had been leading a task force focused on gathering information about an international arms dealer, and Emma wasn't under her purview.
"She was just promoted to being in charge of 'special projects', whatever that means," Ruby helpfully supplied, even though David frowned at her tone.
"It means that she has funding to do what she wants," David responded, a hint of discipline in his voice. "And tomorrow morning, she wants the two of you."
Emma and Ruby exchanged a look, but then David started talking again, this time a little softer. "I know it's still early but I have to get home... I just wanted to make sure I caught you so you weren't blindsided tomorrow morning." His gaze turned to Emma again, but this time he looked at her fondly. "It's really nice to see you, Emma," he muttered, and then got up and walked away.
Emma turned to Ruby, curious, but Ruby just held up her hands in surrender. "I don't know; you're the spook. You figure it out." But then she shrugged, and the two of them finished up their beers and called it a night, the rest of the gossip being left for another day.
Emma returned back to Langley far earlier than she should have given her night with Ruby, but jetlag and the timezone differences were playing games with her, and if she was already going to be awake anyway then she might as well beat traffic.
The halls were emptier than she usually ever saw them in the daylight and even though she always wanted to avoid that one particular place at headquarters, her feet brought her there anyway. She supposed that she would be going there sooner or later this visit regardless, so why shouldn't she take the opportunity when there was no one else around?
Whenever she passed the white wall with the engraved stars, she always gave it the respect that it deserved, but her eyes were always drawn to one star in particular. She hadn't been there when it had been carved seven years ago when it had been decided to finally add it to the wall, but she knew which one it was. Everyone knew whose star it was, both when it was first added and then when it had been officially declassified two years later. She hadn't gone to that ceremony either. But then again, no one was really supposed to know that she knew him.
It really was early and the hallways were quiet, and she didn't feel the same apprehension of stepping to the wall that she normally felt when people were around. It wasn't even the last star that had been added – there had been twelve added after his – but his was the one that she went to.
She couldn't bear to touch the engraving, even as she reached toward it and traced the outside. They had never even found the body, but with her accounts of what happened, of everything that had happened then, nobody had any hope. They had gone down there together, and only she had come back, even if she had never been the same. She felt a flash of anger, and then of sadness, and then many more complex feelings that she wasn't ready for this early in the morning.
She didn't want to go through all the events that led her to this point, but standing at his star, it was easy to remember the first time she had met Neal. She was a freshman and had been officially transferred to a charter school in the DC area. The school year had barely begun and she was already itching to leave, to run. She had just run from Ingrid, she had already run from Lily, and she would have run from her new group home too, if it wasn't for him.
She was good at stealing now – something beneficial that had come from the broken wreck she had become after Lily, something she had honed and practiced in her last group home after she had been considered weak by others, or bullied because she somehow become Ingrid's favourite, for all the good that did her.
She didn't take much when she managed to pickpocket – a couple of bucks so she could eat lunch, a baggie she hid for later, and once a cell phone from another student who was being really obnoxious with it, if only so that she could play snake during her study period. It was practice, it was a game, and stealing from the other students was a game that she was really good at. With Neal, she fell into him in the lunch line from behind, stealing his pack of cigarettes from the side-pocket in his bag.
She didn't even really smoke – while other students her age were experimenting with rebellion, she had no one to rebel against. Instead, she would hide out behind the convenience store across the street and light a cigarette for show -- giving her a reason to hide there -- and watch as the tiny embers glowed and burnt their way up the paper in her hand.
And somewhere along the way, she had even gotten a strange sort of respect from others that hid there – the rich kids wanting to defy their parents, the popular kids wanting to show off, the older students who had already gotten hooked. She really had just wanted to get away from the prying eyes of the teachers and the immature come-ons from the boys in the hall.
Then, there was Neal. Neal was one of the rich kids that had somehow convinced their parents that they didn't need to go to private school and had made the classrooms their own; yet, he was also the only one to ever notice that when she bumped into people in the hallway she took more than just a bruised shoulder or a glare. One day he just appeared behind the store where she watched one of his cigarettes burn down and immediately located her, his eyes angry and determined, and she swore in whichever language came up first when he stomped over to her.
But then he heard her swear and his brow furrowed, and instead of getting angry he simply put out his hand. When she reluctantly returned the pack she stole (which she did anyway, simply because she didn't want to start something bigger), instead of pulling out a cigarette of his own he fished around for a joint that had been hidden inside and sank down onto the pallet beside her. "You speak Russian?" he asked as he lit the joint and took a long drag, and Emma shrugged in response. "You speak anything else?"
She murmured back to him that she was conversational in four or five others (still ready to run if needed) and he lay back on the pallet, blowing smoke up into the air.
"I wish I had your talent," he finally said, just as Emma contemplated whether to steal another from the pack that Neal hadn't put away, despite the fact that she had barely taken a puff from the last one.
She had stared back at him in surprise. "Talent? All I got is a history of foster parents that wouldn't speak English and ones now that don't stock groceries."
He turned his head slowly to study her and after a moment, he sat back up and offered her the joint. She shook her head at him and he shrugged before inhaling again. "Yeah, talent. You're good. Can you do anything more than pickpocket?"
This time it was Emma that studied him. He was only two years ahead of her, but exhibited the growth spurt that none of the boys from her grade had yet gone through, giving him a bit of height on her and she wondered if she had to run away or fight back, how much of a challenge he would be.
But then he smiled at her – a stupid, glassy-eyed smile – and she felt the weariness melt away. Instead she felt intrigue and curiosity, and something else settle a bit lower. "Anything like what?" she finally asked, and his smile broadened.
"You're about to find out."
And find out she did – but not just what he thought he was supposed to be teaching her, like picking locks, blending into a crowd, or getting out of a choke hold, but also how to roll a perfect joint and how it felt when someone actually paid attention. He told her that she mattered, and he showed her that he cared, and he promised her a future, and she bought the dream called Tallahassee.
But their versions of Tallahassee were different and he started her down the path the led her here, to standing in front of his star, and still not knowing if she loved him or hated him for what he started.
The building was starting to wake and the low murmur of people getting to work was heard, and Emma knew she couldn't stand that any longer. She didn't want to be seen, for people to know that she had a connection to anyone on that wall. Besides, she still had time for coffee before her early meeting.