Doubt Truth To Be A Liar


veronica_icon.gif brian_icon.gif

Scene Title Doubt Truth To Be A Liar
Synopsis Veronica's investigation of the Pratt murder takes her to her own apartment to interrogate former agent Winters.
Date November 2, 2009

Dorchester Towers Veronica's Apartment

Doubt thou the stars are fire

Doubt that the sun doth move

Doubt Truth to be a liar

But never doubt that I do love.

Glancing up at the clock, knowing Brian will be home any minute for their dinner date, Veronica stacks up the pages she's been staring at for the past hour and puts it in her briefcase. The tech guys went over the information with her — not knowing what she knows, they didn't know what to make of the seemingly disappearing isotopes that seemed to overlap and just become one.

They also didn't know that the spot on the map that that particular isotope, nothing more than a little dot on a screen, was tracked to happens to be the very same spot on the map that marks the cross streets she's at now. The cross streets she lives at.

It's a large spot on the map, no doubt, but by following that marker on the computer screen over time, Veronica was about 99 percent positive that that particular little pinpoint belonged to Brian.

Which means he was at Pratt's house in Maine when Pratt was murdered and/or abducted.

She sits quietly on the couch, waiting for the door to open.


The door closes as Brian admits himself before allowing his back to slump against the door frame a deep sigh is exhaled as he tilts back his head. Looking exhausted, a hand reaches up to scrub at his face. Leaking breath, the black clad Brian goes to take off his suit jacket, having not yet looked at Veronica yet. "Think we can skip to sex and then eat after, I'm so fucking frustrated with the world I need to take it out on your—"

Turning, Brian's brow arches. She's sitting on the couch staring at the door. Leaving his coat hung up, he allows his last statement to fade into nothing as he takes a few steps forward, giving her a questioning look. "Hey. What's up?"

She's practiced in her head how to do this. A half a dozen ways — and each of those ways, a half a dozen times. But now her mind is blank. How do you ask the person who tells you they love you if they're killing the people you're supposed to be protecting? She was the one who told him that it was okay to have secrets — that they shouldn't tell each other everything.

"Tell me about Victoria Pratt." She'll let him tell her, let him back pedal, let him dig his own grave rather than accuse him of anything. Her eyes turn to look at him, that perpetually hurt look in them as always, though her jaw is set tight, trying to keep everything closed in, tight and locked.


Brian steps away from the door, and towards the kitchen, his single syllable is crisp and firm. He's not going to blatantly lie, but it appears he isn't about to tell her so easily. Winters wanders into the kitchen, starting to unbutton his white shirt. Finally undoing it completely, he goes into the cabinets in search of a tea bag.

And then he's talking as if she hadn't even spoken. "Did you not even make dinner?" Brian asks, looking a little disappointed. "Do you want to go out or should I make spaghetti?"


Her tone is incredulous. He's never flat out refused before. He's evaded, he's tapdanced, but he's never so bluntly said no.

"The plan was to go out, but I don't think what we have to talk about is for public ears," she says coolly, obviously not happy with the way this is playing out. "And I've been a little buys going over evidence to make you dinner." She watches him.


He reaffirms solidly, staring at her over the counter. "You made the rules Vee. You were the one who wanted it this way. So I get involved in stuff your parent-killing-baby-abusing-Company has eyes on and you want to change the rules? I've respected your secrets. Respected your space. You won't do the same for me. Don't try to set a trap for me or back me into a god-damn fucking corner. If you want to ask me something, fucking ask me." Brian nigh snarls before taking a breath. Calm down.

He lowers his gaze, going to the refrigerator to take out one last jar of spaghetti sauce. Placing it on the counter he goes to open it before trying to find their noodles in the cabinet. "Do you want some or not?"

"Funny, I thought I was asking you," Veronica says in a voice that could freeze alcohol. "Fine. Could you explain to me, please, what you were doing with Hana Gitelman at Pratt's place in Maine? Is Gitelman working for Monroe, too?" She doesn't ask the big question. The real question: did you murder Victoria Pratt? She's not ready for that one yet.

Hana Gitelman. A flash of surprise waves over Brian's eyes as that sets in. If Veronica is watching him closely she may catch him pausing for a moment as if digesting this. It may seem he was not aware of that bit. His lips draw thin for a moment… That means… Looking back down, Brian goes to pick up a pot and place it under the sink, filling it with water.

"That wasn't funny. Fart jokes are funny." Winters murmurs a tad angrily. Placing the pot on the stove he flicks it on, before stepping away from the stove. Setting his hands on the counter, he leans forward to look at Veronica. What was he doing? Honestly? "A favor for Adam. No. Hana doesn't work for him."

Her brows furrow, giving her that vulnerable look that she'd hate if she ever caught sight of it in the mirror. "Gitelman was there, but not with you?" she says, giving a shake of her head. "A favor?" It looks bad. It feels bad. She feels like she can't breathe. It's one thing for him to pretend to work with Monroe, but if he actually murdered Pratt as a favor. "What favor were you doing for him, Brian?"

A little cough, Brian brings up a balled fist at his mouth, looking over at his pot on the stove. The water starting to boil. And apparently so is Brian's temper. "What do you think?" Winters asks, frowning at her. "I didn't kill her Veronica. Hana did." Apparently. "Kid was missing. I took the body to Adam and passed it off like I did it." He gives a shrug.

Well, that explains that much. She knew Hana was at the scene, and she knew Brian was at the scene, but without a body, it's hard to tell what time the actual murder took place. "All right," she says, getting up, slowly, moving toward the kitchen. "Explain it to me. You didn't kill her, but you went to Maine to do what? Bear hunt and happened to go pick up a body for Monroe? Come on. What were you doing there? What were you hoping to do there? You seem surprised Gitelman was there. What were you going to do if she didn't show up before you?"

"Strangle her with my bare fucking hands, punch her repeatedly. Punch her over and over until she died in my hands." Brian glares at her in the eye, taking a moment before growling. "What do you fucking think of me? I'm not Company, Veronica. I'm not the one who goes around killing kids parents. And if I was you would have the audacity to get mad at me? You work for the people who murdered my family, Vee." Brian practically spits out.

"I would have convinced her we needed to fake her death, that Adam was coming for her and she needed to hide get out of country and I would have made it look like I killed her, and shown the evidence to Adam." Bringing his noodles out, he dumps it into the boiling water.

Those first words shock her, as if he's admitting to wanting to kill Pratt, even though she's already asked him more or less if he was there to do just that. But then his words turn personal, pointed and venomous, and her cheeks flare pink with anger, her eyes narrowing.

The rest of his words make sense, sure, but he's already done the damage. "I didn't say you killed her, but you were there, and you won't tell me shit even though that's the only reason at least one of you isn't still locked up with the Company. What am I supposed to think? You were there." She watches the noodles go into the water, rather than look at his face.

"So then what? You came back here, met with Monroe. He thinks you killed her?"

"You know I didn't do anything wrong. You know I wouldn't do anything like that. You're just pissed because I haven't told you and now you're going to fight just to fight." He reaches over to shut off the stove. Taking his shirt on, he tosses it on the counter taking a step away from Veronica. "You're supposed to think I'm telling you the truth. I tell you the truth whenever you ask. I leave stuff out sometimes. And you still get pissed." Taking a step towards the bedroom. "Yeah, and now I'm deeper in his group so I can give you your precious fucking information."

"Fuck it. I'm going to bed."

"The fact I went to Maine and you know what I'm doing and don't tell me what the hell is going on, you're wasting my time and my sanity and probably trying to actually get me fired, but you know what, if they find out what you and I are, and they find out how fucking badly I'm doing my job because the people I'm supposed to be stopping keep killing founders, they're not going to just fire me, Brian, they'll make me forget I was ever with the Company and everything about it, including you, but maybe that doesn't fucking matter to you."


"I need to know what you found when you got there, Brian. I believe you, I just… you went to Maine, and you didn't tell me that, and you didn't tell me when you knew I was there, and it's awfully coincidental that the same time you went there, she was dead. I believe you that you didn't murder her. I know Gitelman was there first. That's why I asked you what happened. I didn't accuse you of anything." This second speech is given in a quiet murmur, as if she doesn't trust herself to raise her voice any louder.

"Oh you think I don't know anything about memory wipes?" Brian stops short, pausing at the door. Looking over his shoulder, "I'm not hindering your investigation. I never kept you from doing your job. Not all the other agents have secret rogue boyfriends who can feed them information." Winters quips. "If you believe me, believe me."

"If you had accused me Vee, I would already be out the door. I told you everything. The woman was dead, there was no kid. That's it." Winters swings his hands before entering the bedroom. "If you want more, go waste your hours being a detective. Or you can come in and have vicious make up sex."

"I'm not done," Veronica says, following to the doorway of the bedroom but not entering. "I am investigating right now, and I'm doing my job. You were the first person — the only person — it appears, besides possibly the kid, to see Pratt after Gitelman left. That's not something to take lightly, and you know it. Where'd the body go? And what do you know about Gitelman? You knew the name already, didn't ask who that was. Did you see anyone else at the scene?"

"I am done. If I saw someone else, Veronica, I would have told you already." Brian goes to the bed. "I'm not a retard, Vee. If I had something that would actually help you, I would tell you. Adam has the body, what the fuck do you care. It doesn't matter. Half the questions you ask me don't matter. So the fuck what, you get the next step and then what? Where is this going? You know Adam is a bad man. Hana is obviously a bad woman. You don't need all the details to a homicide when you already know who the murderer is, Vee." Brian stares hard at her. "I can't believe you're doing this. You made our stupid fucking rules. If you ask me another question about this, I'm leaving." Plopping down at the bed, he looks up expectantly.

"Adam has the body." It's repeated, and luckily without the lilt of a question so he can't accuse her of asking another. "You know I have to talk to Denton about this. I talked to you first because I do care, because I didn't think you did it. But at some point we have to go after him, and it's been too long, and you digging around doesn't seem to be leading to anything, and more people are dying and I'm trying to stop that. No matter how bad and evil and corrupt you think I am for working for the Company, I am trying to stop people from dying. It's all I've ever tried to do."

Tears finally spring to those hurt eyes, and she turns out of the bedroom, down the hall. There's a rattle of keys as she scoops them off the coffee table. "Going for a walk," Veronica says shortly. She needs air, cold autumn air, away from accusations and bitter feelings and distrust.

Brian remains quiet as she speaks before she goes for the door. Laying back on the bed, he tries to decide whether or not he should be in the room when she gets back. A sigh flows out of his mouth. "Fffuuuuck."

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