Participants:
| Scene Title | V for Vendetta |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Len tells Veronica he can't give her the information she seeks, but asks Curt and Len for other information on their case. Meanwhile, Curt is taking over Veronica's office. The two bond a bit over their personal vendettas. |
| Date | June 4, 2009 |
Veronica's office.
Curt is sitting in Vee's chair, which has been replaced with something leather, with arms, wheels, and that reclines. It's a Man Throne for the office, Curt's one luxury he allowed himself with all those months on desk duty. A great desk chair. He's leaning back and on the phone, tossing a raquetball high against the wall as he talks. "Yeah, I know you thought I was dead, sorry to disappoint Skids, but I'm not dead as you can plainly hear. So get the word out would you? Let the old fucker's know I'm back in business."
Vee comes in for the day and stops suddenly. She stares at Curt at her desk, her brown eyes narrowing. "Funny, I thought my office was down this hall and to the right…" she murmurs, peering down the hallway she just walked down. "That is my desk," she says, and she points at the corner. "You go here. Or better yet, in your own office. Why don't you have an office again?"
Curt puts the phone against his shoulder and eyes her for a moment, says nothing, then goes back to the phone, "Sorry Skids, I'm suddenly doing battle with a Harpy. Just let the right ears hear my name will you? Do that and I'll cut you loose the next time you fuck up assuming the fuck up isn't colossal in origin." he hangs up then and turns to Vee more fully, "Because princess, I've only been back for a week and a half and most of that time has been spent recementing my actual sources. Been gone a long stretch." he winks.
"God, would you cut the macho sexist crap?" she says with a groan, starting to drop her laptop case to the floor, then shouldering it once more. Apparently she's not going to make herself comfortable in the office as long as he's there. "Is there anything you've found out you'd like to share with me? Otherwise I'll go work somewhere else, because I'm not sitting next to you for any extended periods of time unless I have to. Research can be done separately. You can text me if you need me. If you can handle the technology of 2009."
"Still doesn't explain why you can't have your own office. I know for a fact we have empties. You just wanna leach off of me or something. Dorian Gray meets Dracula," she says with a toss of her hair. "I'll be in the break room, so you can talk to Stench or Skiff or whoever your shady friend was in private." She spins on her heel to head back to the corridor.
The door is open when Len steps into the doorway pushing a black leather chair. "I think this belongs in this office. It was in the men's restroom. Anything I need to worry about?" He lets the chair loose as he rolls in a few feet and stops. Len is definitely looking a little worse for wear today after days of dealing with Phoenix — which decided to come out of the closet; Tracy Strauss, only to find out that Magnes was planning shenanigans, as well a multitude of other things that are going on underneath the surface that most agents have not been privvy to.
Curt doesn't even look a little appologetic when the chair's location is announced. He just shrugs and puts on his best innocent face. "I put it in the hall." Sure he did. He stops bouncing the ball now and shakes his head, "Not a thing boss. Just breaking in the rookie." uh-huh.
"Rookie," Veronica repeats and turns to look at Len with wide eyes, like "can you believe this guy?" "Thanks for the chair," she tells the tall cowboy. "Great, now I have to spray it with Lysol," she adds. "Anything new, Agent Denton?"
"I was about to ask if there was any progress here." He leans against the doorframe as he speaks. "Look, in the event that you are able to get in touch with the Bradley of the future — Elisabeth Harrison suggested to me that whatever April Bradley had to say was false. What I do know is that Bradley spend time in prison in the future. I need to know what it was about. If you cannot get her to come to me, then see if you can at least get me that information." Len glances from one to the other, perhaps wondering if he made the wrong decision in putting these two together.
Curt nods his head and makes a few notes in a flip open spiral bound book thingie. Old school. "Sure thing boss. Prison. Why. Important. That it?" he asks curiously. Once the business started he stopped teasing Vee, or it could be that the boss is there.
"We'll make more progress if you find him an office," Veronica says. It's not meant to be snarky — it literally is an appeal for her sanity. Not to mention her youth and health. "Right. If we can't bring her to you, we'll interrogate, maybe use her freedom as leverage. Could be useful to have a truth detector agent with us, but I guess that I can ask for a pony for my birthday too, right?" she asks with a smile. "Does Harrison know where we might find future Bradley? When'd Harrison run into her?"
"She didn't say much more than that. So, I've no idea if she actually talked to her, or talked to someone else who came with Bradley. That being said. It's all yours." Len pushes himself off the doorway. "Oh, Sawyer — lemme speak with you for a few minutes out here." He disappears out of the room.
Veronica glances at Curt. The look clearly says, 'You better not have gotten me in trouble.' Everything you need you really do learn in Kindergarten. She follows Len outside of the room, pulling her own office door shut. "I'm sorry…" she begins, with a glance at the door. "You know… he was sitting at my desk like he owned the place, and I got bitchy."
Closing the office door as Veronica leaves to give them just a bit of privacy, Len shakes his head. "No. You asked me to look into a few things for you. All I can tell you about them at the moment is that what you're asking me — is beyond even /my/ security clearance. Before you say anything, I'm going to petition for the information to be made available or to have someone who has that clearance made available to you. Of course, there's no guaranteeing anyone will talk to you, but I'm doing the best I can with this." His hand moves to her shoulder as he speaks to her, so he can keep his voice low. No sense in having anyone else overhearing their conversation.
Veronica's apologetic look becomes one of surprise, then confusion, and then finally anger. "It's my father I'm trying to find out about, Len. I should have the right to know what really happened to him, dammit," she says in a low, very angry voice. "Who can I talk to who has the clearance to be able to tell me what happened?" she demands.
Len shakes his head. "I haven't figured that out yet. As soon as I do, I'll let you know. Just give me some more time. You've waited this long. I'm not saying you can't have the information, it's just a matter of finding the person who will give it to you. You, as well as anyone, know how deep the secrets run around here."
She shakes her head. "It's different when it's family, Len," she points out, her voice sort of hollow. "I've lived the past ten years thinking one thing happened, and it's looking like something else did. It may be true that I waited this long, but it's not the same world in my head now. It's all … upside down and confusing." She has that vulnerable look on her face she'll need to shake off before going back into Curt or he'll eat her alive.
"Shake it off, Sawyer. I'm doing the best I can, however I still need your head in the game." Len gives her shoulder a soft squeeze with his large hand. "As soon as I figure it out, I'll let you know." He dips his head, waiting for her acknowledgement — her understanding.
"Shake it off. Like it's a pulled muscle," she repeats and sighs. "Fine. I trust you, that you're trying — it's better than some bogus story in a neat little file that you could give me, and how the hell would I know any different, right?" she says. "Thanks for that much." She pats his hand on her shoulder, letting him know she doesn't blame him.
He nods, his hand moving from her shoulder as he stands up straight. "Let's keep this between us still for the moment — at least until we find out more." Len's eyes turn to look at the closed door to her office, indicating she may not want to confide any of this as of yet to anyone else. "I need to head out. Seems I've more meetings to attend. Keep an eye on your chair from now on." he grins before heading off back towards his office.
Veronica opens the door, if only to push her chair back inside. She glances at Curt, to see what he's been up to, while she was having her chat with Len outside. "If you put my chair in the men's room again, I will get someone to invent me a robotic guillotine machine that will decapitate you by remote control," she says, mock-sweetly.
Curt is sitting there fiddling with one of her pens and is drawing a picture of a chick on a peice of copy paper. His style is a bit… tattoo esque, but he's actually pretty good, "Princess, been there, done that. Partner number three." he pushes himself to his feet and leaves the pen and picture on her desk as he reaches for a peice of gum from a pocket. "I used this fancy phone we get to send pictures to a few of my CI's maybe we get lucky and someone spots Doyle or our future broad."
"Uh." She frowns a bit. "Okay, but don't tell them why you're looking for them… you know, this is classified stuff. Not even our own fellow agents are supposed to know what we're working on, not the details, you know?" she says, leaning against the doorway. "You trust your CIs?" she asks, tilting her head, glancing at the picture, then back up to him
Curt grins, "Told them it was a minor drug beef for the girl, she had some info I needed, no biggie. The guy I told them was a pedophile." he shrugs, "They'll keep an eye peeled for Doyle and only look for the girl in a cursory manner. Hide in plain sight and all that." he rolls the ball with a fingertip. "Not as far as I could spit them, but I trust in their fear of me." he shoots her a look, "Before the Company got all touchy feely and turned into the Junior Prom of opporations there was a time we were more old school. Some of that fear still holds and I use it to it's fullest potential."
"Right. They're all just a buncha snugglebunnies now," Veronica says with a shake of her head. If only Curt knew that his current partner's last assignment was to kill Goodman. "Well, just make sure they don't leak that to the police or something. We don't want the cops on these people's cases. It's a bitch when they get involved."
Curt shakes his head, "They're more afraid of me then the cops. Trust me." Curt wouldn't care who she killed, only if she failed. "So, what's the plan now princess? We gonna bond over some ice cream or maybe talk about our childhoods? Cause I gotta warn you, mine's disappointingly happy."
She narrows her eyes at him. "I don't care about your childhood, Lu. And I know you don't care about mine, so we can skip that step," she says coolly. "But what do you need to trust me?" She doesn't trust him, that's for sure, but she offers the question up to him first.
Curt eyes her, "What's the point princess? What are you going to do? Take a bullet for me? More likely then not." he shakes his head, "Tell me what you think of Us." the 'us' is capitalized in his tone.
She glances at her desk. Any sharp object there that he can impale himself with, thus injuring her? Nope. "I don't know what I think. I have friends who are Evolved, but I also think some are dangerous, and should be monitored. Obviously, or why would I work here?" she says carefully, watching him.
Curt shrugs, "Cause you're stupid? You need a job? Health care is good?" he shakes his head, "When I started here it was with a singular purpose. To find every freakish monster I could and put them away and melt down the keys. Preferably in the ground." he doesn't look away, doesn't soften the blow of his words, "There are some that are harmless, absolutely, even good people who don't know what they're doing… But that doesn't change what they are. I was a good man who unwittingly murdered seventeen men in Vietnam, crippled his daughter for life, and stole almost fifteen years of life from a woman I loved with a depth that knows no limits. I am then, and now, a monster. So long as you understand what we do here, so long as you believe in what we do here, that we put things like me away, then I will trust you. But until I know where your heart and mind lays?" he shrugs, "You're just another squishy waiting to happen. Cool?"
She looks surprised at the sudden honesty he shares with her, her eyes even softening at the mention of his friends, wife and daughter. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, eyes dropping to the floor for the moment. They flash back up again at the word 'squishy,' and she shrugs. "I have my own vendetta," she adds in a cold tone. Never mind she's not so sure these days if that vendetta is actually based on truth or a lie. "I believe in what we do."
Curt nods his head, "Good girl. That's what I wanted to hear." he pushes himself away from the desk and heads for the door, "When I see you mean it we'll get along famously. Maybe I'll pop that cure when they come out with it." he has no qualms about calling it a 'cure' apparently, "Make me an honest man. Heck, settle down with a girl who's terrifyingly younger then me and then disappear into a life mediocrity. Get fat, get a dog, if you're lucky I'll have my first affair with you." he heads for the hall, "So, I'm gonna get Starbucks. You want something?"
"Venti chai with soy milk," Veronica says with — could it be? — an actual chuckle at his words. "As long as I'm just the affair and not the wife. I'm not happy home maker material." There's putting it mildly.