The Warehouse and Lena's Bed and Breakfast, South Dakota, Wednesday
"Oh my god." Claudia couldn't help the exclamation slipping out her mouth as she finally set eyes on a picture of MacPherson, the evil bastard that Myka, Pete, and Artie were all currently out chasing.
Lena leaned over her shoulder. "Did you find him?"
Maybe it wasn't -- "Lena, who's that?"
"That's him."
"That's MacPherson?"
Lena frowned. "Claudia, what is it?"
"Lena . . . I know him."
"What?"
"That's Joshua's physics professor. I mean, it's been ages since I last saw him, but that's totally him. He looked me up a couple months ago and we started chatting --" Claudia pressed her hand to her mouth. "I was going to tell him about what I was working on. He said he might have some advice on firewalls. MacPherson almost helped me hack into the Warehouse."
* * *
Claudia swallowed, staring up at Lena and Mrs. Frederick. Lena looked concerned -- which was kind of her default expression -- and Mrs. Frederick mostly looked stern -- which was hers.
"Remind me never to play poker with either of you."
"Claudia," Lena said, frowning further at her attempt at levity. "We're worried you might have been . . . compromised."
"You mean you think I'm going to go all meta for Manchurian Candidate." Claudia's eyes widened. "Or that I already have. Are you kidding? I'm not even here most of the time. What good would I do as a sleeper agent?!"
"You have free reign of the Warehouse when you are here," Mrs. Frederick pointed out, just barely this side of gently. "And there has been ample time for him to contact you without our knowledge."
"Hey, you're the one who sent me to that school! What, like you don't have little spy cams around to make sure I don't get brain-whammied?" Claudia looked back and forth between them. "I would never let anyone turn me against you guys. The Warehouse is like my home! You know me. Lena, read me! Tell her I'm not working for MacPherson!"
Lena looked away. "I have." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Claudia, something's wrong."
"That's just the teeth!" Claudia tried. Lena shook her head, and Claudia threw her hands into the air, her anger allowing her to ignore the nasty lump of dread deep in her stomach, the sour taste of betrayal in her mouth. "You know what? Fine. Whatever. Just leave me alone."
She turned to storm up the stairs, wondering if one of them would follow her.
Neither of them did.
Somehow, that was almost worse.
* * *
Claudia shoved the last of the few things she kept on hand in the Warehouse into her messenger bag, then leaned over to scritch her kettle-ferret under the chin. "I gotta go, dude," she told it. "Maybe for longer than I usually go." Maybe forever, she didn't say. "Take care of Pete and Myka and . . . other Pete for me, okay?" She took a deep breath, pulling her bag over her head. The plane tickets were booked -- not the portal back to school, but an actual plane. She could catch a bus out of Univille without tripping any of Artie's radars.
Artie was going to be pissed. He probably already was. He probably thought she'd been betraying him this whole time, just MacPherson's proxy, hanging out, stealing artifacts -- She shook her head sharply. Enough of that. She had to get moving.
She paused at the door to the B&B to look back, then set her shoulders and her resolve and headed out.
For once, she was going to be the one to leave first.
[ooc: Wrapping up the catch up of "MacPherson". NFI.]
Lena leaned over her shoulder. "Did you find him?"
Maybe it wasn't -- "Lena, who's that?"
"That's him."
"That's MacPherson?"
Lena frowned. "Claudia, what is it?"
"Lena . . . I know him."
"What?"
"That's Joshua's physics professor. I mean, it's been ages since I last saw him, but that's totally him. He looked me up a couple months ago and we started chatting --" Claudia pressed her hand to her mouth. "I was going to tell him about what I was working on. He said he might have some advice on firewalls. MacPherson almost helped me hack into the Warehouse."
* * *
Claudia swallowed, staring up at Lena and Mrs. Frederick. Lena looked concerned -- which was kind of her default expression -- and Mrs. Frederick mostly looked stern -- which was hers.
"Remind me never to play poker with either of you."
"Claudia," Lena said, frowning further at her attempt at levity. "We're worried you might have been . . . compromised."
"You mean you think I'm going to go all meta for Manchurian Candidate." Claudia's eyes widened. "Or that I already have. Are you kidding? I'm not even here most of the time. What good would I do as a sleeper agent?!"
"You have free reign of the Warehouse when you are here," Mrs. Frederick pointed out, just barely this side of gently. "And there has been ample time for him to contact you without our knowledge."
"Hey, you're the one who sent me to that school! What, like you don't have little spy cams around to make sure I don't get brain-whammied?" Claudia looked back and forth between them. "I would never let anyone turn me against you guys. The Warehouse is like my home! You know me. Lena, read me! Tell her I'm not working for MacPherson!"
Lena looked away. "I have." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Claudia, something's wrong."
"That's just the teeth!" Claudia tried. Lena shook her head, and Claudia threw her hands into the air, her anger allowing her to ignore the nasty lump of dread deep in her stomach, the sour taste of betrayal in her mouth. "You know what? Fine. Whatever. Just leave me alone."
She turned to storm up the stairs, wondering if one of them would follow her.
Neither of them did.
Somehow, that was almost worse.
* * *
Claudia shoved the last of the few things she kept on hand in the Warehouse into her messenger bag, then leaned over to scritch her kettle-ferret under the chin. "I gotta go, dude," she told it. "Maybe for longer than I usually go." Maybe forever, she didn't say. "Take care of Pete and Myka and . . . other Pete for me, okay?" She took a deep breath, pulling her bag over her head. The plane tickets were booked -- not the portal back to school, but an actual plane. She could catch a bus out of Univille without tripping any of Artie's radars.
Artie was going to be pissed. He probably already was. He probably thought she'd been betraying him this whole time, just MacPherson's proxy, hanging out, stealing artifacts -- She shook her head sharply. Enough of that. She had to get moving.
She paused at the door to the B&B to look back, then set her shoulders and her resolve and headed out.
For once, she was going to be the one to leave first.
[ooc: Wrapping up the catch up of "MacPherson". NFI.]