_Who_ (Team Angst)
Title: Who Are You?
This fic was written for the Angst vs Schmoop Challenge at numb3rswriteoff. After you’ve read the fic, please rate it by voting in the poll located here. (Your vote will be anonymous.) Rate the fic on a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being the best) using the following criteria: how well the fic fit the prompt, how angsty [or schmoopy] the fic was, and how well you enjoyed the fic. When you’re done, please check out the other challenge fic at numb3rswriteoff. Thank you!
Author: Keenir.
Betas: Mustangcandi, Babnol.
Pairing/Characters: Colby Granger, Nikki Bettancourt.
Rating/Category: PG-13/Mature.
Spoilers: Janus List.
Summary: While on the run, Colby runs into his former girlfriend, and he asks her for help.
Notes/Warnings: The premise/divergence is that Colby and Nikki met and started a relationship before the events of The Janus List.
References: 'The Enemy Within: a history of espionage'
* yes, Cassanova was in the employ of the French against the English.
* Sir Robert was the founder of the Boy Scouts.
Author's Note: While the opening line is originally from the Talmud, I got the opening sentence from an episode of Warehouse 13.
Note to self: Never let Nikki meet Michael Westen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colby:
'Do not rush into danger. A miracle might not save you.' I'm not gonna claim I calmly take my time examining every action I can take - to be honest, I doubt even Charlie can claim that. But that Talmudic line's echoing what I heard growing up, so I step away from Dwayne here on the subway platform: those cops're looking for *two* guys possibly chained together, not for one guy and another guy. They're gonna scan the platform, and if they don't see who they think they're looking for, *then* they'll look again, this time with (more) relaxed parameters as Amita might say.
And it’s just in time that the subway train arrives, too. Sitting there, back to the window and me, is a head of hair me and my fingers know oh-so-well. She won't be happy to see me, but as there are more cops coming down the stairs, and as Dwayne's already sitting one car over (and as I have my orders), I slide inside just before the doors squeeze closed.
I don't put my hands on her shoulder - she doesn't have my training, but as they say, she knows enough to be dangerous. "Nikki," I say, breathing her name. "Don't get up, don't move."
"Granger?" she asks me, all bite in her voice.
"Yeah."
"Funny thing. I heard you were in prison."
"I was." No sense with half-truths. David probably broke the news to her himself. After I glance over to be sure Dwayne's not suspicious or anything, I see Nikki's already reaching for her cell. "Not 9-1-1," I ask her.
"No?" That tells me she was going to do exactly that, and she still is. God I miss her, even that.
"You remember Don Eppes?"
"Your boss," Nikki says. And boy was that awkward - two and a half weeks after we met (my second and last speed-dating experience), we met on a case. She flips open her phone.
"I suppose it wouldn't matter if I said I was undercover, would it?"
"Wow, you really are psychic," Nikki says, "'cause that's exactly what I was thinking."
"Michael Kirkland works counterintelligence in DC," I tell her.
"Is that supposed to mean something? Well maybe to your Chinese pals. And I ain't them."
"Kirkland's my handler. Him and a very few others have been working with me the whole way."
"This whole time?"
"That's right," I say, double-checking on Dwayne - he's feeling that head wound, nothing more.
"So you're telling me about more treasonous guys - why? As an apology?"
Never thought of it that way. Yeah I suppose I owed her more of an apology than I gave her at the time. And yeah, embarking on a relationship, even one as great as ours was, wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Wouldn't undo it, though.
Maybe I would... for herr sake. "Because I know you'll put this to good use. I trust you, Nik. More than anyone else." Don's a close second, for reasons of loyalty.
"What makes you think I won't turn you in, Granger?" Hell, I hurt her worse than I thought.
Fine, I'll think like she's thinking right now. "You want me, or the guy high in the DOJ Kirkland thinks is taking orders from the Chinese?"
"You," Nikki answers, and I know that tone in her voice. It's the same one I hear when she wants me to fix dinner and scratch an itch or two for her.
"I gotta do what I gotta do," I say, and it sounds like a pathetic excuse. But I'm about out of things I can say. And I'm of two minds about whether I want Nik asking me who I am.
"Yeah," Nikki says, and almost backing her up, the train stops, doors opening.
I make a decision and take a chance: I drop my phone into her hands. "This might be it. So... bye. And thank you. For everything." I'd kiss *at least* atop her head, hold her hand, something, anything ... but Dwayne might see, and my essential - damnable - cover'll be blown. That's why Nik's not reached for her sidearm or tried to stand up. She believes me, or maybe she thinks a jailbreaker like me will have minions ready to shoot if she tries anything?
"We'll see," Nikki tells me right before I go through the car doors.
I'd turn around, but as long as I don't, there's the possibility that she's not glaring at me, that we might get back together after this whole mess settles down. Yeah its about as likely as me catching Bin Laden, but it's not inconceivable.
That and I need the hope to get through this.
* * * * *
Nikki:
Shit happens to me. This time I was riding the subway back from a conference, the train stops like it always does to let people on and off, and - "Nikki," breathed just behind and to the side of me: just in front of the now-shut door.
Colby Granger. That's who's there. The hell...
"Don't get up, don't move," he tells me.
"Granger?" I ask, or would you rather I call you Quisling? You told me once about all the generations of service in your family - guess I should've asked if one of them was named Bennedict Arnold.
I know who you are now - a traitor. Question is, who were you...back before you gave up on everything?
"Yeah."
"Funny thing. I heard you were in prison."
"I was," he says like he's tired of lying. Finally.
Doesn't mean I'm not going to do my job, though, as I reach for my cell phone.
"Not 9-1-1," he asks me.
"No?" And why should I care what you want? You lost your vote when they locked your cell doors.
What stays my hand is the thought that if Granger's here, he's probably not alone - and even if he's unarmed (which I can't tell from here), the others probably arent'.
"You remember Don Eppes?" he asks me, and why's he asking that?
"Your boss," I answer. After you were arrested, Colby, I convinced your friends Don and David to let me see the unclassified parts of your confession. As Sir Robert Powell put it, 'For anyone who is tired of life, the thrilling life of a spy should be the very finest recuperation.' Based on what I saw, what you said in those interviews, I guess you felt the same way.
Right when I flip open my phone, half expecting to be cut down by an AK-47 or something more compact, Granger tells me, "I suppose it wouldn't matter if I said I was undercover, would it?" Tells, asks, I don't really care right about now.
"Wow, you really are psychic," I reply, "'cause that's exactly what I was thinking." Goes to show just how deep he sunk his hooks into me.
Some nights I lie awake, wondering why he didn't try to turn me - get me spying alongside him. Is that what spies do for the women they love, or do they love to leave their loves in the dark?
"Michael Kirkland works counterintelligence in DC," Colby says.
"Is that supposed to mean something?" Do spies do smalltalk when they aren't weaseling their way into confidences? "Well maybe to your Chinese pals. And I ain't them."
"Kirkland's my handler. Him and a very few others have been working with me the whole way."
"This whole time?" Convenient, that's for sure. The fewer people who supposedly know, the harder it is to verify.
"That's right," Colby says.
"So you're telling me about more treasonous guys - why? As an apology?" You're a regular Cassanova, Granger - you wormed your way into my heart and a dozen friendships, all while working for the other side - China, not France.
"Because I know you'll put this to good use. I trust you, Nik. More than anyone else." Sucks to be you(, because I don't feel the same, not anymore).
"What makes you think I won't turn you in, Granger?"
"You want me, or the guy high in the DOJ Kirkland thinks is taking orders from the Chinese?"
"You," I tell him, and damn him for making me chose, damn him for being a spy, damn him for not telling me, damn him for... At night, sometimes, my blood still boils for his touch. Even so, I ain't touching him ever again. Not after what he did.
If I could undo it...
"I gotta do what I gotta do," he tells me, and damn it, that's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. And that's saying something in my line of work.
"Yeah," I say just before the train stops and the doors open up.
Unbidden, he drops his cell phone down to my hands. "This might be it. So... bye. And thank you. For everything." And he doesn't do anything. Not even a hand to my shoulder for support....supporting me or him?
"We'll see," I tell him, and he's gone.
I'll tell Eppes for you, Col.
But us? You and me? We're through.
And if I can get you in cuffs, all the better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
author's note: I blame my Edgerton muse for that last line inserted at the last minute. he says it makes it more ambiguous.
This fic was written for the Angst vs Schmoop Challenge at numb3rswriteoff. After you’ve read the fic, please rate it by voting in the poll located here. (Your vote will be anonymous.) Rate the fic on a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being the best) using the following criteria: how well the fic fit the prompt, how angsty [or schmoopy] the fic was, and how well you enjoyed the fic. When you’re done, please check out the other challenge fic at numb3rswriteoff. Thank you!
Author: Keenir.
Betas: Mustangcandi, Babnol.
Pairing/Characters: Colby Granger, Nikki Bettancourt.
Rating/Category: PG-13/Mature.
Spoilers: Janus List.
Summary: While on the run, Colby runs into his former girlfriend, and he asks her for help.
Notes/Warnings: The premise/divergence is that Colby and Nikki met and started a relationship before the events of The Janus List.
References: 'The Enemy Within: a history of espionage'
* yes, Cassanova was in the employ of the French against the English.
* Sir Robert was the founder of the Boy Scouts.
Author's Note: While the opening line is originally from the Talmud, I got the opening sentence from an episode of Warehouse 13.
Note to self: Never let Nikki meet Michael Westen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colby:
'Do not rush into danger. A miracle might not save you.' I'm not gonna claim I calmly take my time examining every action I can take - to be honest, I doubt even Charlie can claim that. But that Talmudic line's echoing what I heard growing up, so I step away from Dwayne here on the subway platform: those cops're looking for *two* guys possibly chained together, not for one guy and another guy. They're gonna scan the platform, and if they don't see who they think they're looking for, *then* they'll look again, this time with (more) relaxed parameters as Amita might say.
And it’s just in time that the subway train arrives, too. Sitting there, back to the window and me, is a head of hair me and my fingers know oh-so-well. She won't be happy to see me, but as there are more cops coming down the stairs, and as Dwayne's already sitting one car over (and as I have my orders), I slide inside just before the doors squeeze closed.
I don't put my hands on her shoulder - she doesn't have my training, but as they say, she knows enough to be dangerous. "Nikki," I say, breathing her name. "Don't get up, don't move."
"Granger?" she asks me, all bite in her voice.
"Yeah."
"Funny thing. I heard you were in prison."
"I was." No sense with half-truths. David probably broke the news to her himself. After I glance over to be sure Dwayne's not suspicious or anything, I see Nikki's already reaching for her cell. "Not 9-1-1," I ask her.
"No?" That tells me she was going to do exactly that, and she still is. God I miss her, even that.
"You remember Don Eppes?"
"Your boss," Nikki says. And boy was that awkward - two and a half weeks after we met (my second and last speed-dating experience), we met on a case. She flips open her phone.
"I suppose it wouldn't matter if I said I was undercover, would it?"
"Wow, you really are psychic," Nikki says, "'cause that's exactly what I was thinking."
"Michael Kirkland works counterintelligence in DC," I tell her.
"Is that supposed to mean something? Well maybe to your Chinese pals. And I ain't them."
"Kirkland's my handler. Him and a very few others have been working with me the whole way."
"This whole time?"
"That's right," I say, double-checking on Dwayne - he's feeling that head wound, nothing more.
"So you're telling me about more treasonous guys - why? As an apology?"
Never thought of it that way. Yeah I suppose I owed her more of an apology than I gave her at the time. And yeah, embarking on a relationship, even one as great as ours was, wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Wouldn't undo it, though.
Maybe I would... for herr sake. "Because I know you'll put this to good use. I trust you, Nik. More than anyone else." Don's a close second, for reasons of loyalty.
"What makes you think I won't turn you in, Granger?" Hell, I hurt her worse than I thought.
Fine, I'll think like she's thinking right now. "You want me, or the guy high in the DOJ Kirkland thinks is taking orders from the Chinese?"
"You," Nikki answers, and I know that tone in her voice. It's the same one I hear when she wants me to fix dinner and scratch an itch or two for her.
"I gotta do what I gotta do," I say, and it sounds like a pathetic excuse. But I'm about out of things I can say. And I'm of two minds about whether I want Nik asking me who I am.
"Yeah," Nikki says, and almost backing her up, the train stops, doors opening.
I make a decision and take a chance: I drop my phone into her hands. "This might be it. So... bye. And thank you. For everything." I'd kiss *at least* atop her head, hold her hand, something, anything ... but Dwayne might see, and my essential - damnable - cover'll be blown. That's why Nik's not reached for her sidearm or tried to stand up. She believes me, or maybe she thinks a jailbreaker like me will have minions ready to shoot if she tries anything?
"We'll see," Nikki tells me right before I go through the car doors.
I'd turn around, but as long as I don't, there's the possibility that she's not glaring at me, that we might get back together after this whole mess settles down. Yeah its about as likely as me catching Bin Laden, but it's not inconceivable.
That and I need the hope to get through this.
* * * * *
Nikki:
Shit happens to me. This time I was riding the subway back from a conference, the train stops like it always does to let people on and off, and - "Nikki," breathed just behind and to the side of me: just in front of the now-shut door.
Colby Granger. That's who's there. The hell...
"Don't get up, don't move," he tells me.
"Granger?" I ask, or would you rather I call you Quisling? You told me once about all the generations of service in your family - guess I should've asked if one of them was named Bennedict Arnold.
I know who you are now - a traitor. Question is, who were you...back before you gave up on everything?
"Yeah."
"Funny thing. I heard you were in prison."
"I was," he says like he's tired of lying. Finally.
Doesn't mean I'm not going to do my job, though, as I reach for my cell phone.
"Not 9-1-1," he asks me.
"No?" And why should I care what you want? You lost your vote when they locked your cell doors.
What stays my hand is the thought that if Granger's here, he's probably not alone - and even if he's unarmed (which I can't tell from here), the others probably arent'.
"You remember Don Eppes?" he asks me, and why's he asking that?
"Your boss," I answer. After you were arrested, Colby, I convinced your friends Don and David to let me see the unclassified parts of your confession. As Sir Robert Powell put it, 'For anyone who is tired of life, the thrilling life of a spy should be the very finest recuperation.' Based on what I saw, what you said in those interviews, I guess you felt the same way.
Right when I flip open my phone, half expecting to be cut down by an AK-47 or something more compact, Granger tells me, "I suppose it wouldn't matter if I said I was undercover, would it?" Tells, asks, I don't really care right about now.
"Wow, you really are psychic," I reply, "'cause that's exactly what I was thinking." Goes to show just how deep he sunk his hooks into me.
Some nights I lie awake, wondering why he didn't try to turn me - get me spying alongside him. Is that what spies do for the women they love, or do they love to leave their loves in the dark?
"Michael Kirkland works counterintelligence in DC," Colby says.
"Is that supposed to mean something?" Do spies do smalltalk when they aren't weaseling their way into confidences? "Well maybe to your Chinese pals. And I ain't them."
"Kirkland's my handler. Him and a very few others have been working with me the whole way."
"This whole time?" Convenient, that's for sure. The fewer people who supposedly know, the harder it is to verify.
"That's right," Colby says.
"So you're telling me about more treasonous guys - why? As an apology?" You're a regular Cassanova, Granger - you wormed your way into my heart and a dozen friendships, all while working for the other side - China, not France.
"Because I know you'll put this to good use. I trust you, Nik. More than anyone else." Sucks to be you(, because I don't feel the same, not anymore).
"What makes you think I won't turn you in, Granger?"
"You want me, or the guy high in the DOJ Kirkland thinks is taking orders from the Chinese?"
"You," I tell him, and damn him for making me chose, damn him for being a spy, damn him for not telling me, damn him for... At night, sometimes, my blood still boils for his touch. Even so, I ain't touching him ever again. Not after what he did.
If I could undo it...
"I gotta do what I gotta do," he tells me, and damn it, that's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. And that's saying something in my line of work.
"Yeah," I say just before the train stops and the doors open up.
Unbidden, he drops his cell phone down to my hands. "This might be it. So... bye. And thank you. For everything." And he doesn't do anything. Not even a hand to my shoulder for support....supporting me or him?
"We'll see," I tell him, and he's gone.
I'll tell Eppes for you, Col.
But us? You and me? We're through.
And if I can get you in cuffs, all the better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
author's note: I blame my Edgerton muse for that last line inserted at the last minute. he says it makes it more ambiguous.