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backwardsandinhighheels1945-blog · 10 years ago

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Karla goes to Diners and Ruins People's Lives Part 3 |Karla & Peggy| (16 February 2015)

Peggy sat at her usual booth. Files spilled out in front of her. A plate of fish and chips on one side. Coffee just beyond her reach the way she was sitting. She was stalling on actually eating the rest of her dinner in favor of finishing up the dregs of her work. There was only so much sitting in an office she could do. But at the same time she didn’t want to bring work home. Especially now that Steve would be waiting there for her. The files were more boring than sensitive but they all needed to be read. At least she needed to read it. Some of it seemed more like cultural exposition at times. Some of these files were clearly just trying to provide her enough context that she could do her job properly.

Mindlessly she would eat a chip then wipe her fingers on the paper napkin then turn the page. The paper she was working through at the moment was clearly just about the economics which had grown up around oil. And she’d thought it had been a mess in 1946. Was there a nuance that had been left untouched in the last 65 years? The more she read the less it seemed so.

***

Every time Karla smoothed out a problem, another one popped up. It had been the story of Karla's life, really. Always having to clean up the mess. Always having to do the work. Surrounded by the ordinary and forced to be the superior presence, Karla was consistently having to make sure the job got done despite whatever roadblocks appeared in the way.

The current blockage involved the woman eating fish and chips.

The woman was a clone of Agent Peggy Carter, one of the original minds behind SHIELD. She was a top expert in espionage and an individual who always put the mission and the country above all else, believing that having good intentions overcame any shady actions.

Karla honestly found it a bit fascinating that her pretty face had apparently completely distracted Steve Rogers from the obvious threat and contradicting values she posed. He clearly couldn't be trusted to assess the threat himself. Sam seemed to have no intention to handle it, allegedly believing that it would be best to leave it to Steve's judgment. As Steve's judgment had left Karla in an illegal experimentation facility, she had no intention in trusting in it just yet.

She entered the restaurant calmly. Dressed in simple charcoal gray pants and a cotton button-down, Karla looked like an average woman returning from work. She flashed the approaching waiter a smile and waved him away before approaching Peggy's booth. She slid into the seat across from her, blue eyes looking squarely into those of the clone.

When she spoke, the words came out calmly as if merely commenting on pleasant facts.

"We need to talk."

She might as well have commented on the clear sky for all her tone conveyed, but there was a way about her that indicated she could change from friendly at the drop of a hat. Maybe it was simply confidence or maybe it was something else entirely, but it was certainly present.

***

Peggy glanced at the woman over the top of her file. She hadn’t intended to meet someone here. And she’d never seen this particular blonde before. Peggy scowled ever so slightly in confusion. Or maybe she had seen her. Or her photograph. Or in passing. But she’d never met her. Or exchanged names. There was no reason for her to make such a brusque introduction. But Peggy folded the file down back into the folder. Partially to give this woman her full attention. Partially because though the files only detailed the recent history of the oil trade they were still technically classified. She needed a word? How curious. She straightened herself up in her seat from where she’d been slouching and tapped her finger to the coffee. The blonde had a way about her that said she wasn’t going to be refused this particular conversation. In a minute Peggy as sure she’d explain exactly why they had to have this surprise conversation in the middle of a diner Peggy herself didn’t know she’d be in until an hour ago. “Alright. What do we have to talk about?” She took a sip of the now lukewarm coffee in her mug. She’d been here perhaps a half hour and everything was getting a little unpleasant to the taste. It was still better than some of the coffees she’d had in her life. Peggy noticed that this blonde woman was dressed like a professional. But there was something in her conduct which said otherwise. Some element that wasn’t as hidden as she knew professionals to be. The blonde wore something on her sleeve. It wasn’t her life. But it was quite the projection of confidence that was rare to see. Perhaps she was eccentric. Perhaps it was a cover. She didn’t comment on either. Rather, she waited for her to state her business. She put her coffee down and took another chip off of the plate. Also getting cold. She hadn’t noticed while she was reading. Her eyes itched to look at her watch but she kept them on her visitor.

***

The waitress walked over, oblivious to the energy of the booth. "Can I get you anything?"

"Tea, please, with lemon. Green tea if you have it." Karla flashed a smile and the waitress found herself smiling back. A quick glance to the nametag. "Thanks, Denise."

Denise walked away and Karla's attention returned to Peggy. Cool under pressure. Her reply had been practiced and simple. Just as Karla would expect from a professional.

"Okay, let's keep it simple. My name is Karla Sofen. You are the clone of Peggy Carter. I take it you still go by the same name. Same memories instilled in you as the original so it stands to reason you would keep the name."

Denise set the tea neatly on the table. Karla flashed a thankful nod to the waitress before raising the cup to her lips. She silently blew gently on the liquid, letting her silence hang in the air.

A small sip, a small smile. Cup back to the table.

"Frankly, we need to discuss you, whatever name you go by."

***

It wasn’t a secret that she was a clone of the original Peggy Carter. She didn’t give the subject much thought. It wasn’t something of which she was overly conscious. But it was clear that she wasn’t the original. She hadn’t met the original. The version of herself which tool the slow road to get here. Who had lived an entire life. The life she had thought she’d live. The life she’d been entitled to. Perhaps the real Peggy Carter had had a life full of joy and suffering. But it had been the real thing. But even so it wasn’t the sort of thing people brought up to her much. Either they knew her when she looked the way she did now. Or they hadn’t known her at all and it was her first time. With the exception of Howard’s son. Apparently they had known each other on some level between him growing up and her growing old. “I am Peggy Carter, yes.” Karla could know her as ‘Peggy Carter’ rather than ‘the clone of Peggy Carter’ just like everyone else she’d become acquainted with since she’d woken up. Since she’d been reborn. Since she was recreated and transported. There was no good way to phrase what had happened to her. Cloning just sounded so mechanical and so unlike her. She paused in her conversation as the waitress came by. It wasn’t so long ago that her best friend had the same job. But things were different now. She didn’t know these women. It was just a little harder to get to know anybody. And maybe there was the element that she just didn’t want to. She’d been here for a year and it all felt so temporary still. So many new people coming and going from her day to day life and none of them stuck. Or maybe she was the one who was unstuck. Maybe she just didn’t want to admit that it was really permanent. “Pleasure to meet you, I’m sure.” She paused again to tap he nail on the mug and trace down the smooth side. Was she a SHIELD agent? How else would she know who she was and need to confront her about how she got into this century in one piece. But she didn’t conduct herself like one. It was hard to pin down what she did seem like. Maybe like one of the super group Steve led but she seemed too free even for that.

***

The clone called herself Peggy Carter and, while Karla had expected it, she felt the faintest twinge of annoyance. It was like the being was lying to her face yet had no idea.

"I apologize for the sudden nature of this, but I've found that people are much more open in these situations than when having scheduled an appointment of some sort. With your replicated history in espionage, I'm sure you understand." A small smile.

"Given your unique circumstances, I'll admit to having been a bit leery of you. Steve seems to believe there is no reason to be concerned, but...well, I just want to see for myself. Apply my expertise, so to speak." Karla took another sip of the tea.

"Think of this as me reaching out, hoping to understand you better."

Well, understand her better so as to best eliminate her, but that comment seemed unnecessary. Karla knew damn well that this clone presented a threat, overtly or otherwise. But rushing in, guns blazing, would only make this woman shut down and Steve give a lecture.

No, better to put her college education to good use. No one picked apart a mind better than a psychiatrist.

So Karla picked psychiatrist wording carefully, tipping her hand ever so slightly. Utilizing the words "understanding" and "concern" rather than more aggressive terms, keeping her phrasing succinct and direct yet open.

"To put it simply, I'm here because I'm hoping you could maybe tell me a bit about yourself."

***

Peggy pulled another salted chip free and took a bite as she listened. Certainly Karla was a woman on a very determined mission. Albeit not a clear one. She was here to understand. But understand what? And she had implied she was here on someone’s behalf. Possibly an organization. She’d mentioned Steve but he’d never mentioned Karla. She washed it down with a sip of coffee. It was a strange way to start an interrogation. It wasn’t standard procedure to tell someone in exactly what ways one planned to soften the other into spilling their truths. If anything a move like that would counteract the initial surprise. Wouldn’t it? It was surprisingly difficult to gage exactly what this woman thought of her. Was it fear? It wasn’t fear. She was too self assured for fear. It was like her language and her actions spoke two different languages. It was hard to know which one she could trust. Her words were direct. But her movements looked like a put-on show. But she knew Steve. “You say you know Steve, but he’s never mentioned you,” she began. A lot of people knew about him. Perhaps now he was even more of a figure than he was during the war. Back then there seemed to be more heroes to go around. It was like he’d grown into himself over the course of seventy years. “How do you two know each other?” Maybe now she could get her answer on who this woman was and what she did. The ambiguity of her nature had been making Peggy curious since Karla had sat down. She picked up her fork and peeled back the crust on her cod. No. It was catfish. Undeniably a better fish but annoying that she couldn’t get such a simple dish made properly. She took a bite anyway. Her eyes flicked from the fish to her visitor waiting for her to say something. She would let Karla talk. Clearly she had a lot to say and she knew more about Peggy than she was letting on.

***

Okay, fair enough. Karla hadn't exactly expected the woman to begin spewing facts and details. Steve and Sam had both been the same.

Though, to be fair, Sam had been following her for weeks so she had really been more than fair with him. Paid for his food, answered his questions, and he had still...ugh. No. She could bother with that later.

For now, she simply nodded in response to the question. "Fair enough. I said we needed to talk, so let's talk. You ask a question, then I go. No need for this to be an interrogation." That smile again. Another sip of tea.

"I know Steve through a...complicated history. He and I have not always seen eye to eye. If you want to oversimplify things, you could think of me as a villain of sorts. Eventually, this resulted in him turning me over to SHIELD. Instead of giving me a proper trial for my actions, SHIELD immediately placed me into a scientific compound and experimented on me for...two years, roughly."

She let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I recently got out of the facility and found Steve. We talked, I explained what happened and confronted him with SHIELD's actions, and then he left. But we've had our...occasional conversations, more or less. He sent a friend to keep an eye on me. Perhaps you know him, Sam Wilson?"

Another sip of tea. A squirt of the lemon into the tea before dropping it in.

"So, now you know about me and Steve. My turn. If you recognize yourself to not be the original Peggy Carter, why did you choose to refer to yourself by the same name? It appears as though you are continuing her life."

***

Her candor was refreshing. That at least could be said for Karla. Though she’d provided so much information that Peggy wasn’t quite sure what to process first. Or decide what was important. Or where she’d not been given enough information. Firstly she let her mind fill in the blanks around Steve’s unusual treatment of her. Surely he’d thought that she’d get a trial. He must have been lied to or he wouldn’t have subjected her to such experimentation. Or maybe what she’d done really was that bad. Was she sitting across the table from someone not too far afield from the Red Skull? It wasn’t his style but there was no monopoly on treachery. She nodded at the mention of Sam Wilson. They’d met. Once. In one of the most awkward conversations she’d ever had in her life. Days later she still didn’t know quite what to make of it. “I understand he’s a friend of Steve’s.” And they had tried to make her understand that they were somehow more than that. It wasn’t a foreign concept to her. Either the idea of two men together or the idea of opening a relationship. But it just hadn’t seemed like Steve. She’d thought he was different. Thought that now he had her he wouldn’t think twice about that sort of thing. But she’d been wrong about that it seemed. And only time would let Steve’s secondary feelings fade. Sam had been nice. If Steve had to act this way at least it was with someone who was kind and funny. “I didn’t know that anybody at all was tailing you, though.” It must have been a little while back. Her turn? When had she agreed that they would take turns? But rather than point out to Karla that that wasn’t how games worked she played along. “You want to know about my name? I call myself Peggy Carter because that’s what I’ve always been called. If it confuses you that there are two of us, you can think of us as family members.” It wasn’t uncommon to name a close family member after someone they resembled or acted like. In a way that was her situation. She didn’t have the same life experiences as the other version of herself. But she did have the same personality and the same look about her. And the same first thirty years of memory. That in and of itself wasn’t nothing.

***

"I doubted he would tell you I was being tailed. I honestly doubted he would tell you about me at all. He's pretty upset about our whole...history. The champion of American Justice turning a blind eye to a lack of fair trials for 'villains' is disappointing for him."

She watched Peggy's reactions carefully. Years of psychiatry training and work, followed by years of outright manipulation, had made her something of an expert. This clone was an expert at espionage but she was also out of her element. An expert to the end, Karla doubted Peggy would betray much.

But that was fine. Tonight was just an exploration round.

Peggy's answer was...humorous, at least. Disturbing at best. Family members? She would have to remember that.

"Interesting. So you don't view yourself to be the original Carter, but like a family member. Your continuing to work for SHIELD is just following in her footsteps."

Not a question, but a casual observation. There would be plenty of time for more questions later.

"Let's continue. I imagine that someone missing several decades of information has a question or two."

***

Peggy didn’t like what Karla was saying about Steve. But she filed it away for future information. She wouldn’t jump to ill conclusions about someone who wasn’t here to defend himself. But somewhere under the slander she wondered if there was some truth to it. When the time was right she’d ask him about it. “Well, no,” she clarified, “I see myself as…” Well she wasn’t the original. That much had been drummed into her. “I don’t think about it. I know what I know of life and I’ve lived certain experiences.” She stopped at that. She hadn’t said more than she’d wanted to but it had come out rather quickly. Why had she felt he absolute need to correct this woman? And why did her opinion of her matter? It didn’t really. She was someone Steve knew from a long time ago it sounded like. Hardly the sort of person she should care how she was thought of. Karla’s next question was getting to be a bit of a typical one these days. New people pointing out that she had decades of missing information. Often they would try to fill her. Ironically it was always the same few things. Then they’d entirely neglect something until it became obvious she didn’t know something she really should have. That was what these files were fore. Dull but they were factually correct and full of necessary information about missions she would be used for. “Thank you for your concern but I have ways of learning what I need to know.” She finished off the coffee and signaled to the Denise that she wanted a refill. “Decaf again?” Peggy nodded and Denise poured her from the orange lidded pot. Somewhere along the way she’d grown to enjoy the taste of it. “Cheers.” She took a sip and leveled her gaze with Karla’s. “So it sounds like you have a personal vendetta against my—” Boyfriend? “Against Steve and you’ve had a run-in with a friend of his. You identify yourself as a villain and admit you’ve been in federal custody. What do you think I’ll do for you?” Of course she wanted something.

***

Karla blinked, then laughed as the waitress stepped away. "Oh, no, I think you misunderstand. I have no vendetta against Steve. If I did, he'd be dead."

She paused, then shook her head. "Right. My mistake. I wasn't clearer about myself." Karla held the now empty mug in her hand and held it above the table.

A flex of her fingers and the ceramic handle became powder under her fingers, the mug shattering as it crashed against the table. Denise rushed back over and Karla apologized and winced as the waitress gave her own apologies about the apparently defective mug.

When the waitress walked away, Karla looked back to Peggy. "I confronted Steve alone. If I wanted to kill him or even fight him, he'd be dead." Not a threat, just a statement. He might have been a super soldier, but she could lift about ten tons...not to mention fly, phase through solid objects, and take a hit from the Hulk without dying.

"No, I'm here because I care about Steve and I suspect that you do too, whether or not that's due to your design. I want to know if there is reason to be worried about you. The facility that experimented on me for two years made an espionage clone and then let you walk around freely. I just...want to be sure. That's all you can do for me, I suppose. Be sure."

Denise returned with a mug of tea, trying to argue for it being "on the house, due to the mishap." Karla shook her head repeatedly and finally accepted the mug, taking a brief sip from it.

"And I should clarify. I describe myself as a villain because it is what people lump me into. The things I've done have been no worse than I'm sure things you have done. Stolen, fought, killed if truly necessary. SHIELD does all of those things on any given Tuesday, yet I get labeled as a villain." Karla sighed. "They claim to do it for a greater good or larger purpose that never seems to show itself. I choose to be more honest about it. So, I ended up in their cell and they got to call me a villain."

She looked back to Peggy. "So then, I suppose it is my turn. Why do you think you've been created?"

The question was simple enough but Karla had to admit, she was curious to hear the answer.

***

Peggy could see that Karla was talking in circles. It was intentional. Though Peggy couldn’t clearly see her intention. Perhaps it was to make her more likely to trust her. Perhaps she was looking for empathy. Perhaps she was just trying to be blunt and honest. And perhaps she was trying to make Peggy like her. It was hard to say. It was also hard to say if any one of those things was going to be a problem for the two of them right now. After all SHIELD had its faults but it didn’t put away innocent people. She’d done something and she’d paid the price. Perhaps it was too high a price but Karla hadn’t mentioned what it was she’d done. And Peggy liked to think she could trust Steve’s judgment. Peggy watched the mug as Karla lifted it. This was clearly going to be a demonstration of some kind. After what she’d seen in the last year she expected her to have powers. Was it going to melt? Or hover where it was in the air? She hadn’t expected it to drop and shatter across the table and she jerked back quickly to avoid pieces. At first she thought it was an explosion but then she realized that the woman across from her was just very very strong. There was a little coffee on her skirt and on the plastic bench of the booth. She placed the coffee mug on the table and picked a few paper napkins to wipe up the mess. “That’s quite a gift you have.” Though the story Karla was spinning made it seem not so much a gift as it was something else. A burden? A prize? She finished wiping her hand and the handle and took another sip of her coffee. “I suppose there could be a few answers to that question. The most straightforward answer is I was born very shortly after a pre-war marriage.” Her mid-April birthday told her enough about the circumstances of her coming into the world. “And then everything I am is a result of the experiences I’ve lived and the people I’ve met along the way.” With the minor exception of having her old memories moved to a new body that was the truth. “But if you want to know about Project: Foresight, then I am the old memories moved into a new vessel.” With some very minor exceptions it worked exactly the same and she could remember everything.

***

Karla had to admit to being a bit thrown by the marriage comment until she realized that the being in front of her was answering as Peggy Carter, the original.

Interesting. Despite recognizing herself as not being the original, her inclination was still to behave like her. Discuss her birth and her creation as two separate instances with no apparent recognition of the obvious disconnect.

Family members only had one creation. People only had one birth to remember. She had two and the dissonance didn't seem particularly strong. That was certainly worth noting.

"Interesting. So, it appears that you recognize yourself to be a collection of memories from the original, yet you answered as both her and yourself." Her calm voice held no judgment, just a simple observation as she weighed the situation.

"But that doesn't really answer my question. Perhaps I should be clearer." She folded her hands on the table, leaning back against her side of the booth. The fake leather vinyl was at least plush for such a place, she'd give it that.

"Why do you think you, the clone of the original, was made? SHIELD must have invested a fortune in creating you. It stands to reason why this specific project happened. So, why do you think you were made?"

***

It wasn’t a stretch to say she was just a collection of memories. Wouldn’t that be an apt description for anyone though? People who had lost their memories were different than they were before. Even when they’d gotten their memories back. Karla should know that much. “I’m intimately familiar with the first third of her life. If memories and experiences are all that make us who we are, then it’s accurate to say that she and I are the same person. At least until 1946 when she became the Director of SHIELD.” There was a mind puzzle she’d heard years ago when she’d read Brave New World. You meet your exact duplicate. She acts like you and she thinks like you and she knows she is you. But this contradicts the information you have that says that you’re you. Of course you are. You’ve always been you. But she also thinks she’s always been you. So who’s real? When she’d first read the book Peggy had decided that only the person with the life experiences was real. Now that she was asked to walk the second path she found her answer was quite different. The tone of the conversation had decidedly changed course. Peggy no longer felt like Karla was speaking to her and now spoke through her. Straight through everything that made her who she was and was speaking about the mechanics of her being. “You want to know why this body was made?” She glanced at her hand. It was finally looking just like the old one. Callouses in all the right places from hard work and handling tools and weaponry. Old scars wouldn’t come back no matter how long she worked at it. But at times she appreciated the better use of her right arm. Yet she could clearly remember being shot in the shoulder. “The full report is in the Project: Foresight file.” Though it was tens of thousands of pages long and written by many doctors. She herself had only read the synopsis they’d given her. She’d tried to manage the whole document but it sounded like more of the same but written much more densely. “But the short answer is that I was selected because I—the other, original Peggy Carter—signed that it would be alright to use her—our—genetic material stored in the SHIELD facility to run this experiment. But I’m not sure I should discuss the reasons for Project: Foresight in a diner,” with one of SHEILD’s enemies.

***

Karla raised an eyebrow. Interesting. They were definitely treading into her territory now.

"Interesting. So by sharing memories, you believe that makes you one in the same. Yet you still refer to it as the first third of /her/ life in one breath and then discuss it as /your/ life the next. Both cannot be true, wouldn't you agree?"

She took a sip of her tea, pondering over her words for a moment before speaking. "I've realized something over the years. People who tend to get lumped into the hero category hold similar dissonance. There is the identity that they truly own and then the identity that they wish they were, or even the identity that others wished they were. Steve Rogers and Captain America, Tony Stark and Iron Man." Project: Foresight and Peggy Carter, but there was no need to state that outright.

"The fascinating thing is that the true identity and the wishful identity is not always what you would expect. And it becomes even more interesting because that confusion and dissonance can be so immersive that they are overcome." A shrug. "People cannot be happy if they can't embrace their truth."

Good. That was bound to land. Time to pull back and try a different angle in this therapist dance.

"But perhaps that is something to discuss at another time." She settled herself for a moment, letting the words hang for a moment. Okay, final question.

"I suppose the last thing I would ask you is less of a question and more of a comment." A simple smile. "You claim to have every memory from Agent Carter, but people do not have full recall of their own pasts. Certain memories stick out, but others fade away."

If they truly wanted to create an accurate copy, they would need to create synthetic fillers. And if they created synthetic fillers, it was certainly worth wondering what else they might have squeezed in between the memories.

A code word here. An activation phrase there. An alteration in their favor to her personality sprinkled throughout.

Tee up.

"They invested time and effort and technology in your creation, going beyond the limits of the original. SHIELD has been doing that with technology since the original Peggy Carter founded it, and there's no reason your creation should be different."

Aim.

"And while that alone points to you not merely being a copy, there stands another concern. If SHIELD poured so much time and money in you, making you a walking and talking investment, they are being awfully cavalier about letting you walk around freely. Every other weapon and item they've created is kept underground and out of view, yet here you are. Hell, even the Director rarely walks around in the open."

Final blow.

"So why would a top-secret, highly-controlling organization let their major investment walk around of her own free will?"

She let the words hang for a moment before simply nodding. "Well, I think that's enough for now. We'll be in touch, Miss Foresight."

And with that, she rose from her seat and deposited several dollar bills on the table before exiting. The smallest hint of a smile played at her lips as she left the restaurant. Some people enjoyed to watch the fires that they set, but Karla had grown to enjoy the warmth of it on her back.

#doctorkarlasofen #backwardsandinhighheels1945 #karla sofen #peggy carter #karla goes to diners and ruins peoples lives #cut for being a monstrous length

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a-man-outof-time · 10 years ago

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Curiosity is the Lust of the Mind // Karla and Sam

((Skype thread. Cut for length. Changes in POV marked with --- to keep those shifts clear.))

---

Ah, there he was. Her little shadow had taken a seat in the diner, just as he always did. She could see him from the corner of her eye and the reflection in the window beside her booth, casting his own glances at her now and again. She pretended to read the menu that she had long-since memorized. Her tea steamed gently in a mug on the table. She noted him order what sounded like, if her hearing (and lipreading via the window) was correct, a hamburger.

Really? A hamburger? The man was sitting in a diner, sure, but a damn good one. One with grass-fed steaks and organic who-knew-what and fair trade who-the-hell-cared and he ordered a hamburger? Of course, that actually probably made sense. This was...what, the third time she had brought them here? He probably wasn't getting much of an allowance. For a hero, Steve really could be a bit unthoughtful at times.

The waitress started to move towards Karla booth and Karla promptly, yet smoothly, rose to her feet. Making a small apologetic gesture and smile, she moved to Sam's table with her tea in hand. She could practically feel his pulse quicken as she moved over to him with a small smile on her lips. Karla took a seat across from him.

"Mind if I join you? My treat. This is the third time I've brought us here, after all. Might as well pay at least once." Her tone was perfectly casual, as if talking with a friend from work or friend-of-a-friend: not overly familiar, yet friendly enough.

The waitress came over and Karla gave her a small smile as well. "Sorry, I'm actually going to be sitting with my friend here. Hope that's okay." The waitress looked almost relieved (no doubt thankful that the two actually knew each other and that he wasn't some sort of stalker). "I'm going to go for a...hm. Let me switch to the lemon herbal tea and have the smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel meal. Breakfast for dinner never hurt anyone, right?"

Karla looked to Sam. "Want anything other than that hamburger? Or at least some bacon or avocado or something for it." The waitress looked to Sam, completely unaware of the rather odd situation Karla had created.

Karla was really enjoying messing with Steve and his friends in restaurants, apparently. In her defense, at least she was paying for this one.

---

Oh, hey. She was coming over. In a way, Sam was relieved; tailing someone who knew he was tailing her was weird, and sneaking around wasn't really his style. He also wished he could at least shoot Steve a text message to let him know that A) Karla had busted him, B) Sam had decided to keep shadowing her anyway, and C) they were apparently about to have lunch, but no such luck. He didn't think she was going to start anything destructive -- if that was her MO, she would have obliterated him in the park -- so what really put him on edge was that he couldn't read her actual MO. Not yet, anyway.

He sat back as she took the seat across from him and flashed her a smile. "Not at all."

He watched Karla as she ordered, then turned his attention to the waitress.

"Well, hey, if it's on her, dress that burger up. Maybe throw a fried organic cage-free egg on it, too. And let's make that water one of those large fruit-and-wheatgrass smoothie things -- the one I had last time."

The waitress smiled through her confusion, made a note on her pad, and departed for their drinks, allowing Sam to return his focus to Karla. His smile faded.

"Gettin' tired of me yet?"

---

Karla smiled as he ordered. Good, he was taking advantage. Steve would have just stared at her coldly and said something through gritted teeth like "No thank you, ma'am, I'm fine." He was the equivalent of the child who refused to play the game because he didn't get to pick it. Sam was actually going to be fun and play along.

She had figured as much from their time in the park, but validation was always nice.

When the waitress departed and Sam refocused on her, Karla noted his smile fade as he spoke. Okay, so he was only somewhat going to play along. No doubt he still didn't trust her. After all, the mighty American Hero had told him to tail Karla. It would take more than just not obliterating him to make him ease up around her. Fair.

"I always pay for meals when trying to drive away company. Next, I'll buy you a car. Then you'll really get the message." She sipped her tea. "No, I just figured that if you're going to keep tailing me to the same place - and I think we both rather like this one - I might as well actually join you."

The waitress arrived with her fresh cup of lemon tea and Sam's smoothie before departing again. Karla continued. "And, if I'm going to be joining you, it will give us a nice chance to chat again. Last time I did this, it was with Steve and we played a little game to break the ice. He'd ask a question and I'd have to answer truthfully, then I would get to ask a question, and back and forth. So, let's do that."

The blonde woman took a sip of her first mug of tea again, a faint scent of berries in the air. When she set it down, she looked him squarely in the eyes with her own blue orbs. "You can even go first."

---

He smiled at the quip about the car. Touche.

"Yeah? Don't really need one in DC, but if you're offering, I've always wanted a convertible."

He took a few drags off his smoothie as Karla spoke, watching her over the rim of the glass. They set their beverages down in unison and locked eyes, and then Sam shrugged, then nodded.

"Aight."

No wonder Steve had been so strung out when he'd called. Sam didn't have to put Steve on the couch to know he not only didn't play mind games but probably couldn't if his life depended on it. Sam wouldn't call himself a psychological mastermind by any stretch, but he at least knew how to be patient and wait for a breakthrough -- or, at least, to wait out a crisis.

Karla, of course, wasn't a veteran with PTSD or a drug problem. She'd said herself that she was a clinical psychiatrist, which was the absolute last profession Sam would ever expect an apparent supervillian to take on. Even if he wasn't going to reach any kind of ah-ha moment, he wouldn't deny it if she asked: he was curious about who she was.

"Ordinarily I'd insist on ladies first, but I'll go ahead and ask -- how'd a psychiatrist turn into a..." -- he quirked an eyebrow, clearly hamming up a false uncertainty as to how to address her -- "...supervillian?"

---

Karla raised an eyebrow at the label. Supervillain. Sure, it was what everyone had called her and it was what fit most with her...activities, but she wasn't one for labels. Labels were confining. Supervillains normally meant "trying to rule the world" or "wanting to kill off the rainforest" or some other massive and generally idiotic goal.

"Supervillain is...well, I suppose accurate. I prefer 'independent' or just 'criminal,' though. When I was little, I decided I never wanted to be dependent on anyone. I became a clinical psychologist, a female medical professional in a field overrun by men, and thought I had accomplished my goal."

Karla shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "But I then realized I was dependent on my patients. I had to convince them to come to me. On top of it all, I was dependent on health insurance companies to cover the bills. I was anything but free, and I was in a field where I was looked down upon for being a woman, so I wasn't even respected."

Nothing she was saying was false. Of course, she was leaving out the bit about how this discovery had led first to her manipulating her patients into needing her. But not all of the details were required. Plus, it was obvious Sam was fishing. He didn't need the full catch right off the bat.

"I realized that the rules of society demanded that I always depend on someone else. So, I decided to break them. I used my skills to apprentice under Dr. Faustus, then ditched him and proceeded to ignore rules that would hold me back. I got labeled as a 'criminal,' just like anyone else who breaks rules, and then 'supervillain' because I caused enough trouble. Still in a field filled with predominantly men but at least I'm not depending on anyone or being held back." She paused before offhandedly adding, "Well, except SHIELD, but that goes without saying."

The psychologist eyed him for a moment to gauge his reaction before speaking herself. "Now, my turn. What did Steve tell you about me and what do you think?" Feigned bluntness seemed like the best course of action. He was used to patients that dodged answers or avoided eye contact, so it would be interesting to see how he did.

---

Wow. When she said she was going to be honest, she was serious; he'd expected something a little more literal, -- maybe "I got hit by a Whammo Ray" or "radioactive hummingbird" -- and not much more. As such, Sam found himself leaning onto the table, one hand draped across the other wrist in a loose, off-the-clock interpretation of folding his hands. When she finished and volleyed a question back, he nodded slowly.

"I think you became a supervillian when you learned how to fly and walk through walls." He sat back in his seat and tossed an arm over the back of his chair. His turn to talk, and damn, did she get to the point quick.

"He told me that you could fuck me up real bad if you wanted, that you escaped from a high-security facility, and that you seem to think he needs to do some soul-searching. I think you're yanking his chain, though I can't say I know you well enough to figure out why."

He paused. As long as they were at the heart of the matter, he may as well stay there. He didn't expect a smile to charm her, but he smiled anyway, if for no other reason than for appearances.

"So...why Steve?"

---

"Actually, not to be picky, but I took my powers so I could be better at what I wanted to do. Breaking the rules is difficult when you don't have an edge, same as enforcing them."

Of course, no need to get into detail about how she ripped them from a mental client's chest. He had been a villain and a headcase and she had wanted to be something more. It had been an easy enough decision.

As for his interpretation, that seemed pretty accurate. Of course he thought she was messing with Steve. In a way, she somewhat was. She wasn't "yanking his chain," sure, but she was leading him down a different mental path all the same.

Sam's question was interesting though. Why Steve.

"Sorry, you'll have to be more specific. If you mean why I spoke with him upon breaking out, or why I didn't slam his face into a wall, I can answer that easily enough. The same thing I told him."

She paused for a moment. "Though, I suppose he might have not told you everything, so I'll recap.

Steve was one of the people responsible for locking me up. But he wants to stand for truth and justice and the American concepts, all while helping SHIELD do things that fly in the face of that. I was held without trial, put into a scientific facility, and was tortured or experimented on daily.

He knew something was off, considering how many 'villains' or criminals or what have you were put away by him that never had a trial he was called to, but he had not bothered to face it."

Another sip of tea, some quiet. She let it stew for a moment.

"I wanted to see him face the truth and face what SHIELD has become. The government turned him into a false idol for people to believe in, to ensure them that everything was just fine no matter what happened behind the curtain. I wanted to make sure he recognized the truth. And he did."

She chuckled.

"Of course, he promptly turned around and had you tail me, so I'll take it all with a grain of salt for now. He's a stubborn man. I've been painted a 'bad guy' for so long that he has a hard time thinking I could be doing anything but lying, even though he knows everything I've said has been true."

Suddenly, the food was there. Her little monologues, compared to his brief answers, had apparently killed a decent chunk of time. Karla gave the waitress a smile, politely declined any condiments, and proceeded to handle her meal.

First, the cream cheese. She took her butter knife carefully, applying the cream cheese in concise strokes. An almost picturesque swipe across the surface.

"Please, by the way, feel free to comment on my answers if you want. This is a conversation, even with the game. Burger looks good, by the way. Bacon and egg and avocado should be an interesting move. Breakfasty." Karla smiled, gesturing to her own breakfast meal.

"Now, Sam, what have you learned about me? Between the tailing and our conversation. I'm very interested in your interpretations." Sure, he was a social worker, but Steve had picked him. Surely he had some interesting thoughts on her.

“That pretty much answers it, I think. He didn't tell me quite that much."

Steve really hadn't even told Sam much about SHIELD beyond the basics, but it had been clear to Sam from day one that Steve wasn't happy working for them. Sam himself had stayed uninvolved, opting instead to keep his job at the VA in DC, but he realized as Karla laid it all out that he wasn't surprised. Bureaucracy sucked -- it was shady and apathetic and toxic -- and he didn't need to work for a super-secret spy agency to know that. He'd served his time and learned his lesson.

The waitress appeared then, and Sam thanked her warmly, sitting up to spread his napkin across his knee. He took a bite out of a few fries right as Karla spoke, then nodded until he was able to swallow.

"Sure does. Almost as good as your frou-frou fish bagel." He let his lips quirk upward as he gather up his burger -- or half of it, anyway, since these fancy places liked to cut them up, apparently.

"But -- yeah, you know, he's a pretty black-and-white guy. If it helps, he didn't so much ask me to tail you so much as just...keep an eye on you. He probably would have been better off sending someone else, but since they're all off doing superhero things, I just happened to be the best he had."

Eh, okay, so the self-deprecation wasn't entirely authentic, but he wasn't lying, either. If Steve had wanted someone to pick Karla's brain, he'd had asked Natasha; if he'd wanted someone to forcibly drag her back into custody, he'd have sent the thunder god guy. As far as Sam could tell, Steve had just wanted someone to make sure Karla stayed out of trouble...

"But for what's it's worth -- what I've learned about you is that you definitely have an agenda. I've also learned you have a moral code, though probably one that's not crystal clear enough for Steve to be comfortable with you. You and I and everyone in this country knows Steve's all about, I dunno -- 'philosophical truth,' I guess. You strike me as being more about 'objective truth,' which you and I also know can be dirty and dark and nasty. So I'm not surprised he doesn't trust you, but between you and me, I don't doubt that he's been mulling over everything you'd said to him. I also don't doubt that he's going to put all of that shit about SHIELD squarely on his own shoulders and do something about it."

He went to take a bite of his burger, then paused as his next question occurred to him.

"When he does act on it, you gonna be there?"

---

Frou frou bagel? Please. His all-American burger was grass-fed and organic, covered in organic and locally grown toppings. His burger was just as fancy as her bagel. She just had the decency to embrace liking the finer things in life.

She carefully laid the pieces of her wild-caught smoked Coho salmon over the bagel, smirking slightly at his words. Of course she had an agenda, but it was nice to hear someone not just assume she was a liar. "Objective truth." Had a nice ring to it.

"That's interesting, that he picked you. I mean, not to be insulting, but if he really thought I was going to cause trouble...what would he think you would do? I could break him with my pinkie, and I doubt you'd fare much better." Delicate slices of orange-pink flesh were carefully folded across the thick white spread. "I'm almost flattered that he would want to spy on me, either way."

Sam mentioned how Steve would do something about it. Just as Karla expected as well, but no point in bringing that up.

His question, however, was interesting. It wasn't asking if she was going to make him do something, at least not directly. It put the focus on her presence instead of on Steve.

"He told me that if I made any moves against them, he would stop me. I told him I would do what I needed to do. If he does choose to move, well," Karla began to scatter capers across the surface of her bagel, "I would be lying if I said I'd avoid being at his side. Not a bad place to be."

She raised one half of the bagel to her mouth, taking a testing bite. Perfection. Just as she had expected.

"What about you? You obviously are willing to be at Steve's side, but would you be willing to also be at mine in that situation?"

---

He took a bite of his burger and allowed himself the luxury of savoring it while she talked, then swallowed with a smirk of his own.

"I heard a couple questions in there, assuming that first one isn't rhetorical. I sure as hell can't match you one-on-one, but I'm not Steve -- I don't have the guts to make miracles happen by sheer force of will. If you'd made trouble, I'd have found a way to deal with it."

The more he thought about it, though, the less sure he was that Steve had suspected Karla would overtly act out in his absence. Karla had apparently given him a hell of a shakedown, and as stubborn as Steve was, he knew the truth when he saw it; if he hadn't seen what Karla had wanted him to see, he would have done everything in his power to bring her back in right then. Steve probably wouldn't own up to it even now, but Sam was starting to think he wasn't supposed to be keeping tabs on Karla so much as providing Steve with a second opinion when he got back (as a formality, of course, considering Steve had probably made up his mind about SHIELD as soon as he'd left his dinner with Karla).

He took another swig of his smoothie and biteful of fries as he considered her question. It hadn't occurred to him that Steve would ask Sam to help him with whatever stunt his conversation with Karla inspired him to pull -- he wasn't an Avenger, nor was he involved with SHIELD. But Karla wasn't wrong; if Steve asked, Sam would be there in a heartbeat.

"If Steve wanted you by his side, then yeah, sure. Don't get me wrong -- I kind of get you, but I don't trust you. I trust him, though."

Sam took another bite of his hamburger, affording them both a brief moment of silence as they ate. When Sam had agreed to this gig, he hadn't expected to sit down and have a conversation, much less lunch, with this woman -- but now that he had, there was a lot to process. Maybe he was giving her too much benefit of the doubt, but as it stood, he believed everything she'd told him, and if Steve ended up acting on the things Karla had opened his eyes to, that would put Steve and Karla on the same side of whatever line in the sand separated them now.

Steve was not going to like Sam's debriefing, Sam could already tell.

"So -- we got plans after lunch?"

---

He "got" her. Huh. Karla wasn't sure if that was his social worker side talking or if he truly meant it. Funnily enough, she was pretty sure he actually did get her whether he actually believed it or not. It was funny. Steve had sent someone to watch her that seemed to be more open to what she had to say than he was. Or, at least, he was pretty good at faking it.

She took another bite of her bagel and a sip of her lemon tea. A perfect complimentary choice. God, she had missed such options. Captivity in Project PEGASUS had not exactly come with a lot of food choices.

Did they have plans? Interesting.

"Hm. Hadn't really considered it." Another bite of bagel, another sip of tea. "Probably back to my place for the night, the one on the Upper East Side. I should still be in that penthouse for another month or so." She took another bite of the bagel.

"To be honest, I like Rogers. I told him as much. Sure, he's gotten in my way and whatnot, but I see a great deal in him."

Another sip. A small frown.

"I'm more worried about what SHIELD might try to pull on him. Ten dollars says he'll end up with a sudden girlfriend or long-lost relative or something that will magically come out of left field any day now. Suddenly, he'll feel worried about them or his ties with SHIELD and he'll try to ignore it all again."

It was really more of an offhand comment that anything else, but Karla honestly did expect that SHIELD would try to pull something. They wanted Steve squarely under their thumb for obvious reasons. Sam would probably be the best candidate to identify those points, given how close he seemed to be with Steve. The information stream worked both ways, after all, and Lord knew she had shared plenty.

---

"Ah. Well, I guess I better make the most of our lunch, then."

He polished off the first half of the burger and wiped his hands, then downed half his smoothie to hide his reaction to "I like Rogers." He'd picked up that she'd singled him out for some reason, but he hadn't given her so much credit that he would have thought any kind of affection would be in play. Tactically, eeking her way in to Steve's good side would make sense -- he was affiliated with SHIELD and the Avengers, as well as a respected public figure -- but to hear her say she was worried about him? That was a little much.

But now the seed was planted. It hadn't been that long ago that Steve had mentioned seeing someone, though it had taken some careful prodding on Sam's part to get Steve to confess the kicker: she was a clone of his wartime sweetheart, created decades ago and kept on ice until recently. Sam had actually laughed, it had sounded so ludicrous, but he'd quickly sobered up when Steve had gone on to confide his concerns about SHIELD. Steve had approached it as strictly business -- who else could they be cloning and what other genetic projects might they have and why would an intelligence agency be dabbling in this stuff at all -- but now that Karla mentioned it, there was surely more than that on Steve's mind, and Sam had been so caught up in the overall picture that he'd completely overlooked the personal implications for Steve.

He'd be damned if he told Karla that, though. Up to this point he'd taken her sincerety at face value, but now he couldn't help but suspect that she might be fishing. Whatever points she may have already made about SHIELD notwithstanding, Sam wasn't keen on giving her more ammo to nail Steve with, either. He'd have to tread carefully not to give himself away, though, and now the doubts were creeping back; she was a psychologist, and even Steve was only human. Was he manipulating Steve? Manipulating him?

"Yeeeah. Wouldn't put it past SHIELD, but -- even if they did pull something like that, he'd keep his perspective. If he thinks you're right, then he thinks you're right."

For the first time since they'd started talking, he glanced away from the table -- not at his meal, but clear across the room at nothing in particular, and as soon as he did he knew he'd just displayed a tell. He wasn't lying, exactly -- at least not by fabrication, though maybe by omission, assuming Karla expected him to confirm her so-called concerns -- but he clearly knew something she didn't and was unnerved that she'd hit on it, whether intentionally or by coincidence. He quickly returned his gaze to the other half of his burger and took it in hand, then looked back up to her in a swift attempt to recover.

"All right, my turn. You said you'll do what you need to regardless of whatever Steve does about SHIELD. If he doesn't make his move, then what's yours?

---

His pointed gulping of the shake looked like he was actively hiding a reaction. After all, he had reached for that cup like it was a weapon in a fire fight. So, he had feelings about her stating she liked Steve. What, like she wasn't human? She wasn't allowed to like people, just dislike?

Once people pulled out the "hero" and "villain" labels, they got so small-minded. Hell, she didn't want to conquer the world and she didn't hate all living things. And it wasn't like she said she had romantic inclinations towards the guy or wanted to wear his skin or something. She just liked him.

Of course, then Sam made his comment and looked away from the table. It took all of Karla's self control to reach across the table and grab him by the collar of his shirt, perhaps threatening to throw him through the ceiling if he didn't cough up what he knew. Anything else Karla had said and Sam had made that look, she might have had an easier time brushing it off. But to make that look at the idea that SHIELD was manipulating Steve, an individual she had already put quite a bit of time into? Thin fucking ice.

But instead she stayed perfectly poised, merely raising an eyebrow at the reaction and maintaining a look of suspicion as he asked his question. "If he doesn't make his move, then it will fall to me to take down SHIELD myself. I'm sure I can find others who will look where Rogers will not, others who will be willing to take action. I hope it won't come to that, though." The idea of having to fight Rogers was a bit...offputting now.

Karla tried to not think about it much, but it was true. She told herself it was because she had put so much time into Rogers and that, with his help, the plan would be much easier to execute. But there was a small gnawing voice inside her that whispered, tauntingly, that there was something else at play. Something she had no wish to explore anytime soon.

"You reacted when I made my comment about SHIELD probably sending someone to manipulate Steve. I have been completely honest and quite courteous with you our past few days, not to mention tonight. So, in good faith, I'm going to give you a chance to come clean on your own."

She took another bite of her bagel, though the casual taste seemed flat on her palate.

"I'm not going to ask you directly about it, though. I'll leave that ball in your court. Instead, I'll ask this: if he doesn't make a move against SHIELD, would you? Knowing what they are doing, torturing people and potentially turning people in weapons and everything else...would you make a move against them, even if Steve did not?"

She personally wouldn't have. Without powers, it seemed ridiculous to try to face off against an intensely powerful and secret organization. But this was a question for him, the man who claimed to "get" her. And she was legitimately curious to hear his answer.

Plus, the focus on that was keeping her far calmer than focusing on what he hadn't told her. A sip of tea to temporarily steady her already practiced-calm nerves

---

So...her agenda was to take down SHIELD, but righteously so?

Wait. Shit. Hold up. Was she threatening him?

He eyebrows quirked upward as he considered asking what would happen if he blew his chance, but he then thought better of it and mirrored her instead, eating a few more fries as she took another bite of her bagel. He'd clearly been caught, and he was in no position to either bluff his way out of it or deny her what she wanted to hear. Thankfully, she kept talking, and he kept right on eating as though he wasn't dangerously close to pissing off someone who could turn him inside out without blinking twice, then shook his head at her question.

"Oh, hell, no. If Steve didn't move, it'd be for a damn good reason, but if SHIELD's doing all that" -- Sam huffed a small, almost defeated sigh -- "he'll move. I think we both know that. We're just waiting on when."

He decided to push his luck and finish off his burger before speaking (she had said the ball was in his court), then wiped his hands before balling the napkin up in his fist.

"All right, well -- look. Someone may have just popped up out of Steve's past recently, but..." Sam paused and slowly shook his head.

"Using someone to keep Steve on a leash like that? That's cruel, man. And stupid. If Steve ever confirms that that was SHIELD's intent, he'd tear through 'em with or without us. So, you know, I'm not saying that's what's happening, but" -- Sam sighed again, more deeply this time, and then held up a hand with his thumb and forefinger indicating about an inch of space between them -- "maybe there's a little something to worry about."

Jesus. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the back of his hand against his brow. That was something he'd definitely had to talk to Steve about -- not just that Peggy might be a pawn, but that Karla suspected as much and now knew about her. Sam could already hear Steve's teeth grinding away...

"Listen, though." Sam dropped his napkin onto his plate and leaned forward again, hands pressed palms-down against the tabletop. "This woman means everything to him. I know he'll make the right call, but if that means losing her..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. He was certain to his core that Steve would make the call for the greater good, even if he had to lose Peggy again, but Sam wasn't sure he could let Steve do that to himself. Or, if the choice came down to her or everyone else, what if Steve did chose her? Could Sam let him do that?

"I don't think she's here to manipulate Steve. Maybe that's SHIELD's intent, I don't know, but it's not hers."

He left the underlying plea unspoken -- please don't turn him against her -- but refrained from asking a diversionary question this time. He needed her response to this, as much as he'd needed everything else he'd told her. If this was going to get personal, then he was going to have to decide real quick how much more ground he was willing to give her.

---

So, he had made the right move. Good. But then he gave his pieces of information and it was a woman.

A woman. Who meant everything to Steve. Anger stirred quietly in the bottom of her mind, but she kept herself fairly calm. Well, relatively. She allowed herself to show some slight irritation as she set down her mug firmly.

She gave herself a moment, processing what Sam said. Finally, she spoke. "He's going to do it again. He's going to convince himself that her intentions are good, that SHIELD does not intend to use her to manipulate him, whatever he has to in order to ignore the facts. And I don't know how to get it through anyone's thick skulls." Her words were still calm, but the angry edge was clear.

"Intentions are only part of the equation, and they're not even the most important part. Actions are what matters. Facts. Objective truths. If SHIELD sent her in there to help cement Steve, it doesn't matter if she intends to manipulate him or not. Her entire purpose in existing in that space is to cement him into whatever position they can get him into." She was trying very, very hard to not shatter or crush anything in her vicinity, instead keeping her hands in her lap.

"All SHIELD needs is something, anything to make Steve second-guess turning against them. Whether the person flat-out tells him to not do it or he becomes too worried about what will happen to her, her very presence could be enough to get SHIELD what they want. Maybe she has no idea that SHIELD sent her there or maybe she's a spy sent to manipulate him, it doesn't matter. They handed him a weakness at best, a bomb at worst, and you want to pretend that's fine because maybe she doesn't mean it?"

God, she wanted to shake Steve like a fucking rag doll. How could he be such an idiot? What the hell was going on with this girl that he would just ignore the obvious potential problems?

"Her intentions do not mean shit if the outcome is the same either way, Mr. Wilson. If he ends up injured, dead, or just plain under SHIELD's thumb, the outcome remains that they win and he either ends up hating himself or incinerated after they've dissected him for any information they can gather."

She looked to Sam suddenly, eyes narrowing. That was it. Sam did think like her, at least somewhat. He saw the objective facts, the truths. Yet his hesitation regarding the girl, as if he was hiding something. Was she a SHIELD agent or something else increasingly obvious as a threat and he was worried Karla might snap? Or maybe it was someone he knew and he was trying to protect her, thinking that Karla might eliminate any threats on her own?

"There's something about her. Some reason that you don't want to believe she's been planted but you also can't ignore." She sighed, frustration clear. "Seriously, what is it? She's just too pretty to be a trick? Makes him too happy to be a ruse?"

God, was she really still surrounded by romantic, soft-hearted idiots? Too infatuated with the idea of a good love story to notice the giant, flashing red warning signs?

---

He straightened his back as her mug thudded to the table, more to give her space than because he was concerned or intimidated. He'd told her what she'd wanted to know, so she clearly wasn't pissed with him, but at the SHIELD-Steve situation. A moment of silence passed in which he watched her; either she was a gifted actress, or her concerns, now concerned, were genuine.

Sam suspected the latter.

"I'm not pretending anything. I didn't say she couldn't have been planted, just that, if she was, she doesn't know it either. It'd be a helluva smooth ploy on SHIELD's part, though, considering when I say she's from his past, I mean from his past." He emphasized each of those last three words with a small nod. "Is she a weakness? Most definitely. But that doesn't make her inherently dangerous."

Sam flipped his hands over, palms up and open to her. "People have weaknessess; Steve's a person; therefore, he's gonna have weaknesses. That's logic one-oh-one. But he's built his life on always overcoming those weaknesses, and we made him a legend for it. He'll do it again, no doubt. SHIELD, though -- if SHIELD chose to defrost this woman because they're concerned about losing Steve...well, then that's a problem. SHIELD's gotta be held accountable for that, not her, not if she's just as much as a pawn as he might be.

"My bottom line is -- he'll make the hard choices, but unless he's convinced she's dangerous, he's not going to turn against her. And you're a psychologist, you gotta understand what it'd mean to a guy who'd lost everything to get parts of his previous life back. It may not be healthy, but you know, arguably neither is running around in Kevlar jumpsuits fighting other people in Kevlar jumpsuits. I know you're going to do whatever you think you need to get this job done, but I'll ask anyway -- please, for the love of God, don't try to use her against him. You have a point, you really do, but he's not going to concede it to you, not when it comes to her."

---

Off ice. That was literal. He was being literal.

Unless SHIELD had, in fact, perfected their ability to cryogenically freeze people in Steve's time (and that seemed terribly unlikely considering they were still pretty shitty with it even now), that meant she was something else. And if she wasn't a frozen original, then she was...

No.

No. Even Steve wasn't that foolish, was he?

Oh, of course he was.

"She's a clone? You're defending his relationship to a copy of a person from his former life? SHIELD cloned someone from his past, reintroduced her to the world just in time to meet Steve, and that didn't ring any alarms?"

Okay, now she was definitely pissed. Who the hell could they have possibly had an excuse to freeze? Not like they could just drop those sorts of resources on cloning his favorite waitress without some sort of excuse. No, it would have to be someone they could at least try to argue was done without consideration of Steve. Someone they would have happened to clone anyway.

And then it hit her square in the chest and she resisted the urge to flip the goddamn table.

"They cloned Agent Carter, didn't they? One of the creators of SHIELD. They built themselves their own brand new fucking Agent Peggy Carter once the old one wasn't useful anymore. I bet they even programmed her so that she's just like the old one." She didn't bother to read Sam's reaction at the last bit. She was frankly too annoyed to care about whatever tells he might show. Karla was right and she knew it.

"He is dating a super spy clone that was programmed by SHIELD for their own personal uses, a clone of a woman he just so happened to have a pretty well-documented thing for." She gave a bitter chuckle.

"Of course he is. Now he can pretend he never left, that he was never frozen, and like it is still the good old days. He's choosing to pretend like everything is fine because the alternative would be recognizing that she's gone and he's dating a tool that SHIELD made because they can't be bothered to just let useful people go.

And if he's embracing that delusion, it will be that much harder for him to focus on his modern problems. If he faces everything SHIELD is doing, that means looking behind the clone-making curtain and potentially ruining his new deluded romance."

The government wouldn't even let Agent Carter go without making themselves a new one to play with, so how could Steve then think about them letting him go? No, he was dating a tool and realized his options were between either recognizing that they were both simply assets to be utilized or neutralized by SHIELD or pretend that they were just normal folks going on dates and having malts.

She took in a breath, easing the tension from her voice carefully. When she spoke again, the angry edge was dulled to the practiced tones of a practitioner.

"With all due respect, Mr. Wilson, to say that I might 'use' her against him seems like a pretty ridiculous concern. SHIELD has him romancing their own espionage tool and you're worried about how I might make him feel about it? " The last words were punctuated with an eyebrow raise and head shake.

"He doesn't have to concede it to me," though she would be lying if she said she wouldn't enjoy seeing him do it, "but that doesn't make it less true or her less dangerous. And if you're willing to risk both his safety and his mental health to let him embrace some sort of guilt-easing delusion...well, then I'm not sure we have much more to talk about."

She told herself that her anger was because Steve was her asset now, that she had invested too much time to allow SHIELD to toy with and potentially break him. Those sentiments rang just a pitch too hollow, even to her. But whatever other reason she could have for being concerned about Steve and whatever other reason she had to be outraged at his dating life were hardly something she could allow herself to focus on now. The most obvious, and ridiculous, option was that she had some sort of...romantic inclination towards Steve, and romance was the worst form of dependency.

Karla rose from the table, calmly yet slightly coldly placing a fifty dollar bill on the table and gesturing to the waitress. "A box for the rest of my meal, please."

If Sam couldn't concede that he was putting Steve in danger, then she needed a moment to regroup and figure out how to best approach this new situation. Suddenly his company seemed like the last thing she wanted.

---

He slid his hands off the table and resumed his earlier position: one arm thrown over the back of the chair, one ankle propped on his knee. Given how level their conversation had been so far, he hadn't expected this, of everything he'd said and asked, to be what riled her up.

And rile her up it did. He's brow furrowed slightly at her barrage of accusatory questions, but he didn't respond to them. He barely had time to before she was off again, her frustration rising until she paused to take a levelling breath. And that, Sam found interesting.

She genuinely, honest-to-God cared about Steve. A lot. And Sam had been willing to contribute her investment to whatever role he played in her big plan -- up until she expressed indignation for Sam's suggestion that she might turn Steve against Peggy in one breath, then accused Sam of risking Steve's safety in the next. He watched her rise form the table but remained seated himself; he'd had no intention of following her home earlier, and he sure as shit wasn't going to bother now.

"You sure care an awful lot about Steve's well-being considering you could take SHIELD out without him -- and, you know, considering I don't think you're being perfectly transparent with him about your intentions, either. But look, if it in any way puts your mind as ease, you're not really giving him enough credit here. He knows she's a clone, he knows it's not 1944 anymore, and he knows SHIELD is a problem. And technically, he's a SHIELD science project, too, but we can all agree he doesn't belong to SHIELD. Neither does she. As soon as they cut her loose, she became her own entity, although -- I guess there's more philosophical subjectivity involved there than either of us is used to dealing with."

He raised his hands, palms out to her in a gesture of supplication. "I'm not saying it isn't weird. It's definitely weird. And SHIELD's intentions are definitely a concern. But Steve's a big boy, aight? It doesn't matter what you or I or God himself tells him; when Steve's convicted, he's convicted. You caught him when he wasn't sure about SHIELD, and now he's sure. And he's already sure about Peggy."

That, for the first and only time since he and Karla started speaking, was a bold-faced lie, but Sam didn't have a single qualm about telling it. If Karla thought Sam would ever let Steve set himself up for disaster -- whether at SHIELD's hands, Peggy's, or Karla's -- she had another think coming. The fact of the matter was, Karla was just as dangerous to Steve as Peggy, if only because Steve, just like anyone else, had a breaking point; and after this outburst, Sam couldn't be sure that, if Steve lashed out at Karla, that she wouldn't lash back. As far as Sam was concerned as of right then, if Peggy was poison, then Karla was a loaded gun with a faulty safety, but to say so outloud would almost certainly be interpreted -- and rightly so -- as a veiled threat. Sam may not be able to shoot lasers from his eyes or tear a car in half or whatever, but that didn't mean he would try his damnedest to keep Steve save.

"But hey. Thanks for lunch. I'm sure we'll see each other around."

...yeah. Fat chance. Orders or no orders, he should probably rethink continuing to tail her until he could get in touch with Steve. He smiled at the waitress when she returned with a box for Karla, grabbing the last of his fries before letting her take his plate, and then offered Karla a somewhat sharper smile all her own.

---

He was calm and she was fiery. It was not a situation Karla frequently found herself in, to be perfectly honest. She was always the composed one, smiling innocently as the city burned around her. And yet here she was, angry edge in her tone and obvious concern in her words while this Sam Wilson spoke oh-so-casually about Steve dating a programmed spy clone.

Hell, Karla had seen was SHIELD was willing to do. Psychological programming and hypnosis would be child's play. She'd bet her latest penthouse that at the drop of a single government-selected trigger word, the clone would end up some compliant killing machine. But heaven forbid anyone keep Steve away from the copy of his old girlfriend, because that would just be crazy talk.

He commented on seeing her around and she looked to him for a moment before sighing. "I lost my composure-" though frankly that had only really resulted in an angry note to her voice and not throwing him through a wall so kudos to her there "and I apologize. Given that I was held in captivity for nearly a year, experimented and tortured on by the same government entity that has now conveniently made itself a clone, you can imagine why that might...strike a cord."

She twitched her nose slightly in disgust at the last line, as if "clone" were synonymous with "dirty bomb," and then boxed her food up neatly.

"But you are right. Rogers is a stubborn man. I see objective truths and he sees potential and philosophy." She saw a being created and programmed on a cellular level by a corrupt entity, he saw a girlfriend.

"If you choose to continue to tail me, I will not stop you. This unpleasant conversation aside, I do not mind your distant company." He was someone who, while being an idiot about this clone, seemed to care for Steve. And anyone who was close with Steve was, at the very least, useful. What better place to have him than nearby?

Plus, Steve would be angry if she hurt his little friend and would probably take it as some higher sign that she was evil incarnate. Programmed spy clone from a corrupt government wouldn't be a problem, sure, but Karla would end up labeled as a monster.

"And I'm flattered that you think I could handle SHIELD alone. I think that might earn you another smoothie sometime." She gave a small half smile as she slid her box carefully into her bag.

"Good night then, Sam Wilson."

And with that, she turned calmly and headed out the door, pulling the hood of her designer coat smoothly over her head as the cold night air hit her face.

#Curiosity is the Lust of the Mind #doctorkarlasofen #Sam Wilson #Skype thread #PARTNERS IN JUSTICE #// so I guess ghostwriting Sam on Skype/Chatzy/etc. is a thing I'm doing now #I'M GREEDY OKAY #I NEED SAM #STEVE NEEDS SAM #WE ALL NEED SAM

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fuckyeahsuitsusa · 10 years ago

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((Hey, I can't seem to get the reblog/follow/like buttons to come up on your theme in either Chrome or Firefox. Wasn't sure if there was something I could do on my end or if it is an issue with your theme.))

Hmmm... it shows up for me. Anyone else having these problems? I was thinking of changing themes soon for the new year. So stayed tuned for that! But thanks for bringing this to my attention!

#ask #doctorkarlasofen

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thefuturistknows · 9 years ago

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Turpentine Cyanide | Valentine’s Day 2016

I want to wash out my head with turpentine cyanide, I dislike this internal diatribe when I try to catch your eye, I hate seeing you crying in the kitchen, I don't know why it makes me like this when you're not even mine to consider, erroneous, harmonious, I'm hardly sanctimonious, dirty clothes, I suppose we all outgrow ourselves, I'm a fake, I'm a phony, I'm awake, I'm alone, I'm homely, I'm a Scorpio. Put me on a pedestal and I’ll only disappoint you

(Part 1)

One of the harder things to accept was how it only ever took one moment – one specific word in someone’s well-meaning sentence, one stray glance at the wrong time, one step toward the wrong place, so many one things that were impossible to control – one single moment. And in that moment, it didn’t matter how good his day had been so far, it didn’t matter if he was in public, it didn’t matter if he was accompanied by people he loved, it didn’t matter how certain he felt, it didn’t matter how structured his plans were, it didn’t matter how many fucking therapeutic worksheets he’d filled in or how many SMART goals he’d set or how many hours he’d spent talking about it, it didn’t matter what he did – it only took one moment. Snapping of the fingers, blink of an eye, and suddenly his will and his mind were only barely his anymore.

That day, it happened while he’d been walking to a restaurant with Pepper, carrying four bags from Babies R Us in one hand, and that hand was hurting, but he needed the other one for the purposes of effusive gesturing to accompany his speech.

“Look, if there’s a world record for cramming the highest number of unintelligible words into a single minute, then that little girl got it –”

They walked past a magazine stand. Tony’s eyes were drawn to a specific cover. The 25 Best NYC Wine Spots for Valentine’s Day.

He didn’t make much of it. He kept walking.

“It was absolutely fascinating, actually. I didn’t even have to say anything, she was the one who answered every single question she asked me –”

Hot Dog street cart. Didn’t sell alcoholic beverages.

“I’m entirely convinced that’s some early display of pure genius.”

Couple of chatty teenagers bumped into him, one of them quickly apologized before heading off.

(Teenagers drink during parties, sometimes, even if they shouldn’t. God knew Tony used to.)

“Anyway, if not, then it was still – a lot of energy, she bounced around so much –”

Restaurant window. Four people drinking red wine, two champagne.

Pepper stopped at the door, holding on to his arm so he’d do the same.

“This is where you made our reservations.”

Indeed. And after walking past their window, it occurred to Tony that he’d be offered a wine list.

He followed Pepper inside. His nails were digging into the palm of the hand holding the bags, he shoved the other hand in his pocket.

Pepper was giving his name to the hostess. There was a couple waiting to his diagonal, the woman was going over the menu. He couldn’t even read it from this far, but he assumed there was a cocktail section.

There were several bumper-sticker type catchphrases people used in those AA meetings.

Think, think, think! was one of them.

It was about recognizing patterns, not allowing oneself to be taken in by the seemingly inexorable inertia of a craving as it creeped in – if he started thinking in terms of alcohol, it meant he was close to landing on a problem.

“Tony,” Pepper called. “Are you awake? Let’s go.”

Only then did he tear his eyes off the menu he was trying to read over the woman’s shoulders.

Think. Think. Think.

“I’m, uh –” He bumped his back against the door when he stepped back. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

“Tony?”

“You can take our seats.”

The hostess was looking. He placed the bags carefully on the floor, and lifted a shaky index finger just as Pepper was about to ask something else.

“One minute. Sorry.”

He headed out of the restaurant, and promptly started walking down the street away from it. He heard Pepper calling out behind him.

“It’s just a walk around the block,” he said over his shoulders, and then kept going without looking back.

Tony had to bump against one person before he accepted the fact that walking with his eyes squeezed shut wasn’t a good idea. Both hands were in his pockets now, one of them was holding on to his 24-hour AA token.

They had a HALT acronym as well.

Hungry. Check.

Angry. Check.

Lonely. Check.

(Triple-check.)

Tired. Giant, eternal check.

Halt.

Think.

Focus. His throat was dry. He wanted to do something very stupid. It was very stupid. He tried to keep reminding himself of how stupid it was.

He’d half-assed the Relapse Prevention worksheets his therapist had given him. List three consequences, the thing had said. Formulate a plan: If I use again, I will…? Tony had jotted down all the immediately obvious textbook stuff. I will regret it. My friends will stop trusting me. I will start over. And stuff like that, nothing else.

He hadn’t half-assed it because he didn’t think those were important considerations, though. No, actually, it was because the things that honestly came to mind were If I relapse: I will binge my way into the grave because I’ll never want to be conscious of anything ever again.

If I relapse: kill me. Just fucking kill me.

That wasn’t something he’d wanted to write down.

Tony stopped by the magazine stand. His eyes were drawn to the wine guide again, because of course they were. He reached out and picked up the magazine, because of course he did, because of course he was madly fixated and he needed to see the pictures –

He figured, maybe if he satisfied the visual longing, he could distract himself from the… other levels of longing –

Pepper snatched the magazine from his hands.

Tony closed his eyes, and released a shaky breath through his teeth.

“I hate when people do that.”

“I hate to be kept waiting,” Pepper said matter-of-factly. “It’s been more than a minute.”

Tony opened his eyes.

“You know, when I say…” He had to breathe in, and out again. One of his hands went back into his pocket. “It’ll only take a minute, sometimes it’s not literally… one minute.”

Another deep breath.

“Sometimes it’s like… two, even three.”

Pepper’s eyes were on him before she dropped them to the magazine cover, and then back.

“Do you want to drink?”

“I don’t want to.”

(Slightly! Slightly.)

He took the magazine from Pepper. He hated that she knew what he was looking at.

“Hey, sorry,” the seller told him as Tony tried putting it back where he got it. “You read it, you buy it.”

Tony stood there, frozen and terrorized by the sense of inherent damnation that came with the idea that he was stuck with this perverse guide–

“I’ll buy it,” Pepper said, taking the magazine from Tony’s hand again.

Tony stepped away. He used a nearby parking meter as support for his back, his hands were back in his pockets. He regretted not having picked sunglasses with darker lenses.

“Valentine’s Day sucks,” he breathed out as Pepper approached him again, like that was the best explanation he had to give.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Pepper replied, like she believed his explanation.

“Where are the bags?”

“At the restaurant. I’ll pick them up.”

She didn’t leave her spot, though.

Her ponytail tumbled over her shoulder when she briefly turned her head in response to some noise.

The first time Pepper told him she loved him, it was also the first time in his life Tony had ever heard it from someone, in a romantic sense, and it had happened on Valentine’s Day.

Well, not on Valentine’s Day, just the day in January when he gave her a gift that was meant for Valentine’s Day –

Tony swallowed. His eyes were filling up.

He did not give a flying fuck about that whole thing.

He did, however, remember Pepper’s choice of wine that night, he remembered their choice of champagne, and that was what came to mind as he looked at her now, that’s what he was missing, that’s what he wanted to repeat, nothing else, just that –

Ride it out, he reminded himself. Cravings happen. Ride it out.

“It’s amazing,” Tony swallowed. He pocketed his hands when Pepper tried reaching for them. “It empties you out. It just -- empties you out.”

“It’s okay,” Pepper said.

Tony closed his eyes.

It wasn’t okay.

Then he nodded.

“I know,” he said. “It’s fine.”

He was aware of the people watching. Pepper was right in front of him. He had to get this under control. He couldn’t let it show. He couldn’t let anyone down with this, he couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

First things first: toughen up.

“Let’s go back.”

“Are you sure?”

He opened his eyes. Pepper was still studying him.

Actually, AA also had a “first things first” rule.

First things first: sobriety.

“I’m not sure,” Tony admitted.

“I’ll pick up our bags,” Pepper said. “We’ll go someplace else.”

He shook his head.

“I can’t.”

“Tony.”

“I want to go home.”

He tried to tell himself that this was a good thing. He was told it was okay to remove himself from situations.

Pepper didn’t look like she thought this was a good thing.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No,” Tony said. He straightened his posture. “I’ll just –”

“You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Why not?” He asked, defensively. “Because later on you might find me lying face down on my vomit, is that what you think will happen?”

He waited for a reply, but before Pepper said anything, he could see it in her eyes.

“It is, isn’t it.”

No response from her. Tony looked away as well after she did.

He was feeling something else, now. Complete devastation.

“It’s not like that, Tony,” she said eventually.

It was exactly like that.

“I get it,” he answered. His voice was tight. “It’s fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Well, I’m hurt,” he said. “But I get it. I get it, I spent decades saying I wanted to be alone while I was dying in the background. You don’t trust me. I get it.”

He felt Pepper’s touch on his upper arm.

“I don’t want you to be alone, Tony,” she said. “That’s it.”

Tony didn’t answer. Pepper ran her hand up and down his upper arm, then squeezed it.

I want to be alone, he wanted to say.

I’m overwhelmed.

“I need you to trust me,” Tony whispered, and it sounded pathetic even to him, he’d said variations of this so many times, invariably before doing something stupid.

One of his hands was still in his pocket. When he took it out, he was still holding his AA chip. He passed it on to Pepper.

He hadn’t talked about it, much less shown it to anyone until now. And he’d had no plans to. He wasn’t ashamed, but this wasn’t an accomplishment he needed on display.

“They give you one of those when you get started,” Tony said. “I have two. So far. I have the one for the one month benchmark as well. But it’s the 24-hour one I’m attached to, because it’s the one I can win every day.”

Pepper looked up from the token in her hands, then focused on him. Tony looked down.

“I wasn’t the one who said that. My sponsor did,” he continued. “I see him twice a week, before the meeting. I got to pick the days. Sundays, because weekends are lonely, and Wednesdays, because that’s right in the middle of the week, right, and weekdays are tiring.”

He lifted his gaze from his feet, to Pepper’s hands.

“I will get a gold chip exactly a week from now, it’s for two months.” He closed his eyes. “I’m doing that 90-in-90 thing they recommended. I haven’t missed a day since I started. I haven’t missed a day at the clinic either. I get actual homework from these things. I’ve been doing everything. I’m doing the reading. I called you.”

He looked at Pepper.

“I know you’re fine with me calling, right, so today I was – I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day, right – so, I called you. Instead of just sitting there, not… calling anybody.”

He swallowed, and bit his bottom lip.

“I know this is nothing compared to all the reasons I gave you not to trust me,” he continued. “But – I’m really –”

No. No but’s.

“Just tell me what you need me to do. Tell me what you need to help you trust me.”

Pepper opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She did it one more time before she closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re doing everything.”

“Don’t apologize for this. None of it was ever your fault.”

“I don’t need anything else.”

Pepper passed him back the token, and Tony put it away.

“Well, I don’t need anything else beside a ride,” she added. “You drove us over.”

Tony was able to smile after Pepper did.

He still felt like he was being handled like a ticking time bomb, even after Pepper said goodbye. He didn’t know if it was something he’d seen in her eyes or if it was something he was projecting there. What he did know was that he wanted to drink just to drown out the tick, tick, ticking of the clock in his head, and what a fucking ridiculous self-fulfilling prophecy that would be.

Tony didn’t know for how long he sat right by the door of Karla’s apartment. More than two hours, because that’s when he had stopped checking his watch. Still, he didn’t look up immediately after he heard the door opening.

“You’re unsettling the neighbors,” Karla said. Not cold, but disconcertingly neutral.

“I’m Tony Stark.”

“Does being Tony Stark disqualify you from harassment?”

“I’m harassing you?” He actually looked up at that. “Is this weird?”

One of Karla’s eyebrows quirked upward.

“My neighbors think so.”

“And you care about your neighbors.” He said it like there was a sense of wonderment inherent to that assumption. “Sorry. I didn’t want to intrude.”

Again.

“You’re sitting on my doorstep.”

“I know, trust me, I’ve been here for hours.”

“You could have called.”

“I’m sure you were doing something important.”

“You could have tested your theory by calling first.”

He hesitated.

“Wait. I’m intruding.”

“Slightly, yes.”

“I just figured you’d come out eventually, so I’d talk to you when you were in the mood to deal with the world.”

“What if I’d decided not to get out today, you’d have just sat here the whole night?”

“No!” Tony scoffed. His legs had been stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, but now he bent his knees and brought them close to his chest, but not quite touching it. “That would be weird.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t have anything else to do.”

A couple silent heartbeats, and then Karla sat by his side.

“Me neither.”

She wasn’t looking at him, which gave Tony an opportunity to examine her profile. Her eyes were catching the last of the day’s light.

“Is it too much to assume there’s a point to this visit?”

Tony blinked his gaze away when Karla’s turned to meet his.

“Obviously,” he said. “And I mean, it’s not a phone thing.”

He waited for a response, and when none came, he realized he’d been hoping for one, so that he could have gone on some other tangent and bought himself more time to figure out how to phrase any of this properly. Those hours sitting alone out there hadn’t been enough, apparently.

None of that, though.

“It’s just, you know.” He swallowed. “I wanted to let you know that you can go.”

Tony wasn’t looking at Karla, so he couldn’t measure her expression.

“Not that you need my permission. Obviously.”

Even though that’s what he’d just made it sound like. Idiot. He was bad at this.

“I’m just saying, I think I kind of implied that you needed to stay here and do something to prove you’re not batshit evil,” he continued. “And that is kind of stupid.”

“You’re apologizing?” Karla asked. “Was that the point of the flowers?”

Tony cleared his throat, now looking ahead instead of down.

“I’m saying that – I don’t think there’s such a thing as appealing to justice when it comes to trust, you know, there’s no quantitative anything that you can do to be entitled to it.”

Rambling. Get to the point.

“But there is such a thing as basic humanity. And not treating people like they’re nothing but a grenade with the pin pulled.”

He looked down again.

“I could have just stayed away, but I hounded you like you were an impending apocalyptic scenario or something. So, yes.” He bit into his bottom lip. “Yeah, I’m apologizing.”

Karla didn’t say anything immediately, and Tony wished he could see her expression. His self-consciousness won out though, and he didn’t look.

The silence was killing him. It might have lasted three seconds or ten minutes, he couldn’t even tell.

“For what it’s worth,” he continued. “I really didn’t – don’t want you to leave.”

“You said that before.”

Yeah, she was still listening.

“I’m not sure what I meant actually came across the first time.”

“You could try rephrasing it.”

Tony cleared his throat again, then actually turned his head to look at Karla. His eyes met hers, and stayed there for a second. Then it dropped briefly to her lips, and then up again. She placed a hand on one of his knees.

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

The pitch of his voice rose embarrassingly at the last word. God damn it. Karla pulled her hand back and used it to push some hair away from her face.

“Kamala would be heartbroken if I left,” she said, matter-of-fact.

And you care. Tony couldn’t help his smile.

“I meant like, dinner.”

Raised eyebrow on Karla’s part.

“Or lunch. Or breakfast. I mean,” he shrugged his attempted nonchalance, turning his gaze away again. “Whatever your date thing is.”

More silence from Karla. God, this was going to kill him.

“I’ll think on it.”

Tony stood up when she did.

“Good. So you’ll just…”

“Let you know.”

“Let me know,” he cleared his throat. “Exactly. So I’ll – go. Now.”

Karla nodded.

“Nice seeing you.”

He smiled, then turned his back, pocketing his hands like he was feeling relaxed and confident and absolutely not as if he’d just run three marathons.

He had to turn around and look at Karla again, just as she was closing the door.

“Okay, hold on,” he said. “No pressure. But it would be cool if you could make a decision in the next –” He looked at his watch. “Six hours.”

“That’s putting pressure.”

“Right!” He ran a hand through his hair. “Obviously. Of course, you don’t have to.”

Tony started stepping away again, but then he quickly turned back. Karla had been waiting in the same position like she knew he would do that.

“I just can’t help thinking in terms of future,” he started to explain. Or Tried. “It’s just something that I do. Sometimes it serves me well, sometimes it doesn’t.”

More rambling. Not good.

“So I was thinking, you know, in the long-term – if there’s a long-term for us –”

He hesitated. Karla didn’t leave, she just nodded for him to continue.

“It would be kind of cute if we could look back on Valentine’s Day first date.”

#turpentine cyanide #fromthedeskofvpotts #doctorkarlasofen #alcoholism cw

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