Summary: "You're caught, Carmen." Ivy crooned.
Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.
Story Info: Based on a scene from the Fox and the Hound.
"You're caught, Carmen." Ivy crooned, as she shifted in the riverbank to cuff the unconscious woman, trying to ignore the disconcerting flipping in her abdomen.
The thief started stirring, and Ivy quickly moved into something resembling side-control, such that she could keep Carmen down on her back. The detective knew the drill. One knee here, another here, watch the arm, lean forward. Of course, the act of focusing on pressure points and restraint helped keep Ivy from thinking, which for some unknown reason she was loath to do right now.
Even covered in mud and semiconscious, Carmen managed to look composed. It was a skill Ivy envied the execution of, if not the need for.
"Where is your brother?" Carmen asked, her usually silky hair slinking through the gritty water.
"Twenty-four hour bug." Ivy responded tersely. "He'll be back in action by tomorrow. But you won't."
Carmen didn't deign to answer, but Ivy could feel sporadic breathing, and feel it through her arms. The absence of the usual banter chilled the rain.
"What happened anyhow?" Ivy kvetched. "You were just passed out." The detective swallowed. "It was weird." She added sulkily.
"I don't have to tell you, detective." Carmen remarked, with a inflection that would have sounded utterly and completely bored, had she not run out of breath in the middle.
The agent's hold tightened in annoyance. "If you need any sort of medical attention," She recited, testily but proficiently, "You need to disclose it to me now." As the rain picked up, Ivy's hair splashed haphazardly across her face.
Carmen laughed, with husky dissonant music. "Medical attention. That's rich, detective. I doubt I have an hour to live."
Ivy gasped, almost instantly winded. "Oh no. What do you have?"
"Nothing life threatening." Carmen contradicted.
Confused, Ivy paused.
Carmen sighed. "I'm epileptic, detective."
"What?"
"I have epilepsy." Carmen paraphrased. "That's why I passed out."
Shaking her head, Ivy muttered. "You can't have epilepsy."
"Why not?" Carmen asked perfunctorily. "Lots of great men and women did. Harriet Tubman… Napoleon I, Julius Caesar…. "
"Much as I love to hear you compare yourself to famous people, Carmen," Ivy interjected sarcastically, "What would happen if you had a seizure while repelling down a building or flying a plane?"
"About the same thing as would happen if I slipped for any other reason." Carmen analyzed dispassionately.
"Well it's a bad idea." Ivy complained.
Carmen's mouth curled up at the corners.
"If you pass out on a heist it could seriously hurt… someone else." Ivy finished, uncertainly.
Her face falling the thief retorted. "It wont, since I'll be dead in a few minutes… and out of your hair, detective."
Ivy tossed her head, ostensibly to dislodge the streams of water from the torrential downpour. "Why do you keep saying that?"
For the first time, Carmen seemed a little taken aback. "Don't you know?"
Angry, Ivy shrugged.
"Really, detective." Carmen chided in exasperation. "Don't you ever read your paperwork?"
"I read it." Snapped Ivy defensively.
Mildly, Carmen raised her eyebrows.
"I err… skimmed it." The detective admitted. "It sure didn't say anything about you being about to die."
The water was coming down in sheets now, but Carmen made no attempt to shield her face. "What country are we in, detective?"
Scowling, Ivy answered.
"Good." Carmen responded at an infuriatingly academic clip. "And what sort of legal system is it under?"
"Uh… It's not really under any… it's kind of in the middle of a civil war." Ivy stuttered. "So… martial law I suppose."
"Ah yes." Carmen lauded. "And what were the instructions for if I was captured here?"
A blank face was her only response.
"Are you being intentionally dense, detective?" The thief's patience finally gave out.
"Are you being intentionally obtuse?" Ivy snapped. "How about you try explaining yourself?"
Sighing, Carmen shifted in the mud. "During his control of the Roman Republic, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix introduced a concept that would haunt the empire for years to come. Called proscription…"
"You think we could start the story somewhere in the last millennium?" Ivy inquired sarcastically.
"I tried the short version, detective. You wouldn't go for it." Carmen quipped.
Ivy glared. "You're the one who claims she's about to die."
"Any Roman found on Sulla's list could be legally murdered, detective." Carmen explained. "Attacked on sight."
"This conversation is esoteric even for you, Carmen." Ivy complained. "What are you getting at?"
"Great vocabulary today, detective, by the way." Carmen remarked. "Are you, by any chance, practicing for the SATs?"
"Lucky guess." Ivy muttered. "Quit stalling."
Carmen moved in exasperation, shaking water off her face. "I was hoping you'd figure it out for yourself, detective, but if you insist."
Ivy nodded.
Making serious eye contact, Carmen spoke. "When you call the soldiers in your party, detective." She whispered intensely. "Your guides will shoot me dead."
"What?" The pitch was about an octave above normal.
"You really need to read that paperwork." Carmen muttered awkwardly. "Check the standing orders if you doubt me."
Angrily, Ivy sat part way up, digging her knee into Carmen's side as she fumbled her communicator from her pocket. When she managed to call up the correct screen, she stopped, speechless.
"And it's even legal, detective." Carmen commented in feigned amusement. "Or as legal as anything gets in a country ruled by anarchy."
"Why…" Ivy stammered. "Why is Acme helping a totalitarian… uh… regime?"
Carmen shrugged. "Why do you habitually assist an international egomaniacal organized crime boss?"
"Who?"
"Me!"
"Oh…" Ivy muttered.
"My point is…" Carmen said grudgingly. "I'm sure they have a… very good reason. You don't want to start dealing in moral ambiguities, detective. It leaves one restless, believe me."
"Why on earth aren't you trying to run?" Ivy asked quietly, but she immediately knew the answer.
Carmen's eyes were out of focus and her speech, though sharp and intelligent, was somehow off and comparatively rambling. Though the thief hid the weakness relatively well, Ivy realized Carmen wouldn't be able to stand, let alone run or fight.
If Ivy alerted the rest of her party… this gritty mud would be the master-thief's deathbed. On some dark level it made sense. If Carmen could not be permanently captured, it fit, kind of, that a particularly brutal government might see fit to eliminate the threat any way they could.
Given enough time, Ivy might have been able to work her mind around the decision.
But she didn't have that luxury of delay.
"Don't be afraid to watch, detective." Carmen commented. "They'll be more efficient if they have to answer to you."
"Maybe I'll let you go." Ivy considered.
"No, you won't." Carmen responded, in a tone of bored resignation. "You always do the ethical thing, detective. It's your job to call them."
And it was really except… she couldn't make herself do it.
"Carmen." Ivy muttered. "I really don't want to see you get killed. This can't be … It doesn't feel right. "
"When you've lived a little longer, detective." Carmen said gently. "You'll learn that what we want and what is right are two different things. I chose this life, detective, and in a few minutes you'll see where that leads."
Ivy looked at the ground.
"Morality…" Carmen continued softly. "Is not susceptible to being pulled around, beaten up, and turned over on a whim. Take it from someone who's tried for ten years. I can call it anything I want, detective, but theft is wrong. Don't be like me. Do what you have to."
Hearing distant voices, Ivy realized that the decision was about to be forced on her. Bringing her face close to Carmen's she grated. "Tell me to let you go."
"I don't beg detective." Carmen challenged confidently. "Call them, if you have the stomach for it."
Ivy stood.
"Guys!" She yelled.
Carmen closed her eyes.
"I saw Carmen." The detective shouted over the storm. Pointing in the opposite direction, she yelled. "That way."
As the detective trotted away, Carmen turned her face into the mud, letting the cold rain pool over her eyes, and wondered what had just happened.
Goading the detective had been a purposeful act, to push her to anger and action.
Taunting Ivy had always worked
Before.