The camera pans over the Chicago skyline, coming to rest on the Heroes, Inc tower. The point of view zooms in, focusing on the logo before tilting and falling down towards a figure standing on the pavement below.
Cut to:
Caitlin D'Arcy, host of 'Eye on the Sky,' stands in front of the main entrance to the tower. She's holding a microphone and beaming into the camera.
(I still think she must be popping happy pills or something. No one, and I mean *no one* is naturally that perky. Especially at whatever godawful time in the morning she actually started filming. Yes, Jerry, I know she's just the same off-camera as on it. What's your point?
I still think we should have pushed harder for Oprah; added a little gravitas to the proceedings. Well of *course* I know Ms D'Arcy and her ilk test better with the younger demographic. Are you seriously trying to tell me - *me*! - how to play an audience? I didn't think so. Anyway, I was just saying.)
HOST: "Hello and welcome to a very special edition of 'Eye in the Sky'. I'm Caitlin D'Arcy, and today I'm going to be at home with Chicago's superheroes. Yes, that's exactly what it sounds like. We will be spending the entire day with the team, shadowing them even into areas that have previously been off-limits. Like their living quarters! As well as finding out just what exactly constitutes a typical day in the life of Chicago's superheroes, I'll be conducting a series of in-depth interviews, during which I'll be asking questions sent in by you, our audience.
(You know she actually had the gall to - very politely - try to get away without letting us vet her questions ahead of time. Some waffle about spontaneity, and encouraging the natural flow of the conversation. Conversation! Can you imagine? Naturally, I set her straight on the matter. Who knows what she could have come out with otherwise.)
Are you excited yet? I know I am!
I'm sure you'll all join me in giving them a hearty thanks for allowing us to see behind the curtain and into their day-to-day lives.
So, without further ado, let's head into the tower...
Two figures stand on the roof of the Heroes, Inc tower. Two women, one dark, one bright. Kalinda, dusky complexion and black leather; Alicia fair-skinned and swathed in red and white, Lady Liberty's colours. They stand side by side, leaning on the guard rail as they peer down at the activity on the pavement below.
"She's early," Kalinda remarks.
"Yes. She got here a little while ago. I'm not sure exactly what she's doing."
"Going over the shooting plan, setting up shots, doing a few different takes of her introduction, getting some stock footage of the tower, introducing herself and her crew to to security." Kalinda shrugs. "Spontaneous filming takes a lot of preparation."
Which, of course, Alicia would probably have known if she'd cared to think it through. But she just grins, nudging Kalinda's arm lightly with her elbow. "Trust you to have an answer."
Kalinda's only response to that is another shrug.
They stand there in companionable silence for a little while. Alicia tries to enjoy these last precious minutes of freedom before she has to go and perform for the world (well, the audience of Eye on the Sky), but her thoughts keep circling back to the ordeal ahead.
'It isn't fair,' she thinks to herself. Their living space has always been off-limits. *Always*. But Eli has this bee in his bonnet about making them seem more real, of getting the audience invested in them as people, rather than just characters. The 'human interest' angle, he calls it.
'Superhuman interest' when he's trying to be cute.
So, this whole 'day in the life' palaver is supposed to be about letting the audience see the men and women behind the masks. But the hell of it is, the only thing they're going to see when the mask is lifted... is yet another mask! Because there's no way on this earth that Eli will let *anything* hit the airwaves if it doesn't fit with the story he wants to tell.
It's a joke.
It's the biggest joke there is.
And Alicia can't help but laugh.
Kalinda looks at her quizzically, raising an eyebrow.
Alicia shakes her head, bringing herself under control again. "Nothing," she says. "Just Eli's control-freak tendencies."
"Ah." Kalinda nods understandingly. And Alicia believes she really does. Understand, that is. It feels... nice.
Spirits buoyed, she glances down at the pavement again, where Caitlin seems to be having an earnest conversation with a member of her camera crew.
"I should probably head down to hair and make-up sometime soon," she says, regretfully. "They're going to frown at me for letting myself get so windblown."
"It suits you." Kalinda glances quickly away after speaking, just missing Alicia's startled smile.
"Thank you." Somewhat wryly, Alicia adds. "Probably just as well. Short of setting it in concrete, a little mussing is unavoidable when I'm zipping around the skies." She pushes back off the rail but makes no move to actually leave the rooftop. "I wonder what Ms D'Arcy would do if I just hopped down there and said hello," she muses.
Kalinda glances back over her shoulder, the corners of her lips quirking upwards ever so slightly. "You could find out," she says softly.
Alicia shakes her head. "Eli would have a fit. You know how he feels about unsanctioned interactions with members of the press. And, as far as I can tell, 'interaction' means 'being within fifty feet of them'."
All the same, she does like the idea of sizing up the opposition ahead of the day's filming. (And, if she's honest, the thought of catching one of the press off-guard does appeal to her buried malicious streak.)
"They're not filming right now," Kalinda points out.
Alicia makes up her mind.
"Okay."
"Okay?" Kalinda frowns a little.
"I'm going to do it. Wish me luck!"
Without further ado, Alicia springs forward and dives over the rail. As she starts to fall, she hears Kalinda's voice, faintly, from above her.
"Luck."
The wind whips past Alicia as she turns her plummet into a controlled dive, waiting until she's halfway to the ground before rapidly shedding velocity. At the last minute, she rolls and flips like a gymnast at the peak of an arc, landing softly on the balls of her feet.
Just behind Caitlin.
Caitlin spins around and freezes, eyes widening in shock. The man she was speaking to starts to swear, then stops himself. The rest of her team give various expressions of surprise. Alicia smiles cheerfully, striking a heroic pose; legs akimbo, hands on her hips. (Eli would be so proud. Apart from wanting to throttle her for doing this in the first place, that is.)
"Good morning, Ms D'Arcy," Alicia says, cheerfully. "Sorry for startling you all." That malicious streak aside, she actually is sorry, a little. Just a little. "I saw you down here and thought I'd pop down and say hello."
To Caitlin's credit, she recovers quickly, the shocked look on her face wiped away by a grin so broad Alicia half-wonders if it's going to split her face in two.
"Lady Liberty! Gosh, what a surprise. Good morning! It's so great to finally meet you in person. And please call me Caitlin." She sticks out her hand, apparently automatically, then looks a little uncertain. "I don't know if-" she starts to say, but Alicia just grins and shakes her hand.
"Nice to meet you, Caitlin," she says. "I'm Alicia." After all, if she's going to flout Eli this once, she might as well do it properly. She hasn't lost all sense, however. Lowering her voice mock-conspiratorially, she adds: "But not on camera, if you don't mind."
"Oh! Of course." Caitlin pauses, then, in a low, almost reverent voice, says: "Alicia." She beams like she's the happiest person in the world, and no matter how much Alicia keeps telling herself it's all an act, she can't help warming to the other woman just a little bit. "Let me introduce you to the team!"
Caitlin turns to the other people milling around, most of whom are still looking rather awestruck. (All but one, Alicia can't help noticing. A woman whose expression is so determinedly neutral it almost seems downright hostile in comparison to the others. But it's probably just reaction to the shock of Alicia's arrival. Or the woman is just naturally reserved. Alicia can certainly sympathise with that.)
"The woman with the notebook is Vanessa: shoot manager, researcher and all-round miracle-worker." That would be the reserved woman. She does, however, relax enough to give Caitlin a small smile and nod cordially at Alicia.
"Pleased to meet you."
Alicia nods back. "And you."
Caitlin continues with the introductions.
"Martin and Simon are on the cameras." The cameramen wave. Simon, the one who started swearing in surprise when Alicia dropped in, flushes a little.
"Sorry about..." He stumbles to a halt, gesturing vaguely.
"Don't worry about it," Alicia says genially. It seems to help.
"Tariq and James are the sound and lighting engineers. respectively."
Both men nod. Tariq manages a shy: "Hello."
Alicia nods and smiles.
"And that's all of us!"
"Nice to meet you all."
"Well, we're just so happy to be here! Thank you so much for doing this. It will mean so much to our viewers."
As Caitlin chatters on, Alicia smiles and nods in the right places, answering the questions she can and politely demurring on the ones she can't (or won't). Strange though it seems this woman *actually* seems... genuine. Of all the things Alicia might have been expecting, that wasn't one of them. Maybe this 'behind the scenes' thing won't be as bad as she thought.
Maybe.
But she's not quite ready to forgive Eli for it yet.
And, speaking of the Wizard...
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to say goodbye for the moment." She interrupts Caitlin as politely as she can, smiling apologetically. "I have an appointment I need to get to."
"Oh! Of course. I'm so sorry for keeping you talking."
"That's no problem at all," Alicia says. "It was nice to meet you all." She smiles around at all of them. Even at Vanessa, who seems to be eyeing her warily. "I'll see you in a little while."
And on that note, she takes off.
Kalinda is still waiting for her as she lands softly on the roof.
"How was it?" she asks softly.
"It was... okay," Alicia says. "Quite pleasant, actually. Caitlin was very... human. And nice."
Kalinda ducks her head a little, but not before Alicia sees the small smile quirking her lips.
"What?"
"Just wondering why you were surprised at Caitlin being human."
"I just meant..." Alicia waves her hand vaguely, trying to find the words to describe what she means. "I was expecting some kind of media robot; someone who just wanted to dig for scandal and drama. But she actually seemed to care about making us look good."
"Well, of course she'd want to give that impression..." The waves of cynicism coming from Kalinda are practically tangible.
Alicia shakes her head. "I really think she meant it."
"Hmmm." Kalinda sounds less than convinced. Tilting her head, she looks thoughtfully at Alicia. "So, what did you think of Vanessa?"
"The shoot manager? I didn't really talk to her much. Kind of reserved, I guess." She looks sharply at Kalinda. "Why do you ask."
"Her full name is Vanessa Gold."
Alicia blinks. "Gold? Like Eli? They're related?" She pauses as a thought strikes her. "She's his *wife*?!"
"Ex-wife."
"What's she doing here? Does Eli know?"
"She's a hotshot investigative reporter. Prize-winning. Not sure what her angle here is; probably doing some kind of expose. Eli knows." She shrugs deprecatingly. "He had me investigate the team before agreeing to allow them on-site."
"I... see." But Alicia doesn't see, not at all. "Does she have a grudge against him? Why would he even let her in here?"
"They seem to get on reasonably well as long as they're not actually married to each other," Kalinda says wryly. "I think it's more of a... friendly competition."
"But I still don't see why he'd let her in if he knows she's going to be trying to expose... whatever there is to expose. It doesn't make *sense*!"
"It does if he thinks he has nothing to hide. If he's confident that anything she can dig up will only benefit the team." A small, tight smile. "If he has reason to be confident that she can't do any harm."
*Now* the lightbulb clicks on in Alicia's head. "He's playing her, isn't he?"
"He's... trying to. But he's underestimating her. If there is anything he doesn't want coming out, it could honestly go either way."
"But if it goes the way he wants, he's got a prize-winning reporter who - as far as anyone else knows - has every reason to have a grudge against him, actively coming out and saying that there's nothing to hide..."
"It won't appease the hardline conspiracy theorists," Kalinda notes, "but it will make Joe and Jane Q. Public less likely to drink their Koolaid."
"Huh. That's... tricksy."
"That's Eli."
"Huh." Alicia says again. She shakes her head to clear the cobwebs. "Anyway, interesting - and disturbing - as all of this is, I really do have to go. Apparently, our target demographic prefers its superheroines primped and preened within an inch of their lives."
"And we have to think about our demographic," says Kalinda, gravely.
"Yes," agrees Alicia. And she can't quite keep the jagged bitter edge from her heart and her voice as she echoes: "We *have* to think about our demographic..."
"We have to think about our demographic." Eli says firmly, waving some papers around for emphasis. (According to Will, those are probably just some random official-looking hardcopies he managed to scrounge up before the meeting. Alicia isn't *quite* sure she believes that, but she isn't going to discount it either.) "They're just not responding well to these associations at all. If we don't do something, it's going to irreparably damage the popularity of you as individuals and the team as a whole."
Will snorts loudly, spinning around in his chair. "Eli doesn't want to alienate the segment of the population that'll just about tolerate a black superhero - at least out loud - but will pitch a fit if it even looks like members of the team are associating with *Ay*rabs," he translates. "Isn't that right, Julius?"
Julius rolls his eyes expressively. "Otherwise known as the 'acceptably racist,' market," he agrees.
Alicia looks away, unsure if the expression on her face is closer to a wince or a smirk. She catches Peter's eye. He gives her a small smile, but his eyes are grave, his arms crossed. He seems less than impresssed with the proceedings.
"No!" Eli exclaims, throwing his papers down onto the conference table so forcefully that some of them skid across the polished surface and fall onto the carpet. "That is *not* what I was saying at all!" Alicia leans down to pick the papers, sneaking a quick peek. She laughs.
"You really did just grab any random papers you had laying around your office, didn't you?"
"I *told* you he did," pouts Will, mock-woundedly. "You never believe me."
"Because you tell the most outrageous lies!"
"Do not."
"Yes, you do."
"Do not!"
Eli's face is starting to turn an interesting shade of red. "Oh, *I'm* sorry," he interjects. "I thought this was a briefing, not a playgroup."
Will looks utterly confused. "Really? Is that what this is? Because I had it down in my diary as a KKK rally..."
"I am NOT! BEING! RACIST!"
Dead silence follows Eli's below. Will stops his chair mid-spin. Alicia quietly puts Eli's papers back on the loose pile in front of him.
"That's better," Eli breathes. "Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted-"
The door swings open.
"Sorry I'm late," says Jonas, striding confidently into the briefing room. He grabs a chair and manouevres it around Will, claiming a space next to Diane. "Did I miss anything important?"
Eli makes a strangled noise.
Will scoots his chair forward and stage-whispers to the others. "Uh oh. Looks like it's time for the Gold-en Shower of Rage. Get it? Eli *Gold*?"
Naturally, everyone cracks up.
Well everyone except Diane (who merely smiles a little) and Eli, who chokes and coughs and splutters, glaring daggers at Will, who attempts (unconvincingly) to look innocent.
"I'm not sure I want to know," Jonas chuckles, shaking his head.
Finally managing to bring his voice back under control, Eli spins on his heel and glowers at Diane.
"Can you please get your... your *team* under control," he all-but growls, stabbing his finger wildly in their general direction.
Diane tilts her head and studies him for a long moment before replying. "I don't know, Eli," she says, quietly. "I mean, I wouldn't want to overstep any boundaries; confuse any chains of command." She gives the tiniest smile, a mere quirk of the lips that doesn't get anywhere near her eyes. "You know how I do so hate to muddy the waters."
All around the room, the mirth dies away, replaced by raised eyebrows and winces. Sometimes, Alicia reflects, it's easy to forget just how cutting Diane can be when she puts her mind to it. And this sounds like an old and bitter argument.
Eli opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, a vein in his temple bulging ominously. "We've discussed this, Diane," he says, sounding as if he's having to force the words out. "I direct the overall arc and I'm in charge of all the media stuff, but this is *your* team. You're responsible for logistics and day to day operations."
"Hmm," Diane says, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "It certainly sounds clear enough when you put it like that. I suppose the recent... confusion... was just a misunderstanding?"
"Confusion?" Alicia hadn't thought it was possible for Eli's face to become any redder, but apparently she was wrong. He shakes his head, his nose wrinkling like he's just come across a very bad smell. "What confusion?"
Diane shrugs understatedly. "Some of my decisions - decisions regarding the logistics and day to day operations of my team - have been... overridden by..." That smile again. That one Alicia is very glad isn't directed at her. "People on your staff. Using your name. But if it's just a misunderstanding..."
Ah. So, Eli's been interfering, but Diane is willing to allow him to save face. Or maybe she doesn't want to risk having her authority officially curtailed, rather than merely unofficially.
There's another long moment of silence as Eli and Diane look at each other. Diane's expression is polite and neutral. Eli narrows his eyes, his hands twitching as if he wants to start throwing things. Or throttling someone. Alicia would almost - almost - like to see him try the second one. Even crippled, the Iron Lady is more than capable of making a single unenhanced human very sorry he tried to mess with her.
But Eli apparently has better sense and better self-control than that. He takes a couple of deep breaths, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a tension headache. Muttering something inaudible, he sits back down and opens his eyes again, nodding at Diane.
"I'll speak with my staff," he grinds out, grudgingly.
Diane smiles beneficently at him. "Thank you, Eli. I appreciate it." She turns her gaze on the rest of them, her expression becoming stern. "Now," she says, firmly. "I would like you all to let Eli finish the briefing without interruptions. I'm sure we can manage that, can't we?" They all nod. "Good. Now, Eli, I belive you were telling us why these new guidelines *aren't* racist?"
Eli glowers a little, almost visibly restraining himself from making some edged retort. Instead, he takes a couple of deep, calming breaths and looks around at the team.
"Right. Well. I'll summarise for the late arrival." He shoots a sharp look in Peter's direction. "We've finally finished processing the data from our latest batch of opinion polls and focus groups and... there are a few clear conclusions to be drawn." He coughs. "First of all, while your individual looks get generally positive reactions, there is definitely some room for improvement, so we will be making a few adjustments. Nothing too drastic," he hastens to add, making shushing gestures at the chorus of groans and mutterings. "Just the odd tweak here and there. Sarah will be scheduling appointments for you all with costuming over the next week. We'll try to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible."
The grumbling subsides.
"Second, and overwhelmingly, the audience wants to see more of your personal lives and interactions with each other."
"What, fighting crime and performing superhuman feats isn't enough for them?" Will wants to know.
Eli smiles thinly. "No, Will, it isn't. As well you know. As you *all* know. So we're brainstorming some ideas at the moment, and we'll hold another meeting when we have some things pinned down."
"That's the thing I love about these briefings," Julius observes, wryly. "How informative they are. 'Some adjustments' to costumes. 'Some ideas' for things to show the public. Really, Eli, all these details. You're spoiling us."
"There's no need for sarcasm," Eli says tightly. "This is just a heads up to let you know in general terms what's coming down the pipeline. You know, like you all specifically requested. If you want to wait until I have all the details ready to give you, then by all means we can do that." His voice is starting to climb in pitch and volume again. "But I *thought* this was what you *wanted*!"
"This is fine, Eli," Diane cuts in. "As long as we get the details when you have them."
"That was the *plan*, Diane," he says.
"He's a poet and he didn't know it." Will, sotto voce.
"That's not helpful, Will," Peter gently rebukes him.
Will grins sharkishly, opening his mouth to retort, but Alicia jumps in before he can say anything. "We did say we'd let Eli continue uninterrupted," she points out.
"Thanks you!" says Eli, throwing up his hands. "Thirdly, it seems that a significant majority of the people in our primary demographic have some... strong views about the individuals you associate with." He hurries on before anyone can speak up. "Specifically, the numbers show a consistent drop in popularity, which translates into a measurable drop in *income*, every time Will is seen with..." He roots around amongst the papers scattered in front of him for a moment and triumphantly pulls out one - possibly the only one - that seems to have some relevant information on it. "Jamal Aziz. Every time Julius hangs out with Gerard Du Morne. Or with Radar from the New York team. Every time Alicia meets with Sharifa Khalil. Or does anything with or for Ms Khalil's organisation, for that matter."
"But it's a charity," Alicia objects, finally stung to speech despite her resolve to stay silent and just get this briefing over with. "It's a foundation for ensuring that girls in third world countries receive access to education."
"I know what it is, Alicia." Eli speaks slowly, with exaggerated patience. "And some of our audience probably know it too. Hell, some of our audience probably even donate. I know *I* do. My daughter insists on it. But the vocal majority apparently either don't know or don't care. They disapprove nonetheless." He takes a deep breath. "And we cannot afford to ignore that."
"Why not?" Alicia admires Julius' ability to make that question sound reasonable, rather than hostile. "Will it really hurt the bottom line that much?"
Eli sighs heavily, slouching in his seat. "Actually, yes it will." Alicia is suddenly struck by how tired he seems. "I know you think I'm all about the image and the PR and the market share. I know you think I get in the way of you doing actual *heroics*. And you're not entirely wrong about that. But I'm not doing this just to be an asshole." He shrugs. "Well, not usually."
He grins briefly, tightly, and then his expression sobers again. "It isn't like the old days. You're not agents. You're not public servants. You're privately contracted employees. And, frankly, you're expensive as all hell. Heroes, Inc is a business. Unlike the government, it can't afford to run at a loss. If it doesn't make a consistent, significant profit, then the powers that be will can the whole programme. And then there'll be no heroics at all."
"Are we at risk of being shut down?" Peter's voice seems loud in the silence following Eli's words.
"Not imminently, no," Eli replies. "But that's because we've made damn sure it hasn't even gotten close to that point. Unlike Philadelphia. Not that you heard that from me."
Will sits up straight in his chair. "They're shutting down the Philly team? Why?"
"Because they're *boring*. They don't have a story. Their on-screen personas are utterly bland. They keep the cameras far away from their personal lives. There's just nothing there for the people to latch on to, so people don't watch them. Which means none of the major networks want to pay to broadcast their 'exploits'." He makes air-quotes with his fingers. "Aside from a few completists, no one's buying their merchandise. Their income is negligible, but their running costs sure as shit aren't. Add in a couple of expensive lawsuits resulting from some of their 'heroic actions' and they're haemorrhaging money right now." He shakes his head. "It's getting pretty ugly out there."
"What's going to happen to the team?" Alicia wants to know.
"Most likely reinvented and reassigned. I guess at one or two of them might be retired, though."
Diane leans forward in her seat. "Retired? You mean de-attuned?"
"Well, *yeah*." Eli rolls his eyes. "What did you think it meant? A bullet to the head? God! Anyway, the point I was trying to make, before I got a little side-tracked, was that we have to do everything we can to make sure *we* don't end up in the same boat as Philadelphia. Which means making a few sacrifices." He takes a deep breath. "So. I am going to ask you to try to limit your associations with anyone we've flagged up as 'problematic'. And let us vet any new contacts you make."
The room erupts at that, everyone talking over everyone else.
"What?"
"You can't-"
"I'm sure if-"
"Is that really-"
Stern is the only one of the team who remains silent, staring fixedly down at the conference table as if it holds some fascinating insight.
"You want to vet our *friends*?" Unusually, Alicia's voice cuts across the babble, silencing it. She looks at Eli, torn between anger and pleading.
He glances away, shuffling his papers. "I'm afraid it's the only way we can try to head off problems like this before they become serious."
"How is it even going to work?" Will wants to know. "We have to tell anyone who so much as says hello: 'Sorry, work has to run a background check on you before I can reply'?"
"No, of course not," Eli replies, exasperatedly. "That would be ridiculous."
"You're telling me!"
"We're working on some guidelines, but one-off, unplanned encounters should be fine. Within reason." He looks sharply at Will, who shrugs and spreads his hands in a 'who, me?' gesture. "This is more about people you're going to be seen with on a regular basis."
Peter leans forward in his seat. "So, when *should* we let you know? The second time we meet someone? The third? How is this going to work, Eli?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out right now. Please feel free to make suggestions, though."
"Is there any point?" Will really isn't happy about this, Alicia realises. Not that she is, not that any of them are, but Will... He's grinning mirthlessly, sprawled in his chair like he hasn't a care in the world. His voice is sardonic, but with a hard edge that usually promises very bad things. She tries to catch his eye, but his gaze is firmly fixed on Eli.
Eli rolls his eyes. "Yes, there's a point. It's in everyone's best interests for us to come up with something we can all live with. So think about it. We'll have another meeting about this sometime next week. Sarah will let you know when."
"So, are we done now?"
"Yes, Will, we're done. For the moment."
"NO!" Jonas slams his hand down on the table hard, wisps of green light spilling forth from his skin to eat away at the wood.
Everyone jumps.
Jonas pushes himself to his feet, glaring daggers at Eli. His face is such a mask of rage that it makes Eli's earlier show of temper seem like nothing more than a child's tantrum.
"We are *not* done. This is *bullshit*. I didn't sign up for any of this. All I ever wanted was to do some goddamn good! So I stuck it out when the government farmed us out to Heroes, Inc. When they brought in all those regulations about when and how we could do our jobs. I put up with it when they started filming us. When they started telling us how to dress. When they started turning us into characters. When we spent more time on goddamned PR stunts and showmanship than on actually being *heroes*. And now you want to control who I hang around with? Fuck that noise!"
To his credit - and Alicia's surprise - Eli actually manages to meet Jonas' gaze, even though he has to swallow visibly before he can speak.
"I just told you why it's necessary," he says, placatingly.
"And I just said fuck it!" Jonas slams his hand into the table again, the flicker of light seeming brighter, stronger. This time, his fist goes right through the sturdy wood. " Most of my team, my friends are *dead*. Diane *almost* died. Howard's in a nursing home *dribbling* after he let your boffins 'de-attune' him. Don't you think you've taken enough from us?"
"That was first generation technology," Eli protests, still keeping his voice calm and even. (Well, as calm and even as possible when faced by a furious superhuman.) "The procedure is much safer now. And anyway, that was well before my time."
"I don't care." Jonas stands up straight, his voice suddenly calm and level, his expression utterly blank.
Alicia feels an icy chill run the length of her spine. For some reason, she finds this altogether more terrifying than when he was yelling and screaming and pounding the table. Slowly, she gets to her feet.
"Maybe we should talk about this some more," she says, softly. "We might be able to work something out."
"I doubt it," Jonas says. "Anyway, I think Eli was right after all. We're done here. *I'm* done here." He turns and heads for the door, pausing on the threshold to add: "Fuck you, Eli. Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on."
The door closes behind him.
At first, everyone stays frozen and silent. Diane is the first to move, swearing uncharacteristically as she struggles to her feet. It's as if that breaks the spell. Will shakes his head as if to clear the cobwebs, quickly moving to offer Diane an arm to lean on. It's a measure of how distracted she is that she actually accepts.
"We have to go after him," she says. "Before he does something reckless."
"Just point the way," Will murmurs. They head out of the room.
Eli collapses in his seat, burying his head in his hands. "I guess that *could* have gone worse," he says, his voice muffled. "Although not by much."
Peter leans over and pats Eli reassuringly on the shoulder. "Diane will talk some sense into him, you'll see. He just needs to blow off a little steam."
Alicia isn't entirely convinced, but she doesn't think Eli would appreciate her saying that, so she keeps her misgivings to herself. Julius rolls his eyes, but otherwise forbears to comment.
Eli groans into his hands. "Go," he says. "Let me wallow for a while. On second thoughts, send Sarah in here. No, on third thoughts, tell her to give it five minutes and then come in." A beat later, he remembers to add: "Please."
"We will," says Alicia. They leave him to his wallowing.
After delivering his message to Sarah, Alicia pauses uncertainly, looking at Peter and Julius. "Do you think we should join the search party?"
Peter shakes his head. "No, Diane and Will can handle it."
"I agree," says Julius. "And I'm not sure us showing up mob-handed would be the best thing for him right now. Or for wherever he is at the time."
"I suppose..." says Alicia. Maybe they're right. Maybe.
Peter disrupts her train of thought by putting his arm around her waist.
"See you later, Julius," he says, politely, but firmly.
"Bye." Julius nodds affably and heads off down the corridor.
"Goodbye, Julius," adds Alicia, belatedly. She lets Peter steer her towards the elevators, her thoughts still lingering on Jonas and the disastrous briefing. "Do you really think Diane will be able to calm Jonas down?" she asks, slowly.
"Probably. After a while. He'll probably cause *some* trouble before she does, but I doubt it'll be anything Eli can't smooth over. He's good at that kind of thing. And it's probably best for Jonas to get it all out of his system sooner, rather than later.
"Hmmm," she muses, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Peter leans in close. "Besides," he murmurs, his breath tickling her ear. "We have a wedding to plan."
A sudden flare of happiness makes her heart flutter, not quite driving away the lingering uneasiness, but at least pushing it back a little.
"I suppose we do," she says lightly. "But don't we have a team for that?"
"I thought we should put our heads together and make a list of things we want and don't want. We have more chance of getting concessions if we present a united front."
"So businesslike," Alicia laughs.
Peter shrugs. "That's how they're going to treat this if we're not careful. Just something to be packaged and marketed and sold. I just want to make sure that our big day actually has something to do with you and me. Rather than just being a big, loud, meaningless spectacle."
"I know," Alicia sighs. "I want that too."
Peter pulls her close and she snuggles into the warmth of his body. They stand there together like that, in silence, as they wait for the elevator to arrive. Alicia's mind keeps churning, worrying about Jonas and what he's going to do; thinking, thinking and *thinking* about the wedding that's going to be a three-ring circus when all she wants is a simple, quiet, *meaningful* ceremony. Strictly family and close friends only.
The idea hits her as the elevator doors close. She straightens, turning to look thoughtfully up at Peter.
He furrows his brow. "What?"
She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, startled to see that she's grinning like a madwoman. No wonder Peter looks worried. She kisses him lightly on the lips, only just managing not to let out the laughter that's suddenly bubbling up inside her.
"So, what do you think about," another kiss for punctuation, "eloping?"
"More trashy TV?"
Alicia is proud of the fact that she doesn't jump this time. But from the amused quirk of Kalinda's lips, the other woman is perfectly aware of just how close it was. One of these days, Alicia is going to figure out how she does it. One of these days.
But not today.
She grins a little sheepishly at Kalinda, who's lounging insouciantly in the doorway.
"It was there, and I was feeling bored and anti-social."
"Should I leave?"
"No! No, of course not. Come on in." Uncurling from her sprawl, she pats the seat next to her on the sofa encouragingly.
Kalinda nods and heads into the room, holding a bag up before her like an offering.
"I brought popcorn and ice cream." She flashes one of her rare smiles, the kind that seems to light up her face, making her eyes sparkle with mischief. "And alcohol."
"My hero!" Alicia gets to her feet, struck with the sudden, inexplicable urge to give the other woman a hug. (Not that she does, of course. It's known that Kalinda Doesn't Do Hugs. But Alicia wants to, and not just for the much-appreciated supplies.) "I'll deal with the ice cream and popcorn. You can sort out the alcohol."
The two of them bustle around the kitchen. Wihout needing to speak, they effortlessly manage the intricate choreography necessary for more than one person to negotiate the small space without collisions. Alicia can already feel herself starting to relax, the knot in her stomach loosening in a way that even solitude, a comfy sofa and the trashiest of trashy TV hadn't been able to manage.
Who knew that it was possible to feel antisocial and lonely at the same time?
Eli's little surprise party left her on edge, nerves raw and jangling. She knows the rest of the team would sympathise with her - off-camera, at least - but, while she generally enjoys their company, it comes with too much baggage for her to find it truly effortless. Right now, she just doesn't have the energy.
Hanging around with Kalinda... It's different. Simpler. Kalinda doesn't ask anything of her. She's just there: a quiet, comforting presence.
A friend.
Her best friend.
(But why does that thought suddenly feel like its own fairground mirror reflection? Like when you say your name over and over and over and over again until it feels alien and strange? Like the ground beneath her feet has shifted where it should be solid and immutable?)
(It's probably just her frazzled nerves. Everything feels off-kilter right now.)
Alicia and Kalinda settle themselves on the sofa, snacks and drinks close to hand. Kalinda studies the TV, one eyebrow raised.
"So, what are we watching?"
"I think it's called 'Don't Tell the Bride'. They take a bunch of engaged couples, give the groom a budget and a deadline - usually a couple of weeks, I think - and have him arrange the wedding."
"What does the bride do?"
"Usually go to stay with friends or family while she waits to see what her beloved fiance will come up with. They're not allowed to see each other in the run up to the wedding."
Kalinda blinks. "She doesn't get a say?"
Alicia shakes her head, shifting around on the sofa to make herself comfortable. "Nope. It's all him. The idea is that he's supposed to know her well enough to arrange something that she'll like." She shrugs. "In reality, the programme-makers are hoping that the bride will hate it." Her voice tuns sardonic. "It makes for much more dramatic television that way."
"Of course." Kalinda considers for a moment. "What about the dress?"
"He chooses that, too. But there is a little flexibilty. If she absolutely hates it, she can call him and plead to have some alterations made."
"Oh. That's..." Kalinda frowns a little, hunting for the right word and eventually settling on: "Special."
"Yeah, isn't it awful?" Alicia grins hugely, reaching for the remote control so she can unpause the programme. "It's like a slow-motion trainwreck. I just can't look away."
Kalinda shakes her head. "Good job I brought this, then." She brandishes the bottle of what Alicia belatedly realises is tequila. "I think we're going to need it..."
"He isn't..." Kalinda is leaning forward, staring wide-eyed at the screen. She doesn't even seem to notice that Alicia is watching her, not the television. She catches her lower lip between her teeth, apparently caught up in the unfolding disaster. "He wouldn't..." She groans. "Oh, he didn't!" She turns quickly, freezing as she meets Alicia's amused gaze. "What?"
Alicia shakes her head. "It's just so *cute* how into this you are."
"Look who's talking. Just how many episodes do you have queued up on the TiVo, anyway?"
"Umm, I don't know." Alicia's cheeks flare with heat. "Some."
"Some," Kalinda echoes, disbelievingly. "Uhuh. Queued up next to 'America's Next Top Model', I'll bet." Alicia starts to protest - there can't be more than a couple of episodes of ANTM on there - but Kalinda carries on speaking over her. "Anyway, I don't do 'cute'." She sounds utterly disgusted by the very idea.
Alicia grins widely, amusement pushing embarrassment aside. "Yes, you do. You were just then."
"You're delusional," Kalinda says decisively. "Or drunk."
"Ha! Not likely. I'm a superhero, don't you know. It takes a *lot* to get me drunk. I could certainly drink you and your puny mortal liver right under the table."
Kalinda... smiles, quirking an eyebrow as she leans forward, into Alicia's space. "Is that a challenge?" she breathes, so close that Alicia can feel hot breath against her lips. For some reason, her cheeks flush again.
"Umm..." Alarm bells start to ring in her mind, but there's no way she's going to back down now, so: "Yes. Yes, it is."
"You're on." For a brief, mad, moment, Alicia thinks that Kalinda is going to lean forward and... What? But instead, she sits back on her side of the sofa, reaching down to snag the bottle of tequila. "Hold out your glass," she orders.
"So, how are we going to do this?" Alicia wonders as Kalinda fills her glass to the brim. "Just do shots until one of us falls over?"
"No, that's boring." Kalinda fills her own glass and sets the bottle down on the coffee table. She doesn't bother to put the cap back on. "I have a much better idea..."
Later, the two of them are slumped onto the sofa, practically leaning against each other for support. Alicia *thinks* Kalinda is more far gone than her, but it's hard to tell through the other woman's composure. Although, the fact that she can keep up the mask even after putting away... however many shots it's been... is pretty damned impressive in and of itself. Alicia let hers slip hours ago. Not that she really tends to keep it on when it's just the two of them.
(Which is kind of odd, when she thinks about it. When she really, really thinks about it. Because even with Peter...)
(No. No, she is nowhere *near* drunk enough for this train of thought.)
A beanansidhe-like shriek blares out from the television, followed by: "What. Is. That?!"
"Uh-oh," murmurs Kalinda.
"Do you think she hates the dress?" Alicia asks, sarcastically.
"I think she hates the dress," Kalinda agrees. "And you know what that means..."
Alicia holds out her glass for a refill. "Cheers!"
"Cheers," Kalinda echoes.
They both knock back their shots.
"It's funny," Alicia muses, swivelling around so she can hang her legs over the edge of the sofa. "This programme seems much more bearable as a drinking game. She wriggles around a little, trying to find a way she can sprawl comfortably without laying across Kalinda's lap. After a couple of minutes of writhing, Kalinda sighs and grabs a cushion, tucking it in behind Alicia's back.
"There. Lean back against me."
Alicia does so. "Thanks." She wriggles around a little more, ending up with her head resting against Kalinda's shoulder. "That's surprisingly comfortable."
"I have my uses," Kalinda murmurs.
"Yep." Alicia nods enthusiastically. "You're very useful to have around." And suddenly, without warning, there are words bubbling up into her throat, spilling forth from her lips. Words she wasn't intending to say, but now couldn't keep back if she tried. "I really like having you around, Kalinda. I don't... I don't have many friends. Not close friends. Not people I can just... be myself with. I feel comfortable with you. You don't want anything from me. You don't expect anything. And you've helped me so much. I can't even tell you how grateful I am for everything you've done for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Her words seem to fall heavily into the air. She can imagine them clunking and clattering to the ground like lead weights. Self-consciousness catches up with her, making her cheeks burn yet again, this time with mortification.
'Oh my god,' she thinks, horrified, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball and pull a cushion over her head. Maybe Kalinda didn't hear her. Maybe she was engrossed in the TV. Maybe she's fallen asleep. Maybe there's some completely harmless reason why the silence stretches and stretches and Kalinda isn't saying a single word in response to her rambling... confession?
All of a sudden, it's like she's back in high school again. Like she's just blurted out 'I-think-you're-cool-will-you-go-out-with-me' to her super-hot crush. Her pulse is pounding in her ears, the walls are closing in, and it's so stifling, so hard to breathe.
(It's like she's standing on the brink of something, some realisation.)
Kalinda clears her throat. Alicia holds her breath. Kalinda sighs softly, leaning her head against Alicia's.
"There's something I have to tell you..."