Disclaimers, spoilers, and whatnot: Still not mine... even Joanne is only half-mine. Spoilers through 2.01 or so. If you haven't seen that far yet, good grief, get a Netflix account and catch up.
A/N: Special thanks to KJay99 for the beta work, for even MORE beta work after the chapter already went live, and for being you (and not killing me for that joke). I feel compelled to point out to my readers that all moments of mushiness are entirely the fault of the author, not the beta! Any typos, errors, failure to italicize direct thoughts, or idiotic plot ideas that didn't work, are also entirely the author's fault. Apologies for taking so long at this. I finally had to skip over the chapter that was meant to go here, because it just wasn't working. If I ever get it done, I'll post it out of order for y'all, or maybe as a separate story. Also, I know this is slightly rough in places, but I've been working on it since August 2010, I have no ideas on how to fix it, and I'm beyond ready to be done with it. You see something that I could/should have done better? Please, by all means, tell me about it! And by the same token tell me what you like, too. Otherwise I'm going to start changing things up until I get more interesting reviews!
Claudia grabbed her messenger bag and practically ran to keep up with Artie, who'd already put a good twenty paces between them as he snaked his way through the other passengers exiting the plane they'd taken from Switzerland to London. By the time she'd caught up to him, she felt like she'd crossed half of the airport terminal, and pissed off about half of London in the process. Finally, finally he stopped in a place that didn't quite look like the rest of the terminal. Actually, Claudia suddenly realized with a disconcerted sense, she had no idea where she was at all. It looked like an airport, but without all the people. And Artie was heading out a door and downstairs to the pavement below before she had a chance to ask where he was taking her.
She picked back up to a jog, continuing her goal of catching up, but lurched to a stop when she saw where he was going. Artie continued, unaware that he'd lost his young red-haired shadow until he was halfway up another flight of stairs towards a small plane with just a registration number, no airline logo. He suddenly realized he was alone as he hit the second step, and turned around, eyes searching the landscape until they landed upon her. Claudia was still rooted to the spot about 15 feet away from the stairs he was already partway up. Artie contemplated for a moment the idea of just boarding their next flight and waiting for her to follow, but he sensed that this was one of those rare times when he shouldn't wait until they had privacy to be a little more hands-on. He launched his bag onto the plane and then turned back for his traveling companion, who by this point had gone fairly pale.
"Come on," he said gruffly, as he reached a hand out to grasp hers supportively.
"That's smaller than the tin can I had to take to Denver," Claudia replied, shaking her head wide-eyed. Really? Saving the world, no problem, but a small aircraft scared the teen? Artie rolled his eyes in frustration.
"Claudia, I don't have time for- listen to me, we have got to stop MacPherson. The world can't afford for us to take needless risks to accomplish that goal. It's safe, you're safe." He watched for a moment as fear warred with logic in her eyes, before she finally moved toward their flight, her hesitant steps melting into a hurried jog as her confidence grew. Artie smiled to himself as he watched her thunder up the steps. Her confidence wasn't in safety records or pilot experience or anything concrete; she had confidence that he could be trusted with her life, even when she wasn't so sure of what he was asking her to do. Artie stepped up the pace to catch up – and ran headlong into Claudia not three steps past the passenger door. He didn't really blame her. Mrs. Frederic's private jet was a thing to behold. Gulfstream jets have a high-class reputation in the first place, but Mrs. F had made some nice changes. The four seats were still in pairs facing one another with a table between each pair, but the upholstery was more overstuffed, like sinking into an inviting recliner, and the electronics nearest the sofa had been geared more toward entertainment than business, with a fairly respectable television and sound system.
Artie smiled when he opened a storage compartment to stow his bag. Somebody, no doubt Leena, had thought to give Mrs. F. a bag of necessities for the weary pair. Claudia would feel more calm once she was settled on the sofa in her own pajamas, with her favourite movie. He grabbed her sack of goods and pressed it into her hands.
"It looks like they're still fueling our plane, so we have some time before takeoff. Go get changed. Lot of work to do when we get home; we need to rest while we can." Claudia wordlessly took the bag in a sort of distracted haze, still a little taken aback by her surroundings. Artie grabbed his own bag of nightclothes and glanced at the closed door. If he was quick, he could probably change clothes before she emerged. But of course if he tried, this would be the one time he got his foot caught in his pajama pants and fell on his face, he thought as he discarded that idea. Instead he set to taking out linens for the fold-out sofa, relocating the blankets and pillows from overhead storage to an easier-to-reach cabinet for later.
When Claudia emerged, he grabbed his bag with a semi-communicative grunt, and slid past her toward the washroom. Claudia watched him disappear into the closet of a room before she sat down timidly on the sofa across from the television, relaxing as she sunk into the cushy furniture. This was nicer than she'd expected, she observed as she gave in to her weary body's demand to lay down and stretch out. Just as her eyes slid closed, however, she heard the click of a door opening. Claudia breathed a quiet sigh and opened her eyes, expecting to see Artie coming from the back of the plane. Instead, she found a woman standing near the front. Mentally grumbling at how badly she'd let her guard down, to not even realize the sound had come from the entirely wrong direction, Claudia sat up and eyed the woman warily.
"Where's Artie?" the mystery woman asked. Claudia's eyes cast about the passenger cabin, taking inventory of possible weapons while also considering her potential opponent. This woman was about Myka's age and height, with hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and piercing blue eyes. She carried herself as if she owned the place, and her clothing suggested someone who, even at her most casual, was always neatly dressed, always put-together and ready to walk out the door at a moment's notice. Claudia's eyes widened almost imperceptibly as she put the pieces together.
"You're the pilot," she said, more of a question than the statement it sounded like. A confident smile spread across the other woman's face.
"Well there are two of us, but I'm your captain tonight. Joanne Priest," the woman answered, stretching her right hand out. Claudia grasped and shook it. Immediately, about a thousand "priest and rabbi" jokes flitted through her mind, but she figured somebody who'd lived with that surname for longer than about a week, had probably heard them all.
"Claudia Donovan. Artie's getting changed," Claudia finally answered, tilting her head toward the washroom. Joanne nodded.
"He said he wanted the flight plan and weather reports to go over with you," she replied, indicating the packet of papers in her left hand as she sat down a little distance away from Claudia. The teen looked at the mess of information, then shot a perplexed look at Joanne, who reached for the pen in her pocket as she took in Claudia's confused expression. Flashing back to the day when she'd begun educating a very frustrated Artie on the finer points of aviation shorthand, she used her pen as a pointer and walked Claudia through the concisely-formatted plethora of information.
Joanne registered the teen's nervousness, but at least Claudia was less agitated than Artie had been when he'd first demanded to understand the printed information that explained why the flight had been two hours longer than he'd anticipated. She'd been almost certain that her snarky remark about headwinds and a certain windbag of a passenger would cost her her job, or at least a week's pay, but instead it seemed to put the grouchy agent at ease. It was then that she'd realized that Artie was most comfortable when people interacted with him in the same short, sarcastic manner that he dished out. She wondered how Claudia wanted to be approached, as she continued her explanation of the weather reports and how they would affect landing time. The girl, already asking questions about route, weather, and basic aviation theory, seemed comfortable with simple facts communicated in a straightforward but pleasant manner, but she had to be just a little wry, if she'd survived working with Artie thus far.
"I see we get the A team today," Artie commented when he emerged in his pajamas, interrupting Joanne's explanation of aerodynamics and turbulence. She glanced up and met Artie's gaze with a grin.
"Yeah, when you call for a ride sooner rather than later, I actually have enough time to rest, instead of having to bring a backup crew. Totally amazing, I know. If you'd given me about six more hours, I could have picked you up in Switzerland instead of having to stop and sleep in London." Claudia watched with amusement as Artie rolled his eyes at their captain's good-natured jab at his tendency to not communicate until absolutely required. "Hey, I heard a new one the other day." Artie merely raised one eyebrow and leaned against the wall, listening to this colleague who, while she wasn't close like Leena, obviously was on good terms with the elder agent. "A priest walks into a bar," Joanne said, letting that hang in the air for a beat before she continued with a straight face. "Bartender says, we don't serve pilots here." Artie groaned, but smiled at the absurd joke.
"You know, Joanne, someday you're going to get married," he said as he picked up the packet of papers Claudia had ended up holding. "Then you won't have that name to poke fun at anymore. Then what are you going to do to amuse yourself?"
"Make fun of you," the woman shot back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Claudia snickered at that, in spite of her attempt not to. "Weather reports look good," Joanne said, shifting gears back to business mode. "We're going to get some headwinds off the Atlantic coast, which will probably blow our landing time, but not by a whole lot... 10, 20 minutes maybe. Other than that, we should have the usual shaking and bumping, but nothing major. Should be a pretty comfortable flight for you both. Oh, and Leena packed you guys a snack in the galley. Claudia, you want to go rummage for it? There's a lot in there, but it's labeled."
"Sure, no problem," Claudia said as she stood and made her way towards the front of the plane.
"She okay?" Joanne asked Artie.
Artie threw a confused look at the woman and shrugged in reply to her question. "She's got a lot of worry on her mind, but if I try to tell her what to do with it, she kind of shuts down, just agrees with everything I say, and believe me, that is not typical Claudia."
"Maybe talking about it is her way of processing and analyzing it so she can deal with it on her own," Joanne suggested. "Maybe instead of solutions, she simply needs an ear to hear and a shoulder to lean on. She seems like she's got a good head, after all." Artie nodded at that assessment of his young assistant. "Try listening and mirroring what she's saying," Joanne advised. "If something sucks, say so, but don't tell her to fix it. Just let her know her feelings aren't wrong. I'd just about bet money that if you were to do that, she'd be able to figure out how to deal with it all on her own."
"That is so entirely pointless, not solving problems as they're presented," Artie said.
"Really?" Joanne said, shooting Artie a frustrated look. "Gee, it's hard to imagine how somebody hasn't snapped you up yet. She's a girl, Artie."
"You're a girl, and you don't just want somebody to listen and agree with you!" Artie said, forcefully but quietly, his confusion and annoyance showing.
"Just give it a try," she replied. "If it doesn't work, then by all means, go back to your way of handling her." Finally Artie nodded, accepting the woman's advice. "She seems like a nervous flier," Joanne continued, shifting topic slightly. Artie nodded again.
"Not very experienced," he added by way of explanation.
"Yeah, I guessed that by her questions... very curious, but very basic things. She wasn't even quite sure what kept the aircraft aloft. If she has questions or concerns, let me know. You can even send her up to the flight deck when I'm not busy, if she wants."
"She needs to sleep," Artie said.
"Artie, you barely sleep on a plane. How's she going to manage it?" Artie rolled his eyes at the woman, but didn't answer, since Claudia was already returning with a container of mixed berries. He smiled warmly at her. Leena had done a great job preparing this space for their return flight. A snack before bed would do them both some good.
"Like I just told Artie," Joanne said, turning her attention to the teen standing in the aisle, "I'm going to close the door so you have some peace and quiet back here. But if you have any questions or concerns, just hit the intercom button and I'll answer. We're about ready to do our run up and then we'll be in the air shortly." With that, the woman stood back up and slid past Claudia toward the front of the plane. At the doorway she stopped and turned back to her passengers. "Oh, Artie... you can go ahead and make up that bed now if you want. It's going to be smooth takeoff; it'll be fine." Artie nodded in reply, and Claudia watched the woman disappear into a sea of well-lit switches and gauges before the door closed, leaving the two of them alone again.
Artie pointed Claudia at a forward-facing seat in the private jet, then hurried through making up their beds, sliding into his own rear-facing seat with just enough time left to buckle up and grab his nervous companion's hands across the table before he felt the familiar acceleration down the runway. Claudia's fingers tightened around his as the cabin rocked slightly, and Artie tried to will the plane into the air faster, before her vicelike grip did any damage. Takeoff always made Artie think of a goose toddling this way and that, getting a running start and then springing into the air with the first few rough flaps of its wings. Apparently, however, it made Claudia think of twisted metal, smoldering upholstery, and the same two-minute bit of information being repeated on CNN for 20 hours straight. Once the worst of it was over, Artie turned loose of one hand and rummaged for the snack he'd seen her tuck into the storage compartment under her seat. Claudia smiled gratefully and reached for a small handful of berries, finding courage to let go of Artie's other hand. She quietly munched on a few grapes and strawberries and Artie followed suit. A talk was coming, but if she wanted to wait a few more minutes, they could wait.
"Nice place," she commented around a raspberry. Artie nodded in response.
"Once we get to cruising altitude, I thought we could put on a movie. Whoever packed your pajamas..." he muttered, rummaging around for a moment before producing two movies. "We have The Goonies, and The American President." Claudia frowned in thought, reaching for the second movie.
"I think this is Myka's. I've never seen it... only a few bits. It was kind of cute... I think I could fall asleep in front of this," she finally decreed, handing the movie over to Artie. He nodded his approval and launched her choice onto the sofa-bed before shoving the other movie back into the bag it came from. He allowed the quiet to continue for a few more moments before deciding it was time. Claudia was so nervous, he knew she would stay put until she was told she could take the seatbelt off, so he had a captive audience for once. And even if she did get up, there really wasn't very far to run in the plane.
"So why did you run? Why didn't you just trust me?" he asked. Claudia glared at him with a wrinkled nose, as if she'd seen or smelled something distasteful, but Artie merely peered into her eyes, standing his ground. They were going to talk – she was going to talk.
"Leena and Mrs. Frederic had evidence suggesting that I... I helped MacPherson break into the warehouse," she answered. Artie turned his gaze to the berry bowl still between them. Her voice sounded weak and timid, but in her eyes, all he saw was... he wasn't sure, but it definitely wasn't timidity. Rage was more like it. When he looked back, her face was downcast, arms wrapped around her middle in that way she tended to, when she felt insecure. It was how she comforted herself, Artie suddenly realized, instead of allowing herself to depend on anybody else. He studied her for a few moments, munching blueberries as he pondered.
"And when faced with that evidence, you expected me to believe them and to force you to leave. You thought it would be easier if you left on your own, without having to hear any of that from me." Claudia's eyes snapped to his almost instantly. She hadn't expected that. "I've been reading about... about how foster care affects kids," he explained. "You've lived half your life just waiting for the moment that you're not wanted anymore, that you - you have to move along to the next place. That's why you get scared when I raise my voice. It's why you ran. It's probably why you keep a bag packed in your closet, where you think nobody sees it –"
"You go through my things?" Claudia shrieked, not caring that she'd interrupted what was otherwise a fairly sweet, if a tad creepy, analysis of her greatest fear in life. Artie put a hand up to quiet her.
"Claudia, Pete's chore is vacuuming the house, not keeping secrets. He mentioned it in passing. You can hit him when we get home." He almost chuckled as the teen bobbed her head in agreement. Pete was certain to have a new bruise on his shoulder when she got through with him. "So," Artie continued, "you didn't trust me because you expected to be gotten rid of at some point anyhow?" He sat quietly for a moment, waiting as he watched the thoughts and feelings ripple across her face. Anger. Terror. Shame. And then, almost unexpectedly, grateful relief as she nodded. Somebody had finally cracked the puzzle that was her heart. "Why did you assume I would agree with Mrs. Frederic and Leena?" he asked.
"Artie, when you're not at home, you're on radio silence, man. They had proof, and I had no way to reach you and even tell you what was going on. It's not like I had any reason to believe it was going to work out... I got totally set up, and even they fell for it, so... so why wouldn't you?" Artie cringed at Claudia's answer. She sounded so completely dejected, as if she'd given up on life entirely. He wondered if this was what she was like every time she'd had to move, growing up. No wonder nobody seemed to connect with her, he mused.
"Claudia, I – you didn't even... do you know what I went through for you just in the past week?"
"I know you took Pete and Myka to go talk to your partner's woman, who you fooled around with, by the way, and I didn't even know where you were or how to contact you, the whole time you were gone. I know you weren't there when I needed you," she spat. Artie cringed, but he knew he deserved that. He should have called and checked in once in a while; he knew that much just from those sappy movies Myka sometimes watched.
"MacPherson killed me," Artie said quietly, causing Claudia to pale, and lean back in her seat. "He blew up the umbilicus, the place is a huge mess. I used- I used the Phoenix."
"What? How? Why?" Claudia asked, still in an angry tone. Artie almost took it as a question of why he bothered to use it, but in her eyes was utter confusion. The tone was just because she was hurting, he realized.
"You," Artie answered simply. "The warehouse will go on without me. But it was worth the risk, for your sake." He sat back and let her process that. He'd hoped his answer would reach out and touch her heart somehow, and it appeared that it had, as the sour mood seemed to melt away, leaving a sense of awe in its place. He knew there was more to discuss, about that, but she was still processing that information. The questions would come later.
"And you flew to Switzerland alone," Artie continued when he got tired of the silence. "How'd that go?" Claudia's eyes widened with just a touch of fear, at the memory.
"Fine, it went fine," she answered. Artie merely raised an eyebrow at that. Claudia sighed. She knew he wasn't going to buy it but she had to at least try. "Scariest thing I've ever done in my entire life," she muttered, glancing away. Artie let her admission hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
"There are easier ways of getting my attention," Artie replied.
"Would you really have followed me for the rest of your life?" Claudia asked suddenly. Artie blinked; he hadn't seen that one coming somehow. He nodded in reply. "Why?"
"Just letting you go didn't work out too well the last time, so, why—why repeat history?" Artie answered with a glint of humor in his eye. He quickly shifted back into serious mode when Claudia shot him a perturbed look. "I know you-you don't quite believe it and that's okay, but you're stuck with me for life now, kiddo." He was right; she didn't believe him. But at the same time, he was proving it with his actions. In spite of her steadfast resolve not to let anybody into her heart ever again, Artie was starting to break through her defenses, bit by bit, and Claudia knew it was only a matter of time before she would lose the battle to keep him at arms' length.
Artie made a show of glancing over to the screen displaying, among other things, their current altitude. They'd been cruising for a little while now, but he'd wanted to push through the tough part of the conversation now, while honesty was coming quickly and easily for them both. He released his seatbelt and extended a hand toward his young companion, waiting for her to take it before he stood and led her to the sofa. They sat down and Claudia almost instinctively leaned against him, provoking a yelp of pain. She jumped back, wide-eyed, and Artie slid over into the space she'd been occupying, so she could sit on his other side.
"Sorry about that," Claudia muttered as she tucked her feet up underneath herself like a cat.
"It's all right, I'll heal," he said, rubbing the bump on his head with a wince more for the effect than because it was all that painful. "Eventually, anyway."
"I didn't know who was following me," Claudia tried to explain. Artie nodded, understanding filling his eyes. He wasn't sure why she seemed so defensive. It hadn't been one of his best moments as an agent, and he didn't blame her for her reaction to his poorly thought-out choices.
"I used an artifact to disguise myself because I was afraid you'd think I was coming after you instead of coming for you," Artie explained. "In hindsight, though... I, I sort of got what I deserved for stalking a very frightened, street-smart, very resourceful young woman, who was quite obviously hyper-aware of her surroundings in spite of the confusing nature of being in a foreign city. Claudia snickered at the way Artie described his own ill-planned actions, and he knew he'd eased her sense of guilt. "I'm glad to know you can defend yourself, even when entirely unarmed, if you should ever need to... could have done without the headache, or the running away in the first place, but I... you handled yourself very well once you'd gotten into this mess, and well, I... I'm proud of you, Claudia." She blew out an amused breath at the flustered embarrassment practically radiating from her mentor, but at the same time, Claudia had no idea how to react. All she'd ever wanted was to make Artie happy, to make somebody happy. But how are you supposed to respond when it actually happens? Artie, in the midst of his own awkward moment, wrapped his arm around her, and she understood the message. The way her eyes had misted over and her head had rested a little more heavily on his shoulder, that was all the response needed.
"It was scary watching the way security stopped you when MacPherson saw you at CERN when we went to help Joshua," Claudia said after a few minutes of silence. Artie wanted to get on her case for giving in to fear, but Joanne's words came back to him at that moment.
"I wasn't entirely sure how we were going to get out of that, myself," he said after a little thought. He hadn't been frightened in the least; rather, he was merely focused and determined. But Claudia hadn't seemed overly terrified in that instant either. She'd been alert, quick-thinking, and ready to do whatever it took. But in all honesty he didn't have a sure plan at that very moment, when the authorities suddenly swarmed around him. He wondered for a moment if his admission would work to calm Claudia's fears, or if Mrs. Frederic's pilot was completely off her rocker.
Claudia's stressed-out expression gave way to a grin. "Good thing you'd already figured out he had the thimble," she said, referring to their discussion on the flight from Geneva to London, about how MacPherson had likely made it look like Claudia had gone to the dark side.
"Well after he used it to impersonate me, it didn't take much to figure out that he might do the same to you," Artie answered. "I just wish I'd realized that before I was somewhere over the Atlantic."
"Wait, he used it to impersonate you, too?" Claudia asked, shooting Artie a serious look. "What the hell, Artie? What happened while I was gone?" Artie sighed and rubbed his beard with his free hand, not daring to remove his arm from around Claudia's shoulders just yet.
"He- I- Claudia, can I tell you the whole story after it's all over? This isn't helping either of us rest." Claudia nodded, but he could tell she wasn't quite ready to let it go. "What?" Artie prompted.
"He used it to impersonate you, too, and they still thought I was really a double agent?" she asked.
"Pete and Myka... they saw... nobody was sure what to believe or who to trust. That was his game plan, tear apart the team from within. Now that we know he'd had the thimble for a while, his plan to pit all of us against one another has already unraveled. Deception cannot survive in the light of day." Artie mentally cringed at his failure to simply listen and agree, as he heard himself explain and solve the problems that Claudia probably didn't need him to solve. Drawing a deep breath, he tried again, hoping it wasn't too belated. "They really thought that for a little while, but they trusted me when I refused to believe the evidence presented."
Artie knew there were many more questions where those came from, but he could also see that Claudia was beginning to calm down for now, that worry was giving way to confidence, and also to exhaustion. Wordlessly, he reached across the sofa for the movie he'd thrown there earlier, as he got up to turn on the television. Within a matter of minutes, the majestic opening score of the movie filled the small space, drowning out at least some of the plane's own noises. Claudia took her cues from the older agent and got more comfortable, stretching her legs more fully across the folded-out sofa, her back still resting on the sea of pillows Artie had placed against the side of the aircraft as she waited for Artie to return to his place next to her, in this makeshift arrangement of their usual Friday night position. Once he returned to his spot and wrapped an arm around her shoulders again, she allowed herself to be drawn into the movie, knowing full well that from this unfamiliar yet treasured place of love and safety, she wouldn't be awake to see the end of the show.
