[Not-so-merry prankster] Steve: Innocence is overrated based on what you haven't done

[girlsolo]

They let her go with less than a slap on the wrist. More of a slap in the face. Community service. Fine, whatever. It's an insult, in a way. It's also exactly what she needs. A slap in the face. Wake up, Freelander. This isn't a dream. It's not going away. A slap in the face. For being a brat and acting out. A slap in the face. Look at your life, look at your choices. Where's a girl's sassy gay friend when she needs him.

Not being sassy, never gay, and sleeping with the boss. That's where her not sassy, not gay best friend is.

Kate sighs, adjusts the ugly ass bag on her shoulder and tucks her hands in her pockets. It's a long walk from IPD to the little house on the beach, not prairie, even if there's a cheerful dog waiting to greet her. The walk will do her good. Maybe her cheek will stop stinging by then. Maybe her heart will.

She doesn't mind Will selling her out. She's kind of glad he did. It's a way to get straight, make good, and keep her pokerface at the same time. It's not that she cares. It's not that it matters to her. She just got caught and now she's got to pay the price and pray that it's enough. Yeah, she's in kind of a Melissa mood and she'd pretty much kill for her iPod.

The tracks in her head have switched from Melissa to Dessa by the time she gets to the hut on the beach. Her little canine pal is there, barking and wagging his tail. She smiles and crouches to pet him, in case they take away visiting privileges. Damn dog is one the only good things about this island. "Hey, pal. At least someone's glad to see me."

*Title and lj-cut lyric from Dessa's Dutch. Internal reference, Melissa Etheridge's Chrome Plated Heart.

Comments

[newkindofcop]

Steve's reaction is a small raise of the eyebrows, but he has to expect that she's going to peg him as easily as he had earlier, especially the longer the conversation goes on. "Former SEAL," he corrects, but it's a small relief that she knows what she's getting into. "It's been a long time since I was in it, but some things you just don't completely forget how to do."

Like spar, for example, and he can still hold his breath for a fairly decent amount of time. It's helped, lately, with the diving he's been doing. He smirks slightly, shaking his head at the expression on the puppy's face as he gets his belly rubbed. "That one's a hopeless case, I'm thinking."

[girlsolo.livejournal.com]

"Thought so." Kate smiles and it's a pretty guileless expression. She's tired now, it's been a long day of talking, and this isn't where she wants to be. "Mossad, SAS, SEALs, for someone who knows what they're looking at, you guys are as obvious as an Indian girl in Kansas."

She glances down at the warm, wiggly mass of puppy in her lap and then her smile amps up a notch. "Or a puppy who wants a tummy rub." Bending over him, she gives him another talking to. "Don't listen to that. You're not hopeless. You might even turn out to be right about me."

The cocky confidence of the old Kate Freelander slides into the relaxed ease of the new one. Her chin comes up, gaze meets Steve's, solid. "He is right about me, for the record. No one needs to lock their shit up because of me. But--" Kate shrugs, casual and loose. "But if they do, I might call it a good deed. They trust too much. They're careless. I could have done much worse, if I wanted to, and there's a lot worse out there than me."

It's not an excuse, no attempt at an excuse. She actually feels like herself, Kate Freelander, Sanctuary Network, for the first time in weeks.