Gun Runner (Doc)

[Pi dArtois]

Why did people do that, Pi wondered. Actually, maybe this case was clear cut and all other instances where people became instantly suspicious baffled her. In this case, with this man, maybe she wasn’t so surprised, and hadn’t been for this whole conversation. Although, right now she wondered why people insisted on making things so convoluted and complicated. Could something not just be, exactly as it appeared to be? Why did people always look for an ulterior motive as if people lived in a soap opera with continuously ridiculous twists and turns that pulled their characters in bell curve like emotional roller coasters. Pi couldn't fathom wanting to list along a tight rope of expected betrayal and unsurprising disappointment. She’d made a decision to protect the security of the d’Artois building and as a consequence alienated and irritated the two people that decision directly impacted.

But she didn’t seek to exacerbate the issue, or feel any urge to dredge up the past, pull it out and pick at the scab (although, she willingly would if questioned).

His question challenged Pi to say something that would upset this somewhat tenuous balance they had achieved by him coming at all. Would it be better to ignore his blatant question or attempt to gratify it with an answer neither of them would be happy with? Was it so horrendously dull of her, that the real truth of the matter, is that she had a gun, he wanted it, so she was giving it to him? So many questions and she had no good answer for any of them.

For a moment she considered the likelihood she had those ulterior motives and had just failed to recognize them in herself. Then shook her head. No, if there was something she knew about herself is that she was rarely complicated or deceitful. She lied, everyone did, but it was usually for self protection or common sense. No human should tell the truth all of the time, it was an unnatural thing and life required a balance of surety that people would be blissfully ignorant and despite their own assumptions otherwise, were quite happily living their lives in ignorance.

In the shaking of her head she let it indicate to him, a negative answer before speaking. No, she had no good answer, no ponderous truth to iterate to

“No, I was being polite.. the gun is yours. I have nothing else.” Making herself comfortable on the desk she scooted back, pulling her legs up so she sat with them crossed underneath her, like a small French Buddha perched atop a modern setting in what could be an artists rendering, labeled something superfluously artistic like ‘Modernistic religious irony’. Instead she was, gladly, just one woman, sitting on a desk talking to ‘somebody that she used to know’, who would, when it was done, go for a swim.

Elliot was right, about this at least. Where did it say you had to lose your humanity or what as essentially you when you became this. Why couldn’t she be happily boring and blissfully uncomplicated. Her decision to oust Spike and Doc was unfortunate, but it was hardly the first brick in a diabolical plot to take over the city and become the female Napoleonic Overlord of Canada. Her mental meanderings made her grin and that grin was turned directly at Doc and she shook her head again, amusement lingering in the tone of her voice.

“I know you don’t need help.. but it seemed the right thing to say. I really have no ulterior motive, no intention to try anything or… whatever.” Her motives were so mundane she was having issues attempting to formulate evil ones as examples of what she wasn’t doing. “I had the gun… you wanted it, and I’m glad to give it. There is nothing more than that. If I have something else you need later… when I post it on the family board, let me know… and we will do this again.”

Waiting patiently she rested her hands in her lap, French Buddha in waiting, or maybe, just maybe, a French woman, who was finally figuring out that it was okay, blissfully, and amazingly okay, to just be… a woman. No frills. No gimmicks. No insane need to save the world, but a very average, very normal expectation to just.. be. Her smile widened.

[Doc]

Pi’s face reflected a look of genuineness and truthfulness. But he was still wary. That was the same face that had so effectively lied to him, when he was a human. But there was something else about her. A type of resolve, a set to her shoulders that said, ‘believe what you want, it won’t change the facts’. He watched her for a long moment after she finished speaking. He decided he would take her at her word. It was time. Time enough to try to get past their ‘history’.

The gun was his, no strings attached. Doc nodded slowly. “Thank you for the weapon. It is appreciated.” Etiquette dictated that he should reply in kind, some sort of platitude that would have a vague meaning of caring. But what would be the point? She would know he was only doing it to be polite. She more than likely wouldn’t believe him, anymore than he would believe the words if he uttered them.

Deciding not to lie, and say something he didn’t really mean, he inclined his head respectfully to her, “I will see myself out.” He shouldered the bag, and made his way to the exit. Absently he thought had to admit the meeting had not be that onerous. It could have been worse. A lot worse, but in reality it had been mostly painless. She hadn’t had an ulterior motive, like getting the tome back. Porter wasn’t hovering the background ready to do her bidding. She hadn’t wanted to try to pick his brain about attacks on the family, trying in her way to get him to convict their guilt. She hadn’t said anything untoward about Catherine.

[Pi dArtois]

That hadn’t been so bad, she thought, watching as Doc left. Not that bad at all. There was a while to go there, work to be done to build up a trust that had never been present, not from the first day of his turning, or rather.. not since the morning prior when he had found out just how big a lie she was.

But it wasn’t hopeless either. She didn’t feel like she was beating her head against a brick wall like she’d felt when dealing with her blood thief childe. Now there was a relationship that could never be fixed, and a tie she had needed to cut in order to give them both peace. No, it hadn’t been so bad at all, and maybe, with a bit of work from the both of them, they could find a way .. not to be a statistic of events that had been, incidental of decisions both of them had made.

Pi sat there on the desk for a little while longer. The soft gurgle of the pool pumps called her to her and made her want to strip off the casual pants and tank top she wore to dive easily into the water. But she didn’t, not yet.

Instead she looked around the inside of the office, the space now so much bigger than it had been when she’s first opened the Office of the Under Secretary. Here too was something that sat waiting for her to give it life, something with potential that only needed a vision to see it reach that potential. She knew it, knew it could be something, but had yet to find the drive to make it happen.

She felt different about that potential though, something nebulous and unfurling. All things would happen in their time, and at the time they were always meant to happen. Her and Charles would resolve their issues, or they wouldn’t and only time and effort would see whether that potential took shape that was of benefit to them both.

The same could be said of this room and this space. Finally she lowered herself, leaving her flip flops on the floor by her desk she padded barefoot to the pool, yanking the tank over her head and placing it carefully on the low wall dividing the pool from the gymnasium. The shorts joined the top only after she stood by the pool, the water causing light ripples to play across her skin.

With an ease born of practice Pi dove into the water, slicing through the still surface with sleek form. Breaking the surface she fell into a rhythm, her arms moving with comfortable strokes. She no longer needed to breathe but form required the movement of her head, and she gulped unnecessary air because this, the fluid play of muscles, movement was a form of methodical relaxation.

Her and Doc would find their easy space. She hoped.