femmejosephine | A few revelations

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phil

A few revelations

It was a risk to go to the gun range. She knew it. One of these days someone was going to recognize her and ask interesting questions about why the restaurant owner was extremely proficient with firearms. On the other hand, not keeping up her skills was stupid, especially considering she was armed nearly every minute of every day. She didn't carry at the gym, obviously, and if she was working the floor at the restaurant she tended not to, but other than that, always.

She tried to reduce the risk at the gun range by always going at different days and times so no pattern could be established, by using different routes to get there, and of course by always renting a gun and choosing different lanes. Not the same gun, either. Just some gun, whatever her eye landed on first. Her shooting glasses were slightly darker than normal, too, although they didn't impede her vision.

She'd done all that today too, and now she was getting ready to leave. She'd had a good day - her targets had been well-clustered, and because the range had been almost empty, she'd let herself be a little better than usual. Normally she didn't work to her full capacity because that would raise questions too, but sometimes it was satisfying to cluster the shots so tightly. She was sure that said something about her psychology since she'd given up that life and yet maintained her skills, but Madeline wasn't here to ask her about it.

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Did she believe in what Section did? Sometimes. She'd seen what some of their "enemies" had been planning and she'd agree that making passenger jets collide or releasing nerve gas into a building's air system was bad. If Section was the only way to stop them, then maybe it had to exist. She just couldn't agree with their methods, as good at them as she'd turned out to be.

"Section's ends might be just," and there was a pretty big might in there, as far as she was concerned, "but their means are ruthless. I'm not a fan of treating people like they're disposable."

"I think that's a good policy to have. It's certainly how I try to do my work." Although even he wouldn't claim that he'd always been successful. But Phil tried. In the end, keeping his people safe in the situations he sent them into, making sure they came home and that innocents didn't get stuck in the cross-fire, that was the best he could do.

"When you say ruthless...?"

"Try not to work for Section, then. You won't fit in," she advised him dryly. Phil would be a huge acquisition for Section given his skillset. They'd love him. He'd hate it.

The list of ways Section was ruthless was long and painful, and she didn't really want to provide examples unless she had to.

"I mean they are utterly willing to sacrifice anyone and anything at any time. If I didn't do what I was supposed to or I failed at something particularly spectacularly, I knew they'd kill me. Which I don't actually think is the best motivational tool, really."

"Ah. That kind of ruthless." Sounded like Hydra. Lovely, although Nikita clearly didn't approve. Which made him wonder, "What did they have on you? It's pretty clear from what you say, you didn't want to be there."

It wasn't beyond Hydra to blackmail or threaten compliance.

"Yeah, that kind of ruthless," Nikita echoed with a humorless laugh.

His question was valid and understandable given her clear dislike of what she'd been doing. She supposed she could have attempted to play happy little operative, but it wouldn't have worked, and she'd gone into this conversation trying to be truthful. But they were getting into things she didn't really want to discuss now. As much as she didn't like discussing Section (although she had avoided any specific details about it), she really didn't like discussing why she was there in the first place. She knew how it sounded to protest her innocence. Everyone did. No one in a prison was guilty. She was used to no one ever believing her. Section hadn't. Her lawyer hadn't. The judge certainly hadn't. And on top of that was the knowledge that even if she hadn't committed the crime she'd gone to prison for, she'd committed enough for Section that it might not really matter.

"Remember that photo I got?"

"I do." It was her story and he was satisfied to let her to tell it however she wanted, especially since he could tell they were heading into territory she was extremely uncomfortable with. He was getting enough for the answers he wanted to let a few more things slide. Especially considering he was moving towards the conclusion that she was more a person he could genuinely trust and not just have a casual friendship with. In a place like this, that difference was crucial.

"Everyone in Section is officially dead."

It was a short answer and it wouldn't tell him everything he wanted to know, but it was probably enough to explain why she'd stayed with Section. She would elaborate if needed, but she'd rather not. Her answer avoided what exactly they "had" on her, too, which he would almost certainly question either now or at some point in the future. She'd handle it as it came.

Sometimes, in her more contemplative moments, she considered how little she trusted anyone to believe her or stand up for her or back her up. Her life had given her no reason to trust anyone else, though, from childhood on, and that didn't change quickly.

"That would explain the grave." Although it didn't quite explain the story behind it. The reason, at least on the front, made sense. After all, Fury and Hill had gone to lengths to hide his own resurrection although he had a sense hers was less alien and more conspiracy.

There was, however, one thing that concerned him, "Was it your choice?" Something about her hesitation spoke more to anger and resignation than dedication and duty.

"No," she said flatly. "But it was made very clear to me that either I worked for them or I really would be in Row 8, Plot 30. And I have a very strong self-preservation instinct."

She'd built it as a child, honed it as a teen, and Section had been no different. She wanted to live, so she'd worked for them. It wasn't until later she realized it was no life at all, to not actually exist and to have to do things she would never have chosen to do. Especially since she'd gotten there through literally no fault of her own.

"I'm sorry to hear that. It's bad form to force people to work for you under threat. They tend to resent that." He knew that sometimes the enemy of an enemy was a friend, but that was a bit extreme. And he could see a woman like Nikita chafing, perhaps outright rebelling, threat of death or no. The fact that he was sitting her talking to her and she was telling him this, albeit obliquely, said a lot.

"I did," she chuckled. There wasn't much humor in it, but there was some. She sipped her drink again, which was a stalling tactic. Hearing him react to Section helped. She'd known it was insane, known what they were doing wasn't justifiable in most situations, but hearing Phil say it honestly helped. She wasn't crazy for not wanting to be there like they'd tried to convince her she was.

"I refused to kill one too many people who didn't deserve to die and they scheduled me to be cancelled. Didn't matter that they'd invested three years and I don't even know how much money in me. I had a bad attitude, so off I had to go."

"And now you're here." Taking a sip of his own drink, he nodded solemnly. He was willing to gloss over what had to be a painful encounter. He certainly didn't need her to spell out what they had planned, it was painfully obvious.

"And running a cafe. Must be a nice change of pace. Unless you're bored?"

"And now I'm here," she repeated. She considered his question, then shook his head.

"Not usually. I did turn out to be damn good at what they needed me to do, but I don't miss doing it. I'm feeding people - getting them one of the basics of life. It's pretty satisfying most of the time. And if I need a bit of an adrenaline rush, I go to the gym. Or the range."

"Sounds like you've made a good life. You don't miss the old at all?" He wouldn't pull her away from a good place. Not if she didn't want it, even if he though she'd be useful for what he suspected was coming. He didn't have the full picture yet, but what little he knew he didn't like. Sooner or later, he'd need to act and having someone with Nikita's skills would be useful, but not necessary.

He was probing for something, although he was doing it very nicely. He'd hit the right note for practically this whole conversation, and she wasn't quite sure whether it was because he was just that good at this or because he was being sincere. It might actually be both.

"If you're asking whether I'm permanently in retirement, no. A friend here has asked for my help a few times and I've given it."

Porthos' work was his own business, so that was all the detail she'd be providing.

"Would you be interested in doing it again if the situation arises?" It would be something to keep in his back pocket. He had other people he could call, but more would always be better. Time would tell, but even if his current suspicions didn't pan out, sooner or later, there was always need for a gun arm or some spycraft. And he needed people he could trust. Regardless of her past, or where she came from, he trusted her and that was a short list to be on.

Ah. That was what he was looking for. So he wasn't quite right when he said that he didn't want anything from her, but he was making it her choice. That was something.

"It would depend," she finally said. "My personal code of ethics doesn't always line up with the world's laws, but if it didn't go against it, I'd be willing to discuss it."

"That's all I ask. And honestly all I will do is ask. If anything comes up." He honestly hoped it wouldn't, but he was a pragmatist. Something always came up, but he respected Nikita and wouldn't force the issue. Or her. From what he'd just heard, she'd had enough of that and he wasn't stupid enough to make enemies when he could recruit allies.

"And 'no' is always an acceptable answer. I'm not here to force things."

"You're actually going to try to tell me that you're not going to blackmail me into working for you now that you know what I can do?" she asked skeptically, because if he wasn't, he would be one of the few people who hadn't tried to use her past against her. The juvenile authorities, the prison, Section, hell, even her mother. All of them had used the things she'd survived as a cudgel for their own goals.

She had trust issues. They should add that to her file.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. You just told me what was done to you. I'm a lot of things, but never one to make another person's mistakes." He leaned forward, dropping his voice a bit. He didn't think they were in danger of being overheard, but he didn't want to take unnecessary risks. "An agent bound in fear and resentment looks for any opportunity to bite the hand that holds the leash. I don't want someone like that on my team, I've had enough trouble watching my back in the past, it hurts being stabbed." Loki was one thing. Ward had been another. He'd been stabbed literally and figuratively. It wouldn't happen again.

"When I told you I didn't want anything from you, I was honest. I don't. But if you offer I won't turn you down. If you want to stay in that cafe for as long as you're here, that's where I'll leave you. And I hope that's going to be the case. But things are happening. I don't know what and I don't know who, but I will eventually. If I can handle it on my own, I will. And if I can't, I have other resources. But I'd like a friend at my back and I hope we're still at least that."

She had definitely bit the hand that held her leash in many ways. But most of the time it just meant she got hit harder in the end. It hadn't actually accomplished anything. Without Michael's intervention, she'd be dead now. Section always won. Walter had told her that once - not to be cruel - just to be honest. Section always won.

She stared at Phil for a while, studying his face and his body language, watching him react to being stared at distrustfully.

"I'd be willing to discuss it if you really need me," she finally said again. As agreements went, it could have been stronger.

"And that's all I ask. I promise." Leaning back, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills, enough to cover the drinks if they hadn't been paid. And if they had, they'd pay for her next round. "I'll let you be, I figure I've given you enough to think about today and I know you just wanted to blow off some steam. For that I apologize."

He got up and started for the door.

"None needed," she said honestly. The bills would go into the delayed coffee and pastry fund, since she knew he wouldn't take them back. "Enjoy your afternoon."

She didn't follow him out, or not yet at least. Part of that was because she wanted to consider whether she'd just made a fatal mistake in trusting Phil enough to not only tell him what she'd done but also agree to talk to him if he needed her skills. Part of it was that if she did follow him, he might be justifiably concerned that she was planning to just make sure he couldn't tell anyone.

In the end, she would have Phil's back. And maybe he'd have hers.

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A few revelations

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