Person of Interest ficlet (Stanton, Carter) (seeking input)

[rose_griffes]

Trying to write creepy Stanton-Reese gen fic, and not doing so well. So this is an attempt to explore Stanton's voice with someone else. Not cross-posting this anywhere.

characters: Joss Carter, Kara Stanton (imdb.com spells Stanton's first name with a C, but the Machine spelled it with a K -- and the Machine is never wrong)
spoilers: through 1.20
note: Kara refers to herself by her first name in this; she has no reason to keep the last name she used with the CIA. (Works for me, anyway. *shrug* After all, it's been two years since, y'know, spoilery stuff happened.)

The last rays of evening sun barely filtered down to the sidewalk. Kara opened the door and stepped inside; the bar seemed too dark at first as her eyes adjusted. After a moment she spotted her. The detective had one leg extended, the tip of her toe almost touching the floor--like she was ready to spring off the bar stool at any moment. Which was the point, Kara assumed: no true relaxation. Surveying the crowd was another habit Detective Carter had, even though the bar contained lots of other police personnel.

Kara knew the moment the other woman spotted the tell-tale bulge under her jacket. No alarm in her reaction, since this place was likely to draw off-duty cops; just a an increased awareness of her as someone carrying a weapon. Kara walked to the counter and sat two seats down from Carter, who glanced at her through the mirror behind the bar.

Kara wondered what she saw. Sometimes she didn't recognize her own sharp features anymore; the image didn't match what was within.

Time to get started on her reason for being here. "Bad day?" Kara asked, indicating the half-empty glass of beer.

"Bad enough." The detective's voice had a careful tone, unconfiding. Not the type to drink and tell, then.

"Brandy, please," Kara told the bartender when he approached her.

"Hard to do two jobs at once," Kara said. Carter turned her head and raised an eyebrow.

"Snow couldn't decide if you were helping John or working with the FBI. I figure you're working with John, though."

Carter went still, her expression shifting as she re-examined the potential danger Kara posed.

"Oh, I don't work for Snow. Not anymore, anyway." Kara watched as the other woman's eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise.

"You're looking lively for a dead woman." The detective took a drink and then bared her teeth in a fake smile. "I was wondering if Snow lied to me, but I didn't expect to meet the evidence of that lie in person."

The bartender came back with her drink; Stanton took a sip of the brandy. Carter looked like she had a dozen questions, but rather than talking, she studied Kara's face.

Kara's turn to talk, then. "Like I was saying, it's tough to do two jobs at the same time." Carter didn't answer that, so Kara continued. "John was always a better soldier than spy. I can see that in you as well."

Carter's expression alternated between amused and pissed-off, but she still didn't admit anything. "And you're a better spy."

"Always," Kara told her. That hadn't made her any less expendable, though. Two years of barely living, of putting together the pieces. Time to find out what Reese could tell her about that mission, now that she knew he was alive. She wouldn't stop until she had enough puzzle pieces to make sense of it all.

She swallowed the last of her brandy. Time to execute her mission; she needed to get Carter to trust her just enough to pass along her message. "Did Snow tell you that John killed me?"

Carter decided it was a safe enough question. "Yeah, he did."

"We both had orders. Reese couldn't do it, but I could. I shot him."

Carter's eyebrows went up again.

"Obviously I didn't do it well enough." She let a rueful look cross her face. "But if anyone has a reason for a grudge, it's him, not me."

Kara stretched her arm out and put a piece of paper next to the detective's drink. "I need to talk to him, though. Not looking to hurt him; I just want some information."

Carter glanced at the paper; Kara had written a phone number on it. The detective didn't touch it; instead she looked back at Kara.

"You know what Snow told me about him?" Carter chose not to use a name for Reese; interesting. Kara could guess what things Mark had said, but she let the woman talk anyway. "He said he was a dangerous man. So what does that make you?"

Even more dangerous, Kara thought. Shrugging, she said, "Someone who likes playing with fire." She stood and put a bill on the counter to pay for her brandy. "Enjoy your drink, Carter."

Their eyes met again in the mirror behind the bar before Kara turned to leave.

Totally open to constructive criticism right now, by the way. In general, if there's something you've been dying to say about my fic, or about this ficlet in particular... Or any thoughts you have on Stanton, since she seems to be my stumbling block right now. (Maybe it's Reese, though. Or the scenario. Or meh, I hate writing.)