speakveryclearly | IC Contact

[She comes home at five o'clock from a nice long day of meeting new arrivals and baking cookies, and has to sit down and listen to this message twice before she takes this call at half past five.

First listen: What on Earth do Potts and Goodman have to do with one another? Well, Mr. Goodman is a lawyer, already known to be working for both the Initiative and Mr. Pinkman. It makes sense that he would work with her too, and so of course he would execute her...

Second listen: Pepper's gone? Of course. That's just perfect. Right when nearly the whole first floor was ready, too. She probably had somewhere nice to go back to at least, not a grave or anything apocalyptic. There's no knowing for sure. However mature, Kanaya was - past tense now - just an alien child in her eyes, not her therapist or something.

Then: Pepper actually cared enough to send this guy after her so she could get the news that way instead of through an ascii cross where her network ID used to be? That's pretty touching, and she can't dishonor the intention by keeping her lawyer waiting any longer.

There's a thin thread of grief in her voice as she answers the line, easy to mask when the emotion is so familiar to her by now. The dominant tone is a polite confusion that she wishes sounded more like reserved curiosity.]

Excuse me - Miss Potts left stuff?

What kind of stuff?

[And then there's Saul, who — though disappointed, because Pepper was competent and gorgeous — is all business, tone mostly neutral.

If Kanaya listens closely, though, she'll hear Saul quickly shuffling through some papers as he speaks. Too quickly to suggest he's completely calm about this whole thing.]

Files. They look like they should go to you. There's plans in here, some numbers for... cost estimations, I guess? I'm not sure what I'm reading.

[The shuffling rings so loudly in her ears - what does it mean? It's like a sound effect for the cobwebs clearing out of her mind as she realizes what this means. Pepper really cared...]

Are you reading papers related to the former Adelaide Morin recreational facility?

[A pause, a bit more shuffling, and then:]

Ah — yeah. Yeah, that's it. I didn't know about this; I was working with her and Tony on Contrast Mechanics stuff, mostly. This is news to me.

[Thinking back for a pause, and the memory makes the corners of her mouth turn down on the other side of the line.] She wanted it to be separate from Contrast Mechanics when I brought the idea to her, so that makes sense.

[She taps the surface of her tablet a few times, beginning to bring up her own files in Exsilium Notepad.]

[Well, that certainly explains it. Saul thumbs through a few more sheets, then gives up.]

Should I just bring these to you?

[She thinks about it.

And, you know what.

She doesn't get to keep mementos of the people who leave her very often.]

Yes. I'm in Unit 505.

[She'll answer the door for him in a long skirt and T-shirt - exposes her stupid shiny skin even more than the party dress.]

[Ah. They're almost neighbors.

Saul's over at her door in a flash, the stack of papers tucked neatly under one arm. As soon as she answers the door, he offers them to her.]

Special delivery.

Thanks so much...

[She accepts them with a grateful nod, hugging them tight to her chest. She doesn't seem to want to let Saul in to the unit, however.]

I--I'm not sure what I'm going to do without her, honestly. It had been very nice to have someone who could be the face of the business. [A slight turn of her head indicates the rest of the thought: Less Like This]

I'm not sure what Tony's gonna do without her.

[That's what Saul's most worried about.

He watches Kanaya, then arches an eyebrow.]

I don't see the problem.

[...oh right. That guy. She'd wanted to solicit him for materials but... maybe she should wait.

Mr. Goodman doesn't see it, though, and that makes her feel better but worse at the same time. There are nice men like him out there. Maybe... she's too insecure after all? Hahaha. Yeah, right. There's never an end to possibilities of disappointment and failure.]

He's very handsome by human standards. He can't have that hard a time.

[That earns a smirk from Saul, but it's followed by a roll of his eyes.]

Handsome and brilliant, but if the way Pepper kept an eye on him tells me anything, it's that the guy doesn't know how to tie his shoes.

The richest men in all societies are that way, aren't they? Just need somebody to keep an eye on them, that's all.

[Wise beyond her sweeps.]

The door revolves both ways. [She doesn't mean, of course, that Pepper will come back. That's always too much to hope for. Just that he'll replace her, pragmatically if not necessarily emotionally, out of sheer necessity.]

[He shrugs a shoulder, addressing everything she just said with one gesture.]

We'll see. You need my help with any of this?

I don't know, it would be nice... [She manages to not gesture at herself again, a small victory over her alien/adolescent hyper self awareness.]

To have a frontman, you know. You're well-known in the collective commercial circles, from what I've seen. I don't know if that's a role you're entirely interested in or if it's just what Pepper asked you to do...

Um.

[It's not really that he's not interested; he's just busy.]

This sorta thing isn't really up my alley, you know? I'm a law guy. Working for the Department and being on call for Tony is one thing, but a rec facility...

[Saul trails off, shrugging a shoulder.]

[Her disappointment is immediately physically obvious--she actually glows a little less brightly.] I guess the connection is pretty tenuous at that point.

[She clutches the papers a little closer.]

If you know anyone else who's looking for that kind of white-collar work, though...

[Welp.

Way to make Saul feel bad, Kanaya!]

I mean, I can help. I just — not the frontman thing. That should be you. This is your project.

[IT'S NOT... HIS FAULT...]

From a certain point of view... you do have a point there... [It has been from the beginning, just--] Maybe if the next mission retroactively returns the exiles to amicability.

[Of course he has a point.]

Maybe. Let's wait and see, yeah?

[muffled laughter from the future]

[Muffled sobbing in the moderate distance]

Yeah--thanks for [papers] all of this, sir, I'm sure I've kept you long enough... [#ImNotImportant]

[He almost hangs up, but:]

Are you — uh, okay? With this news, I mean. You knew Pepper better than I did.

[A long, heavy pause.]

Still not very well, sir.

[She turns away and closes the door.]

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