(Fic) Black Edelweiss: Interlude 20

[black_sluggard]

Title: Black Edelweiss
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 1,118
Summary: Two weeks after Claire Bennet's televised leap from the Ferris wheel, the 12th handles it's first case delving into the strange world of specials. Evidence points the investigation toward a former Company Agent, a man Noah Bennet would swear up and down doesn't exist.
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full warnings and details in main post.

PREV: Chapter Twenty-Nine // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Thirty

Barbara & Tracy—Manhattan, New York; December 19, 2010

"How did the recruiting mission go?"

The words brought Barbara up short as she heard them drifting down the hallway.

She remembered reading once about how bodily acoustics effected the way a person heard their own voice, so that when they listened to themselves recorded they often sounded quite different from the way they expected. While the voice she heard was just slightly different in tone, it wasn't different enough that she didn't recognize it as hers.

Nearly hers—she knew, of course, who that voice really had to belong to.

"I'm optimistic," another voice replied. "Detective Esposito wasn't the most receptive target, but I've closed harder sales than that. Angela said that trust would be more valuable than secrets, but that leaves plenty of room for me to work. And I wasn't lying about Ryan's value, or the benefits he would see if he joined us. Both of them will see that in time. As long as one of them is convinced, I'm sure the other will follow."

And that was Bennet, she realized. She wasn't certain what they were talking about, but she thought the names sounded familiar. After a moment, her memory returned that Esposito had been the other officer who had turned up at her door with Reichardt. Knowing now about the misunderstanding that had taken place, Barbara felt more than a little guilty about her actions. Unfortunately, as much as she might have wanted to apologize for them, the thought of confronting Reichardt—or Ryan, as he now called himself—face to face still made her somewhat nervous.

Which was painfully ironic in hindsight, she realized, considering that the letter she had sent her father—the one that had brought him to New York and to his death—she had been asking to do just that.

Barbara had never intended to eavesdrop on anyone's conversation—she had only come to the station to complete some paperwork for Detective Beckett, and having accomplished that she simply wanted to go home. She tried to recover her earlier pace, hoping that she might pass the doorway where the two were speaking without notice. However, she quickly registered her failure in that from the soft "excuse me" she heard behind her, and the sound of footsteps that followed.

"Ms. Zimmerman?"

And Barbara could admit to herself that there was a part of her that wanted to just keep on walking. The conversation that was coming was something she had stopped kidding herself could be pleasant a very long time ago. Still, it would have been cowardly to simply walk away.

Turning around, Barbara managed a tepid smile.

"Ms. Strauss," she greeted neutrally.

The other woman's smile—until then a perfect mirror of Barbara's own ambivalence—quirked wryly.

"According to Mr. Reichardt, we're technically the same person," Strauss said. "At the very least, you should call me Tracy."

Tracy Strauss wore her hair longer than Barbara did, and her outfit was more business chic than the business casual that Barbara usually preferred. Though there was no logical reason it should have been otherwise, Barbara had always held the hope that, in the event she ever met one of her...sisters, there would be something obvious to set them apart. Some detail that would stand out—to herself, at least, if no one else—that would somehow definitively prove that they truly were different people. Looking at Tracy now, Barbara didn't know if disappointment was really the word for what she felt when she didn't find any...

Of course, the cool uncertainty in Tracy's expression—also mirroring her own—made the task far more difficult than it otherwise might have been.

"Tracy," Barbara agreed slowly, with a nod. "I suppose I should probably extend you the same courtesy. If I haven't been handling this well... I guess I'd always hoped that if we ever met, it would be under better circumstances."

She felt a pang of grief as she said it. Once his killer had been placed safely behind bars, the pain of her father's loss had finally begun to catch up to her.

"I can't say the same," Tracy said evenly. "Until three years ago, I didn't even know you existed."

Barbara let out a breath.

"Listen—" she began, only to be interrupted as Tracy lifted her hands.

"Stop," Tracy said quickly, with a sigh. "I shouldn't have said that. I can't even say I don't get it. I don't think I would have been very eager to meet me if I were in your place—not if I'd known what I know now. Did you?"

Barbara nodded solemnly.

"For most of my life," she said.

Tracy processed that, shaking her head slowly.

"Anyway, it's not like I took the time to look you up after I talked to...to your father," Tracy admitted. "I wasn't even sure if I wanted to."

She stopped, eyes cast to the floor for a moment before she shook her head once again.

"But I never got the chance to meet Nikki," Tracy said softly, "and it's hard for me not to regret that. I didn't want that again—I didn't want to miss having the chance to know you—but as often as Micah encouraged me to make contact, I was always too afraid."

"Micah?"

Suddenly Tracy smiled.

"Nikki's son," she said. "Our nephew. He's— He's amazing. He's so smart...and so much stronger than he should ever have had to be. You should meet him. I know he wants to meet you, if you'll give him a chance."

Stunned for a moment, it was a while before Barbara managed to respond, managing a slight nod.

"I'll think about it," Barbara said.

Just then there was a soft beep. Tracy's smile split into a grin as she gave a soft laugh.

"Speak of the devil," she said wryly, reaching into her jacket for her phone.

Tracy read the display, her eyebrows drawing together in a puzzled expression.

"Micah says he called a friend of yours to give you a ride home," Tracy said.

She met Barbara's gaze with an unspoken question in her eyes. Unfortunately, Barbara could only answer her confusion with confusion of her own.

"I think you'll find your answer right there," Bennet said behind them.

Turning, Barbara looked past the former agent, following his eyes to the figure waiting at the end of the hallway. And her breath caught, her heart beginning to race, because so much of her memory had been stolen from her, and it had been nearly twenty years since the last time she had seen him, yet she would have known him anywhere just the same.

"René."

It was never conscious choice on her part to walk towards him, and he met her halfway. And she had to reach out to touch him, just to prove to herself that he was real. She felt a little foolish for it—like some teenager out of a bad romance—but the smile that he gave her in return was enough that she thought she might have to forgive herself for it just a little.

"Hello, zanj cheri mwen," René said, lifting a hand to hers where it cradled his face. "It has been a long time."



PREV: Chapter Twenty-Nine // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Thirty

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Translation:
"zanj cheri mwen" – "my dear angel"

Author's Note: I don't even know why I like this pairing so much. It snuck up on me out of practically nowhere when I was writing Chapter Thirteen, mostly as a joke, but afterward I just couldn't help myself. I had to give them a happy ending.