milliways_bar | (no subject)

When Beverly went back to work, Price commended her for "getting back on the horse" and every time she thinks about that now she kind of wants to laugh hysterically. It's been -- it's been a weird, weird week.

When the door opens into the bar, she stops short in the doorway, staring. Then, cautiously, she closes and opens it from her side. That works; she steps through and tests it from the Milliways side. Still works, and still opens onto the break room at Quantico. Satisfied that she's not going to be stuck here again, she heads to the counter. As she sits down, Bar delivers a note. And . . . a balloon. The balloon is pretty cute. The note -- not so much.

Beverly reads it twice, then sets it down with a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose with her good hand. (Her right is still bandaged, though the doctor assures her that her fingers are healing well.)

"Bar, can I have a double Bushmills?"

There are things she can deal with sober, but the combination of dealing with Hannibal Lecter at work, dealing with the situation here, and finding a live bird in a dead woman's chest just. Is not one of those things.

[ooc: Usual warnings about the gruesomeness of Beverly's canon apply, turned up a little because "Su-Zakana" is a hell of an episode. Let me know if you'd rather her work not come up.]

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"Yeah. And he's probably right." She shakes her head; her lips are pressed in a thin, crooked line. "He's worth listening to."

Ava sips her cocoa, casting Beverly a small smile.

"I am listening to him." (Not exactly.) "But ... I didn't exactly go looking for Lecter either time. He wants to talk to me, for whatever reason. And this is a small place."

"Listening to him isn't the same as doing what he says."

As she has had occasion to say more than once in the last few months.

Her lips quirk.

"I run into him in the bar, I have three options: retreat, attack ... learn. And I know I can't trust what I learn, but--

Everybody gives away something. He's burned a lot of bridges here."

Beverly looks up at her.

"And you're planning to do what with what you learn?"

"I don't know," she says.

"Whatever I have to. Which could be nothing."

"Ava," she says, turning towards her, "you are playing a dangerous game. You do get that, right? I mean--"

She waves one hand, a little helplessly. "You've seen some of what he's capable of. First-hand."

She nods.

"And I underestimated him before. I know I did."

"So did I. So neither of us should do that again. If retreating is an option, why not take it?"

Ava sips her cocoa.

"One-- I'm not sure it is.

Ad two ... do you really think he won't do anything around here-- nothing that involves you, or me, or Will Graham or Alana Bloom, or some nice person with no clue-- just because we try not to play?"

Beverly tries not to make a face, and only partially succeeds.

"Of course I don't think that." She picks up her drink.

"Then I'm not sure what the better move is here."

Ava watches her, before her gaze slides back to the mug in her hands.

"Depends on what you want to happen. Do you want to keep yourself safe, or others, or what? You want to take him down?"

"I've only known the guy for like a month," Ava says, shrugging.

"I think a plan would be premature. But ideally, in the long run? He wouldn't be hurting anybody."

"You might not have a plan when you start a game of chess, but you've still got a goal."

"I don't have a goal." Ava shakes her head. "Might have a few rules, though."

"Like what?"

Ava pauses.

"I think if he wanted to manipulate me, it would've been better to give up control. But I gave him chances ... and he didn't.

And he could've stopped prying about you, but he didn't do that either."

Beverly eyes her.

"You tried to get him to give up control?"

"Yeah," she says, eyebrows arching.

"That's what I was talking about before. It was in small ways every time? But it was, like. Every time."

Beverly holds up a hand.

"Let me make sure I'm getting this. You gave him opportunities to not control you and he never took them, even when it would have benefited him -- would have put him in a better position with you."

And also he had opportunities to not ask about her and he instead asked about her. SHE'S SO THRILLED.

Ava nods.

"If I wanted somebody to trust me, and the first time we ever met I had them cornered in a laundry room? I'd back waaaaay off the second time."

She pauses.

"I mean, it may not have been every single time. But I noticed it."

Beverly lets out a short, startled laugh.

"Yeah, no." Looking thoughtful, she picks up her drink. "That's . . . consistent, though. The control."

"I met somebody here who said that he tries to fix people so they'll become who he wants them to be."

She shrugs.

"Maybe we're all wrong. But maybe it's one of his rules."

His real rules.

(I'll give him what he wants.

You mean you.)

Beverly takes a long drink of her whiskey, which might be why she shivers.

"I'm not convinced," slowly, "figuring out his rules will keep you safe."

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