[For Annie and Auggie] Operation: Mistletoe

[lysistrategic]

Eight days. Joan has been here eight days, long enough to celebrate Hanukkah if she did, which she doesn't, and Christmas, which she does, but didn't, since it isn't Christmas at home and the one person she needs to see on Christmas isn't here.

Her thumb rubs against the inside of her wedding ring, thoughts of Arthur overwhelming her increasing uncertainty about this place. She misses him, even though they've been apart much longer than eight days for work. And she's worried about him, in the midst of the Operation: Lynx crisis without her there for support.

She worries about Annie, as well, and Auggie who probably doesn't think she'd even noticed the smoldering fuse he'd been hiding the day she arrived here. Her other operatives may have been in less immediate danger, but without her there, that may not last. Especially if Jai moves in on her job in her absence. He'll squander personnel resources with as much callous disregard as he did her budget and destroy Arthur's faith in him as well.

It's funny, but not funny enough to make her smile, that she worries more about Arthur's heart than Jai's treachery. Arthur will take care of her people in her absence. But who will take care of Arthur?

Her lips press tight together at the thought that Geena or Petra might move in to take her place as wife if she's gone too much longer. The books on the bookshelf mock her as her fingertips move across it - nothing useful about this place, or intellectually interesting, just row after row of romances, some of them erotic enough to be fun under difference circumstances but most of them just a reminder that whether this place is real or she has been captured or she's in a coma or dead, she may never see Arthur again.

Which, Joan realizes, is precisely why anger at Petra or Geena is a better turn of thought. Anger is stronger than fear, and anger can be exorcised. She spins away from the bookshelf, intending to be rid of this ridiculous dress and shoes and find some way to run or at least take a brisk walk to cool her temper.

She spins - and is stopped so firmly in her path that she immediately grabs a book to smash into the face of whoever's grabbed her. But there's no one. No explanation for why she can't move. Her heart slams against her ribs, but Joan forces herself to breathe calmly and take stock. There are other people in the room, reading, talking, and none of them paying the slightest attention to her. None of them seem stuck.

Head cocked, Joan rubs a hand over the side of her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a bundle of green with waxy white berries and a red ribbon overhead. She snarls to herself and spits out, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

A few people look up and start forward to offer their help but she holds up her hand. If this is a psych test to see if she will cheat on Arthur when it's expedient to do so, whoever's administering it will be sadly disappointed.

Comments

[theblindguy]

The stop they make in the Compound wasn't supposed to be a long one.

After a late start that morning (something Annie blames on him), neither had actually felt like cooking. With the daily meals this place always has, it's not hard to assume they'd be able to find some kind of leftovers if they looked. They're making their way down the hallway toward the kitchen now - arm-in-arm, as usual, even though at this point, he doesn't really need the guidance- when he hears it. Before he even realizes he's doing it (or even why), he stops mid-step, just short of the rec room's door, abrupt enough to stop Annie right along with him.

There's a voice (an angry sounding voice, no less) that pierces through the usual white noise of this particular area of the Compound, and he's sure it's coming from the room they're just about to pass. It's a voice he hasn't heard in months. A voice that's so out of place here that he immediately wonders if he's somehow mistaken, that he's hearing things or it's someone who just happens to sound similar.

"Did you hear that?" he asks, glancing over toward Annie's direction.

[farmgrown]

"Hmm?" Annie's mostly distracted, lost in the routine of their early morning walk, though it seems to have taken on another meaning now - and for once, she doesn't have to feel any guilt whatsoever about snuggling up to him, although she's attempting to keep the PDA to a minimum. Some of their friends are aware of their new status, but she's never been a fan of flaunting her relationships around in front of others, and the walk they take is a way of enjoying one another's proximity without being too overt in their affection.

She'd heard the voice, but it was so faint that it hadn't registered - and she's learned, over time, that Auggie's hearing is much more attuned than her own, heightened to compensate for what he can't see, and so if there's something he overhears that she doesn't, she knows to trust him on it.

"You sure it wasn't my stomach?" she asks, swiveling to face him, her lips quirking into a grin. "I worked up a pretty big appetite about twenty minutes ago."

[lysistrategic]

Since there is no immediate threat that she can discern, Joan begins to test the boundaries of her captivity, systematically attempting to advance first a full step forward, then a half when she can't move that far, and then a quarter. All right, she can move about a quarter of a step forward. Can she turn? Attempts at it show she can rotate within a quarter-step radius but she cannot move further than that in any direction. With her feet, in any event. She tentatively attempts a slow squat. That she can do but she stops before sitting in case she is stuck on the ground. Save that for if her legs tire. Up on her toes is the same, she can do that. Her arms appear to have a little more range of motion, good to know. In all, she is not entirely defenseless if she is attacked in this space, but without the help of others in the room, she has little hope of fighting off anything significant.

Not, she observes, irritably flexing first one ankle and then the other, that this place will provide her with anything like the satisfaction of a physical attack or a head-on psychological challenge. Oh no, it is determined to be oblique as hell and wear at her like sleep deprivation.

Sighing, Joan stretches her arm toward the bookshelf and manages to snare a romance novel called, naturally, because anything else wouldn't be insulting enough, Undercovers. "If nothing else the cliches ought to be amusing," she says, voice bitten off and sharp. She can keep track of the number of errors.

[theblindguy]

"Not unless your stomach is starting to form actual words," Auggie snorts, and though he rolls his eyes in a good-natured sort of way, he's grinning.

Still, he'd been so sure he'd heard it, and he turns his head away for a moment, eyebrows knitting. He's almost sure it'd come from the direction of the rec room, but sound can travel strangely in this hallway that connects two major hubs of activity. He's just about to shrug it off - he's sure Annie's probably staring at him oddly by now (as well as a few people that pass them by in the mean time for standing around in such a disruptive spot) - when he hears the voice again. They hadn't been practically next to the rec room before, but they are now, and it's louder - more distinct - and he's sure he hadn't been mistaken before, both in where it'd come from and the familiarity of the voice.

"See? Doesn't that sound like -" he trails off. He doesn't finish the sentence, because even as he thinks the name, it's completely ridiculous to him. He takes her hand again instead, tugging her gently toward the door frame until they're standing under it, and glances toward Annie, expectantly. She's the one who can make the visual confirmation of someone they know being there, the easiest way to settle this.

[farmgrown]

"It's never a good idea to underestimate my stomach," Annie declares, not even attempting to hide a grin before she stops too, frowning visibly and mostly in thought. Hearing the voice again - it's faint, but audible now, and there's something in the tonal quality - no.

She peers around the doorframe, equal parts curious and dreading, but it's not as if her worst fears are going to be realized. It's just that it's unexpected. For months, they've been the only ones she knows from home, and while there are certain people she's starting to miss like crazy - Danielle, for example - she's also not expecting any of them to show up any time soon, as distressing a thought as that may be. Her eyes catch a flash of familiar blonde hair and she's ducking back around the edge of the door, grabbing hold of Auggie's arm and leaning in to whisper, to confirm the suspicions he probably already has.

"It's Joan," she mouths, close enough for him to hear her. "Auggie, she's here."

[lysistrategic]

The first page of the book is so insipid, Joan would throw it across the room if she thought she'd be able to reach another. She snarls inside her head and turns the page. The description of the hero's rippling pecs makes her snort so hard her eyes roll.

She shifts her weight to her other foot, cocks her hip, and glances around. No one watching her, no one paying much attention to her at--

A flash of motion at the door catches Joan's eyes. She shifts into defensive stance, closing the book and tucking it into the belt of her dress. "Well, are you just going to stand there all day?" she asks, sharp but more focused and less peevish. At least this is something to confront. "I'm waiting."

[theblindguy]

It's the reaction he's both expecting and not expecting to come from Annie. The voice had been close, sure, but it doesn't mean that it's a definite thing. She speaks again, and there's too many people in the area for Auggie to even know if she's addressing them, nevermind anything else concrete. And if she is addressing them right now, wouldn't she recognize them? After all he's learned about people who look the same but aren't on this island, it's entirely likely this is one of those moments.

"Hold on, it might not be her," he warns in an equally quiet voice so only she can hear him, before Annie can say anything else. It's not like he expects her to reveal anything, not in such a crowded area, but it's something they both need to keep in mind. Considering their covert status, one moment of misplaced trust could blow everything out of the water. One test comes to mind a moment later, and though it's certainly not anything that would prove without a shadow of a doubt it's her, it's something they can start with. Loud enough for the woman to hear him, he calls out, "Joan?"

[farmgrown]

Annie peers around the doorframe again, but the second time she isn't so lucky at staying hidden. She gets a direct glimpse of Joan standing in the room this time, beyond the initial shade of blonde hair, and there's no slipping away from her sight this time - even if all she was initially trying to do was confirm Auggie's suspicion.

"It's her," she mutters, reaching out to nudge Auggie's fingertips with her forearm, giving him an invitiation to take it if he wants before she walks right into the rec room. She can see the mistletoe hovering over Joan's head from a mile away, but she keeps a wide berth for more than one reason, even as she smiles at the sight of another familiar face having arrived. "Hi, Joan."

[lysistrategic]

All of the training in the universe can't completely hide Joan's surprise at being confronted with not one, but two, of her operatives, and one a close, even trusted, friend on top of it. Her eyes widen and her breath does catch in her lungs but she manages to hide that.

"Annie, Auggie," she acknowledges them, voice perhaps a little more pleasant than usual. She's happy to see them, on the one hand, but concerned on the other. "Are you all right?" That's a foolish question as she can see they're physically fine at least. Surprised to see her, as well, and possibly not as happy about it as she is.

Their expressions stop her from asking if Arthur sent them for her. She wishes that were the case, but they're wearing period dress, comfortably, and navigating this place like they know it. She hasn't been here long enough to develop that comfort and it's doubtful Auggie could without his sight. They've been here awhile, which makes no sense at all, unless someone's switched her people for duplicates or some part of the story she's been told is true or she's in a coma or dead or...

She folds her arms across her waist and adopts a boss's posture and arched eyebrow. "Would one of you like to tell me what's going on here?"

[theblindguy]

Despite Annie's assurances, he's still justifiably wary. There's no sense in not going over, though, and he takes the offered arm to let her lead them both over. They don't stop right in front of her, he distantly notes, and he isn't sure why. That isn't really what he's focused on right now, though, because she all but confirms his suspicions were unfounded by greeting them by name. It is Joan, not some clone with her face, and it's hard not to be a little stunned.

"We're fine," he assures immediately, a million questions already threatening to spill out. Not here, though. Not in the middle of a room he's sure they probably all have the attention of at this point. Glancing in Annie's direction, he finds himself at a loss of where to even start. What they can even say in front of people. What he settles on is a pretty vague, "It's a long story."

It's not exactly an answer he knows his boss (or is it former boss? god, this place is insane and seems to enjoy proving that daily at this point) would be happy with, but he likes to think she'd know why he isn't exactly going into details.

[farmgrown]

Going on. At first, all of Annie's worst fears - or some of them, anyway - are realized, at least in terms of the DPD somehow finding out about their relationship. She can perfectly remember the conversation where Auggie had mentioned that the Agency doesn't really have a big problem with co-workers dating; if anything, it allows them to keep secrets closer to the vest, but suddenly she's overwhelmed by feeling like the kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

Sense ultimately wins out; that can't be what Joan means, not yet. This is the first time they've seen her, and as far as she can recall, their actions have given her no reason to suspect their relationship is anything more than friendly at this point. And the fact that Joan seems to be confined to a fairly small area is telling enough.

"Normally, this place is an island," she admits, and every cold day that passes is enough to make her long for warmer weather. "According to the people I've talked to, this place changes into something different every winter, but - I guess that doesn't really solve the immediate problem of the, um, mistletoe."

[lysistrategic]

Joan taps her foot while they stumble over themselves and each other. Auggie is cautious, measured, and understandably so. Annie is rushed, guilty, as if she's somehow responsible for Joan being here and her present situation.

Fingers picking up the rhythm to tap on her forearm, Joan counsels herself to patience while Annie tells her what she already knows. Annie is always nervous when she talks to her. It's gotten better, much better, but the situation and not knowing what Joan knows already has her off-balance.

When they've finished, she smiles as mildly as she can, although in her mood and at this point, she imagines she looks more like a barracuda than anything remotely pleasant. "Yes, I'm aware." She leaves off the 'notice the Victorian dress' because while it might temporarily relieve the pressure of her increasingly pounding headache, it will help nothing.

"Let's get on with it, then. One of you kiss me. I don't care which and neither will Arthur." She's done far worse in the field, and if someone's to kiss her free of this trap, best it be someone Arthur will thank for it.

[theblindguy]

"Wait, mistletoe?" he asks, lifting a brow. Though the second it's brought up, a lot of things make sense about this situation that didn't before - why Joan had sounded so annoyed and still did, why they weren't already heading to someplace more private, and why Annie had chosen to obviously not approach too closely. Those answers did not even slightly make the situation less awkward.

Even with optimal conditions with it just being Joan and he, this would be weird for him, especially when she goes and mentions Arthur, who he would never want to be on the bad side of. Adding Annie standing right next to him makes things about twenty times worse. That Joan wouldn't realize exactly why Annie's presence just adds to it, as if it weren't already bad enough.

He knows Annie is nervous, their proximity allowing him to feel the slight stiffening in her posture and there's a noticeable guilty tone in her voice. He has a good idea of why she'd be reacting that way, and while he knows already it's hardly anything they need to worry about, this really isn't the place to go bringing that up, either. It puts a bit of a damper in outright making sure Annie'd be okay with it, which seems like something he ought to do before kissing another woman in front of her. After a long beat, he exhales a slow breath, frowning.

"I guess I'll do it, then. Unless -" he trails off, almost desperately hoping Annie gets the hint that he's waiting for some kind of approval from her without spelling it out, or for her to take the job instead if there's an issue. He doesn't care at this point what happens - it'll certainly mean nothing to him - but he'd rather not upset her in the process.

[farmgrown]

For a second, she's caught up in the sweetness of the gesture, in his simple concern for proceeding to volunteer for a thing like this in front of her, wordlessly asking her permission as subtly as he can without trying to arouse suspicion. It endears him to her all the more, and she finds herself gnawing on the inside of her cheek to try and force down the grin that's threatening to spread across her cheeks. If that doesn't give her away, she's not sure what will.

She inevitably settles for gently resting her hand on his arm, cupping the underside before her fingers sweep back to graze his elbow and she drops her hold on him altogether, nodding once. "It's okay," she quietly promises. "You should probably be the one to - "

This would normally be such an amusing situation - and she can't ignore the part where it is pretty hilarious, but there's so many undertones entwined throughout that it makes the situation way heavier than it would probably be otherwise. As grateful as she is to see Joan, some kind of authority to refer to, she can't help but wonder what it means for everything else.

[lysistrategic]

It takes exactly that long for Joan to interpret their behavior. Not only have they been here, wherever here is, awhile, but they've also become close. One might even say 'kissing close'. If it hadn't been for the completely gallant effort on Auggie's part to make sure Annie wouldn't have a problem with him kissing her, Annie's absolute (deplorable) inability to contain her giddiness and that wifely soothing gesture would still have given them away completely. Any married woman with half a brain in her head would see the signs of a romantic relationship all over them.

That, however interesting it might be, is not her concern at the moment and it suits her not to reveal that she's noticed it. Instead, she taps her fingers impatiently on her forearm. "Today, please."

Her gaze sweeps the room and the pure ice in it makes a few onlookers bury their noses in their books, but others are bolder. She lowers her voice, pitching it for Annie and Auggie, and arches both eyebrows high and demanding with the imperious let's get a move on, people cock of her head: "We're starting to attract attention."

[theblindguy]

He feels a little better following Annie's assurances, though not by much, because he still actually needs to do this. Immediately, too, because he can hear the edge in Joan's voice getting worse and he knows she's losing patience. He leaves Annie's side to stand in front of her without any further delay.

"Right, sorry," he exhales, lifting a somewhat tentative hand to her face, not because he wants this to be anything but something as chaste as he can manage while still getting her out, but because he needs it to guide his mouth to hers. Which he does a moment later, knowing there's no sense to draw this out any further with any particular attempts at being polite when he can just get it over with and be done with it.

And if he'd thought this entire thing had been weird before, it's even worse when he actually does it. Still, he fights the immediate urge to end it and lets it linger, knowing full well he's heard stories the mistletoe didn't let people step away if they half-assed it. He didn't want to do this again.

[farmgrown]

She's given her permission, but that doesn't mean she actually has to watch it - the idea alone is falling somewhat on the side of disturbing in her brain, but the reality is a little bit more uncomfortable, and she knows Auggie won't blame her if she chooses to avert her gaze right now with a small pivot, lifting a hand under the guise of scratching an unconscious itch so she can effectively block her periphery.

He won't get into this any more than absolutely necessary, but she still doesn't know when to look up and so she won't risk it yet, keeping her gaze off to one side, waiting for the sound or indication that the kiss has broken.

[lysistrategic]

Annie’s discomfort is so obvious, Joan would have to stop her eyes from rolling if she didn’t know exactly how this feels: to see someone she cares deeply for with someone else; to love someone and have to kiss someone else. The best operatives could manage it in the field, and she had, as had Arthur, but this isn’t the field and she isn’t an asset.

For all of their sakes, Joan lifts a foot - prepared either to kick if it’s a trick or step back if it’s not and the mistletoe releases her - as soon as Auggie touches her face. The hand feels familiar (and comforting in ways she can’t allow herself to acknowledge at this moment) and unfamiliar (not Arthur’s) at once, and the kiss, as obvious as it is that Auggie’s a skilled partner, is nothing but a touch of sweetness between friends for her.

It’s enough and her foot hits outside her quarter step radius. Joan takes another, but leaves her hand on Auggie’s arm for a moment. “Thank you, Auggie.” She squeezes his arm gently, certain as she can be that this is Auggie and not an imposter, and then lets it fall away again.

She waits for Annie to turn again, seeks out her gaze also, drawing it to herself. “And thank you for your discretion, Annie.” For now, making a connection supersedes the amused desire to call them both out. Let her think she’s gotten away with it for a little while; she’ll be more comfortable and Joan will get better intel for it.

[theblindguy]

It feels like it lasts for minutes instead of the seconds he actually knows it ends up being. While it isn't as though it's a bad kiss, who it's with and who it's in front of is enough to make it all as awkward as he expects. She steps away first, and he knows then that it'd been enough. Which is good, because if this place made him deepen it, the mistletoe would've proved itself more awful than he originally thought.

"Don't mention it," he replies, scratching the back of his neck as he steps back and out from underneath the mistletoe. He doesn't know if it has some sort of time frame when you can get out, and he isn't taking any chances.

The discretion comment makes him wonder if that means Annie had looked away. It made sense, though it doesn't stop him from feeling a little guilty despite having done nothing wrong. He shakes it off and clears his throat, adding, "I can't believe you're here. You know, Annie and I were just going to go get some breakfast, you should join us."

It's a casual invitation to find someplace quieter, acting like she's an old friend they're meeting up with and nothing more. He doesn't know anything about her cover, so he assumes it's the safest, most generic way to go about it. Technically, it's not completely removed from the truth either, even though Joan's still his boss first and foremost to him, and that makes things even easier.

[farmgrown]

Annie nods, not necessarily brightly but definitely welcoming, and returns her gaze back to both of their faces when Joan starts to speak, waving dismissively as she's thanked for her discretion. "Yeah, sure, don't sweat it," she adds, shrugging one shoulder.

She makes an agreeing sound when Auggie suggests breakfast - for starters, it'll give them a place to talk that may be a little more private than the rec room is, especially if Joan has as many questions as Annie imagines she does. The deeper question remains, though, and it's one that she's been dwelling on ever since Auggie showed up here with her - whether or not this is a safe place for them, as DPD. While she hasn't come across people who would give her pause, or reason to be nervous, she's kept her status secret for a reason. It helps having Auggie here, someone who knows the full truth about her, but she's getting closer with others all the time, and the deeper she gets, the guiltier she feels for hiding that secret - though not to the degree of guilt she'd felt with Danielle, who still doesn't know about her being an agent back home, as far as she knows.

"Sure, join us," she says. "Somewhere - not here, obviously."

[lysistrategic]

“Obviously,” Joan agrees and cocks her head slightly toward the hallway before she begins to walk. At home in the DPD, that would be a walk with me or an in my office but her expression’s mild and her tone stays even. Auggie’s been with her long enough, she thinks, to know the difference between the equivalent of in my office because she doesn’t want prying ears and the In My office. Now. with capitals even without the words.

The habit of being their boss and expecting them to listen to her requires caution in how they address each other until they’ve settled on a story that accounts for it. She’s reasonably confident they’ve stuck to their established covers, which means that with every click of her booted heels against the floor she is one step closer to establishing a group cover story for a task force they’re on together or were that explains why they treat her like the boss and why she will continue, for now at least, to expect them to, even if they are also friends.

“I know a place,” she says abruptly after almost a minute of silence. “The pastries are worth the calories and they make up for the ridiculous size of the coffee cups by giving you a carafe.” That is, they don’t hover and even the holograph-people that may also be listening devices, don’t have any reason to stand near. “Will that suit?” Although it’s phrased as a question, it isn’t one, unless they know of someplace better but even then, Joan would like to retain control of this little debriefing until she’s sure of a few things.

[theblindguy]

For a second, he almost feels like he's back in the office again. Which is equal parts welcome (something normal in a place that apparently lives to be abnormal) and strange.

Annie's still standing where he left her. With Joan already walking away, the purposeful steps he hears making a beeline toward the exit of the rec room, he takes the moment of her attention being turned elsewhere to take Annie's hand instead of her arm at first, squeezing it lightly and shooting her a small, reassuring smile as he does it. The touch lasts only briefly before he untangles his fingers and winds his arm around hers instead, letting her lead the way in following after their boss.

"Sounds perfect," he says, well aware that any other answer isn't what she'd be looking for. There's no place he can think of that would be completely without prying ears - not with the island changed, anyway.

[farmgrown]

"Yeah, definitely," Annie agrees faintly, thinking more about the potential ramifications of all of this. As far as everyone on the island is concerned, she and Auggie are museum girl and tech guy, respectively, and they've given others no reason to suspect otherwise. Auggie's even been honest about his military service, as far as she knows, because there's nothing about his time in Iraq that would ring any alarm bells as a direct line to the DPD.

She's jarred from her thoughts by the warm hand that slips into hers, confident and sure in a lingering squeeze, and she only has just enough time to squeeze Auggie's hand back in reply before he's pulling back to link arms with her again, in a more casual form of contact - but she can be grateful for that even now, when everything else feels seconds away from uprooting.

"When did you arrive?" she asks, just trying to set up a timeline in her head. It's an innocent question, one that wouldn't raise any kind of suspicion - definitely something one would ask of a co-worker, if not someone they knew from home.

[lysistrategic]

Joan is, naturally, aware of the byplay behind her. Even though she accepts that they are either her operatives or they are a projection of her operatives in her own mind, they may have been compromised, there may be things they will tell each other and not her, and her ears are pricked toward any sound of sotto voce communication. She uses panes of glass to keep an eye on them behind her, as well, but her people are well-trained and she doesn't expect to see or hear anything they don't want her to know.

"Eight days ago," she answers succinctly but without sharpness. It's not Annie's fault that the metaphysics of this place give her a headache. For the sake of anyone paying enough attention to them for it to matter, Joan slows from her on a mission pace to a more casual stroll and puts on a more pleasant smile, one that suggests she's truly happy to see them (she is, if confused). "Did the two of you arrive together? How long ago?"

[theblindguy]

Eight days. He isn't sure why he's surprised they didn't bump into each other - the island's big enough, even as a city, and Joan would have no reason to ask around for them. In fact, she probably did her best to blend in at much as she could, which is probably what he would've done more of if Annie hadn't found him on the beach. He'd still been cautious - still was, in some respects - but it helped to have someone who knew about him and had time already to get a decent idea of the place they were dealing with.

"I've been here since it was August here," he says. It hadn't been August back home, so it seemed important to note the difference. He doesn't go into detail about what's the last thing he remembers - that can wait. "So, close to five months now. Annie came before me."

[farmgrown]

Eight days. Annie's surprised, but only to an extent - she hadn't attempted to try and lay low upon first arriving here, but that was only because she hadn't known anyone, hadn't made the deliberate choice to do anything but try and proceed as normally as possible - but she imagines that Joan had tried to get an idea of everything, not wanting to try too much attention to herself as a newcomer, even if people seem to have a knack for identifying the latest additions in spite of attempts to blend in.

"I was only here about a month before that," she admits, without missing a beat. "Almost a month exactly, if I'm remembering the dates right, but - back home, it was after I was - well, the trip that I took to Sri Lanka, you remember, but Auggie - he showed up from a point much later after that."

[lysistrategic]

Five months. Six months. And neither of them showing a single one of their tells for skirting the truth. She begins to ask which of the trips to Sri Lanka but if she's with Auggie then Annie must've had sufficient time to get over Ben, which makes the first trip highly unlikely. This just got a lot more complicated, Joan realizes. Even if she doesn't believe what she's been told about the island, she must interact with Annie and Auggie as if it's true.

"I remember," Joan tells Annie and then adds, "We had a conversation afterwards. The night you stopped over after work. Do you remember it?" Her mind reels. If these are the real Annie and Auggie and she is really here, as opposed to any of the other insane scenarios she's come up with (which, really, are no less insane than what she's been told), then the Annie and Auggie at home might be plants...

Which is a highly unhelpful train of thought, and Joan purses her lips to cut it off. She would've known. "Auggie, when did you see me last?" It's an awkward question, but considering the pace she's driving them out of "the Compound" at and the number of people they're passing, it's as innocuous and informative as she can be.

[theblindguy]

With everything that's happened so far, this part of the island's weirdness had barely even crossed his mind until Annie brings up when she'd come from. Was Joan from their futures then, since she'd shown up on the island after the two of them? Is that how the island works?

"I haven't spoken to you since I left on my trip to Istanbul to the jazz festival over there," he explains, and while it's not something he wants to think about (and has tried not to on purpose), he is curious if she'd know what he's talking about. If she remembers after it. He's admittedly glad he'd come from before the long talk he's sure he had to sit through after what happened. "I was on my way home when I ended up here."

[farmgrown]

"This place, apparently it can take people from anywhere in the timeline of - well, their life, I guess," Annie replies. She has the excuse of Auggie's arm linked through hers to squeeze her hold a little tighter, as if through some power or force she can ensure that he won't be going anywhere, even with the uncertainty that surrounds so many of them. She's heard about what happens when people leave - one day they're here, and then the next day they're just gone.

"It didn't take us very long to figure out we had a few months' worth of time - things that he knew about that I hadn't even been through yet," she adds, as they continue walking a little further, her eyes on Joan all the while. "But apparently, that doesn't mean that the - versions of us who are there are just some weird body-snatchers. They're still us."

[lysistrategic]

It's fortunate, Joan reflects as she walks, that their jobs make them experts at dealing with information on the fly. Also at dealing with disconcerting news without revealing it. The only indication that she's distressed by anything she's heard is that her steps grow quicker and sharper as she approaches the door. She is not above wishing that this surreal dream or exercise or whatever it is will end now that she has found her operatives, and when she pulls open the door to the London snow, there is a brief moment, a tiny flicker of disappointment, one no one but Arthur (Arthur) would recognize when she is not somehow back at Allen's.

She reins in a sigh, scans the street, and turns right. There's a teahouse there that will suit. "Let's stick to what we actually know as opposed to our speculations, hm?" she says, much belatedly, as Annie and Auggie catch up with her again. It's sharper than she means to be, and when she tugs her jacket closed, she tips a very mildly apologetic look Annie's direction. "I remember a good deal more than either of you. Whatever the reason for that is, I suspect I ought to keep that knowledge to myself except to tell you that you're both still alive and well and so are the people you care about." Although the situation with Parker is not as Auggie wants it to be and Joan suspects Danielle's marriage may be in trouble, but those are details she needn't make them privy to. Not now.

[theblindguy]

The way Joan's pace suddenly changes is more than enough to tell him how Joan is probably feeling right now. It's how he felt too, in some ways, in that first month or two he'd been here. Still, he feels compelled to speak up when what she says is something he has some disagreement with.

"What Annie said is one of the few consistencies this place has had in people's stories and experiences I've heard in the last few months, and I think that's something worth noting. It's apparently been that way since the very beginning - whenever the very beginning of this place was. Some people have apparently been here for years," he explains, well aware it isn't exactly something worth dwelling on, but it's certainly nothing to wave off either. Intel from other people could be flimsy at best sometimes, but he experienced it himself - twice now, apparently, since Joan is from some time in a future he doesn't know.

That it's the only thing that could explain how Annie - or he, for that matter, in Joan's case - could be here on the island and back home at the same time does make it more compelling to believe, too. There hadn't even been a second where he doubted the Annie he knew for the months she doesn't remember, and there's been no doubt the one on the island is the same person. People could be fooled by looks (here now, especially, with this place's ability to bring people who look the same), but the way he knew her (knows everyone) can't be perfectly replicated so easily.

And how far in the past is Joan talking? Weeks? Months? Years? He's sure Annie would've reacted if Joan looked different than what they remember, so it can't be too far. He can understand why she wouldn't want to share the information she has with them - caution is just what they do. Instead, he settles for quipping, "Well, it's good to know I haven't been driven crazy back home, at least."

He glances Annie's way as he says it, mouth quirking up in a small, brief grin, as if saying he's sure she would've been to blame for that if he had been. It's certainly no time to be joking too much, but the little bit of levity is nice to have anyway. Knowing the people close to him are still fine, too, doesn't hurt. He's been thinking of them a lot lately, with the holidays coming and going.