Who: Agent Carolina & Stefan Salvatore When: Backdated to 4/10/16 after these texts Where: Carolina's nasty dingy apartment building What: Someone's stalking Wash's stalker... Rating/Warnings: Cursing. Firearms. Blood. Paranoia. Worry warts. Status: Complete on posting!
Knock knock knock
Knock knock knock
Knock knock knock... BANG!
Carolina punched the apartment door in frustration. Even though she had not seen his van in the parking lot, she had still clung to the hope that Wash would still somehow be home. After she had received that mass text the man had gone into radio silence and was ignoring her texts and calls. She had even tried to get a hold of him through the Network, but it seemed as though he had vanished from the face of the OC.
Turning around, Carolina leaned against the door and sighed. Now what? The entire complex was quiet and his neighbors had not seen him in days. She already knew that he had not gone back to the V.A. in quite some time, so she doubted anyone there would have any leads. She supposed there was always the bars. She had found him there in the first place after all.
Kicking off from the door, the former Marine headed back to her car. Maybe there was something he had left or in the files that might give her more of a lead.
So that was Wash’s former CO? Stefan watched as she BANG’d on the door, leaned against it dejectedly, then turned to head back to her car. He knew she wasn’t giving up, though. Something about the fear in Wash’s text convinced Stefan that this woman was going to see it through to the end--whatever that may be. So Stefan followed. He slipped his sunglasses on, all incognito-like, then climbed into his own car to pull away from the curb just moments after she did.
Wash had told Stefan where his former CO lived, so Stefan assumed they were heading in that direction. He was a little concerned about his friend’s radio silence, too, but he was more anxious to get to the bottom of this. This woman was harassing his friend--and he didn’t have many of those. So he was going to do his best to put an end to this nonsense. He followed, keeping one eye on the car ahead of him and trying not to be conspicuous.
The nice, manicured lawns and picket fences of Seal Beach melted into the dirt patches and chain link fences of the slums as Carolina drove back to her apartment. Callused hands rubbed her temples as she waited at a stop light. If Wash would just answer his fucking phone she could explain herself and this entire mess would finally be over.
She flicked her eyes up at the rear view mirror and frowned. Was that the same car that had been behind her at the apartments? Maybe? Maybe not. Maybe she was the one being paranoid now. There were plenty of similar-looking cars on the road. Her worry and frustration were definitely setting her nerves on edge. Besides, who would be following her? She was supposed to be the stalker, right? The thought brought a wan smile to her lips.
The light changed and Carolina found herself turning her station wagon down the wrong street. This was ridiculous. Indulging in paranoia was never a good sign, but the former Marine could not ignore her instincts and right now they were screaming at her to pay attention. So she did. Green eyes watched to see if the car turned with her. Three more wrong turns to get her back on the right road were all that she would need to make in order to make sure that she really was being paranoid. She could delay her search for leads for three turns.
Stefan wasn't planning on following so close, but the other cars between started turning away. As they moved from the nicer neighborhoods toward the slums, Stefan wondered if they were headed toward her home--the place Wash mentioned--or somewhere else. He should have rented a car, or borrowed Anna's... something a little less conspicuous. His was cheap, and easily remembered.
He tried to give it a little more space between her car and his, but they came to a light and he caught up with her. Again. Stefan did his best to look nonchalant--like he wasn't watching her car. But, of course, he was. He followed her down the wrong street, as he wasn't the most familiar with this area, he had no idea where they were headed.
It was the same damn car. Carolina was sure of it now. Who the hell was tailing her? And why? She thought back to the first time she remembered seeing the car. It had been behind her after she had left Wash’s apartment, but she did not remember it following her there. Had they seen her knock on Wash’s door? What if they were also looking for the man? She had only been in the OC for two months, but Wash had been here for years. It would make far more sense for them to be looking for him instead. Perhaps they had followed her to try and see if she had information on where he was. If that were true, they were in for a very unfortunate surprise.
She turned back onto the correct route. Now that she knew she had a tail there was no reason for her to beat around the bush. Sure, she could try and lose him, but that would not give her any answers. Her best bet was to get them out of the car so that she could ask them directly. If they were smart, they would stay in the car and stick to surveillance, but Carolina was really hoping they were her kind of dumb.
Carolina parked her car in front of her building. Reaching over to the passenger’s seat, she unzipped her purse so that it would be easier to grab her Beretta. It was risky, but here in the middle of the slums no one would think twice if they saw a gun or two. Preparations done, she slipped out of the car and headed to the two story quad-plex that held her apartment. Once she passed through the front part of the gate, she headed not to her door but around the side of the building to the backyard.
The backyard was littered with more junk than yard. The edges of the fence were littered with broken washers, rusted car parts, and a scattering of other appliances in various stages of decay. There was a square patch in the middle of the yard that looked like the ruins of an old vegetable garden, but was now tilled with cigarette butts and old beer cans from the neighborhood kids who would often use the place to sneak away from more adult eyes. Considering the only entrance and exit to the yard was through a narrow path along the side of the building that hid it from most passerby, it was also the perfect place to stage an ambush.
Carolina made sure that she could be seen turning down that path and throwing a nervous look over her shoulder. She came out the other side of the passageway and quickly stepped to the side, pressing herself against the back wall and hiding herself from view. One hand retrieved her Beretta and she automatically checked to make sure that there was a bullet in the chamber. If no one appeared in the next twenty minutes, she would head back out to her apartment and come up with a new plan. If they did… well, she was going to get some answers. Whether they liked it or not.
After turning around in a big circle, Stefan wondered for a moment what was up with this woman. She'd gone the wrong way, then had to go back and take a couple of lefts to make up for the right. Why had she turned down the wrong road, and then doubled back? Maybe she knew that he was following him, or maybe this was her way of figuring out?
The woman parked in front of her building, and Stefan parked a little further down the street. He turned off the car and watched for a moment, waiting for the woman to come out of the car. Once he saw her go through the gate, he climbed out of his own car to follow, giving her plenty of space. It was a little strange that the woman didn't go in through the front door, but Stefan didn't let that stop him. He wandered back around the side of the building after Wash's former CO.
But the smell was strange. Stronger. And he couldn't hear footsteps anymore over the din of the bad neighborhood. Stefan's pace slowed just a little, giving a bit more caution as he headed to the clearing behind the building.
Carolina took a step back against the wall strained her ears to hear any sign that her tail had taken the bait and followed her. She did not have to wait very long before she heard soft footsteps coming up the corridor leading to the back where she was hiding. Got ‘em. Her smile was brief and as cold as her eyes.
Beretta firmly in both hands, Carolina waited patiently for the stalker to come into view. The moment the tail stepped out from the side of the building they would be directly into the sights of her pistol. Then she would make sure she got some answers.
Stefan had no idea that he was going to be ambushed. The best ambushes were like that--unpredictable. He stepped right past the edge of the building and into the clearing, glancing around with distaste at all the junk in the yard. Of course, he’d seen worse overseas when he was stationed in north Africa and traveled through the Middle East, but this was slumming it.
He had no idea there was a gun pointed at him.
“Stop right there.” Once the man had entered the clearing, Carolina had side-stepped to cut off the only exit from the yard. The Beretta was steady and pointed at the man’s chest. Sure, a barrel in the face was scary, but the chest was a far bigger and therefore easier target. A quick study of the stranger’s face confirmed that she did not recognize him. To her, that meant there was a high probability that he was also looking for Wash. The joke was on him; she was probably the last person in the city who would know where the damn blond was.
“You have ten seconds to explain why you’re following me.” The or else was covered by the cocking of her pistol.
Stefan stopped in his tracks at the sound of the voice. He hadn’t been expecting that. Slowly, he turned around to face the woman there--Carolina. Wash’s former CO. The one who was stalking him. Stefan raised one eyebrow at the sight of the gun, and lifted his hands in a placating gesture.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Stefan replied. “You meet every stranger who wanders through the yard with a gun?”
“People don't just ‘wander through a yard’ in this neighborhood.” Carolina’s hands did not waver. Was the guy really trying to play the innocent card? He apparently had no idea who he was dealing with. As a Marine she had seen her fair share of innocents caught in the crossfire between her squad and the enemy. They had always done their best to help anyone they found and get them to safety. Sometimes she saw them again, but it was usually on the other side of a wall as she took cover from the bullets they were sending her way.
This man knew where she lived. More importantly, he knew where Wash lived. She was not about to take the chance that he would end up on the wrong side of the wall. “Five seconds.”
Stefan glanced at the woman’s face, at the gun, then down at the ground and back up again. It was as if he was weighing his options, but he was really trying to figure out how to say what he’d come here to say. Funny how he had it all planned out when Wash had first text messaged him at ASS AM with his terrified words. Stefan didn’t have that many friends, so he wanted to help protect the few he managed to make and keep.
“Would you believe I’d like to get to know you better?”
“...What?!” Carolina stared at the stranger as if he had grown a second head. Her? This was actually about her? Her eyes narrowed. He did not seem to be lying, but that made no sense. “You followed me into the slums, all the way back to my apartment, and right into my backyard because you wanted to get to know me better?”
Since moving to Orange County Carolina had only met a handful of people, most of them dreamers. She usually liked it that way. She had sworn to serve and protect her country above all else and had treated her fellow marines as family. She had thousands of brothers in arms, but rarely any friends. Friends rarely understood why Carolina would cancel dinner plans or miss birthday parties in order to take the wife of a complete stranger grocery shopping because the commissary was too far for them to walk and her husband's company had just relieved Carolina on her shift. It was her duty as the leader of her squad, but it had also been her honor.
Sure, many people she had been friends with over the years would tolerate it - even if they did not understand it - but eventually they would get fed up with her and force Carolina to state which was more important: her friends or the strangers that happened to live on the same base that she did. They never liked her answer.
Now that she was a civilian, Carolina was having difficulty adjusting to the new definitions and priorities. However, she was finding this place had let her meet a few people who did not seem to mind. She liked that and she liked them all the more because of it. This stranger was not one of them. “Who the hell are you?”
“Stefan Salvatore.” Stefan said. His attention was on her face rather than the gun in her hand, though he did note that it was still pointed straight at him. Honestly, guns didn’t provide any fear for Stefan. Not since he spent time overseas treating bullet wounds, not since he’d taken a shot to the head and woken up a few minutes later. He had no fear for his person anymore, only fear for others. Woe be to the person who points a gun at Bubbles or Anna or Wash.
He took a step toward her, his brow furrowing slightly, his voice lowering. “Who the hell are you?”
The man was not afraid of guns. Carolina’s eyes narrowed even further. He was either experienced or a professional. She doubted a professional would let himself get caught so easily. Her eyes briefly searched his form but she could not see anything that could be used as a weapon. Experienced enough to not need a weapon? He was definitely be far more dangerous than he looked. Her jaw set. She was done taking any more chances.
“Me? I’m Carolina.” Being a female in the military, a female squad leader nonetheless, Carolina had faced her share of bigger, taller, stronger men who thought they could push her around without missing a beat. All of them had gone home crying. When the man stepped closer, her arms dropped, but it was not so much of a concession as a new target to aim at.
The average police reaction time for her neighborhood varied, but a single gunshot? She had a good seven to fifteen minutes if she were lucky. More than enough time for her to get her information and get away before any questions arose from nosy neighbors. Most people tried to avoid being nosy around here anyway.
“And you really shouldn’t threaten a woman with a gun pointed at you.” Carolina squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet straight toward Stefan’s left knee cap.
Stefan really wasn’t expecting that to happen. He probably should have known better, this woman was a woman who was not afraid of guns, not afraid of pulling the trigger. But he’d been pushing his luck, not entirely sure what he was going to do with this interaction.
Then bang. Kneecap. Stefan stumbled backward, his jeans ripped and bloody over the mash of flesh that was his knee. He cursed, falling back down onto the edge of the raised planter bed. The pain was intense, but he knew he’d heal. Eventually.
Keeping her eyes and her gun trained on Stefan, Carolina reached down and picked up the still-warm bullet casing that had landed at her feet. PYB. Police Your Brass. She had drilled it into her squadmates and she did not want to leave any evidence if she had to make a quick getaway. The casing went into her pocket and she straightened, both hands back on her gun. Even though the man was down, she kept a careful distance between them so that she would have time to react if he tried to trip her or go for her gun.
“Let's try this again. Why were you following me, Mr. Salvatore?” Carolina tried not to let her voice turn into an angry growl. She mostly succeeded. There was no need to let this man know that she would be gone in five minutes, information or not. Hell, she would probably even call an ambulance for the guy as she left. Right now, she needed to focus on keeping her cool and getting the man to talk.
Cursing, Stefan adjusted himself so that he was sitting on the edge of the raised planter bed instead of sprawled against it. He gave a grunt, a groan, and turned his attention to his knee. Damn. It was a bloody mess. Thank God his own blood didn’t affect him the way someone else’s might have… but the veins around his eyes had darkened slightly in his anguish.
“I’m looking out for Wash,” he coughed out, then turned a glare up at the woman. “Trying to figure out what the hell you’re up to. Why you’ve got him so scared.”
Carolina’s gun finally faltered in surprise. A moment later it was pointed at the ground. The only people who called him ‘Wash’ were their squad and his friends. Was this guy telling the truth? Granted, she had never met any of Wash’s friends, but she did not think that they would be the type to stalk her in return. Perhaps she should have.
“Wash asked you to follow me?” It sounded like Stefan had also gotten the text at three in the morning that she had been mercifully unconscious for. She hesitated a moment more before she made her decision. Carolina clicked the safety back on the Beretta and tucked it into the back waistband of her jeans. “That was stupid of him. He should have at least warned him that I was armed.” She murmured under her breath.
Or he could have warned me so that I wouldn’t shoot his friend thinking he was a dangerous stalker. Then again, she was supposed to be the dangerous stalker right now. And damn if she was not proving Wash right. She ran a hand through her frazzled hair. There was no going back in time for her, and she did not regret firing her gun at what she believed was an actual threat. That did not mean that she was not going to try and help him now that she had both his name and his purpose.
Carolina undid the buttons to her flannel overshirt and shrugged it off. She debated moving forward to help Stefan, but considering the glare he was giving her she did not think her proximity would be welcomed. So she tossed the shirt in the direction of his lap instead. “Here. Use that as a tourniquet on your thigh. It should stop the bleeding.”
"No, actually," Stefan replied, breathlessly. The pain was pretty amazing, though it was slowly fading. The bones, tendons, muscles, ligaments and skin was already starting to heal itself. It was still bloody, on the outside it looked pretty nasty. "I think he'd be pretty pissed if he knew I was here."
He accepted the flannel and wrapped it around his leg, putting on a show of a tourniquet. "Thank you." He said, frowning a little as he performed the task. "Now you know who I am. Quid pro quo, Carolina. Why are you following Wash?"
“I’m not following him.” Which was technically correct. She had not followed Wash anywhere without his knowledge. She just happened to have a large file containing his very personal and private documents that no one other than him should really have access to. Lee had agreed to laugh in the face of HIPAA and Carolina had agreed to not tell anyone where she had gotten the files. “I’m trying to find him.” Again.
Carolina frowned at the man’s knee. Something about the wound looked off, but she could not place her finger on exactly what it was. Now that she was looking, the skin around Stefan’s eyes also looked strange. Darker? Were those veins? Jesus, was he in that much pain? The man had barely cried out when he had been shot.
“I have a first aid kit upstairs, but I don’t think that will cut it.” The man would need to get to a hospital soon if he wanted to keep his knee. Which meant that the hospital would be forced to report the gunshot wound. She most definitely was not looking forward to the interrogation that would inevitably come after the police took her away, but she would never ask anyone to lie to keep her out of jail, either.
“All right, not following. Stalking might be a better term.” Stefan finished with the knot and leaned back on his hands, giving a gentle puff of air. “I got some text messages from him I never imagined I’d get--he was… freaked. To say the least.” Stefan leaned forward to get a good look at his knee. The bullet had gone straight through, and was probably now lodged amidst a blood spatter in the pavement under him.
“No, it’ll be fine,” Stefan said, shaking his head. “No need.” He pulled himself up to his full height, resting all of his weight on his uninjured leg. “Just explain to me what you’re doing with all of that information on Wash, and I’ll go.”
“I figured. He sent it to everyone he knew - including me.” Except Wash had not returned her texts. Carolina refused to sigh. It looked like she was going to have to find another way to get a hold of him. This was far more frustrating than it had been to find him the first time. At least Wash’s mom had been able to give her a good lead on his general whereabouts.
“I just shot you in the knee cap. It’s not going to be ‘fine’ with just a kiss to make it better.” The police would probably come soon enough. One of them would probably get the idea and call for medical help, even if she did not. She did respect him for standing up with that kind of wound, though. He was a tough son of a bitch. That made her smile slightly. Wash had good friends.
“You’re not going anywhere but to the hospital with that knee.” And I’m not going anywhere but jail, so I guess I’ll just have to hope Wash hasn’t fled by the time I make bail. Perhaps Stefan could at least pass a message on to the blonde man so that he would stay in town at least long enough for her to say goodbye. ’Don’t say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.’ A shake of her head and the dream memory went back to the depths of her mind.
“You can tell him that I have his files because I was worried about him. About what happened to him after I… after our squad was deployed.” It was probably not the best time to mention that she also wanted to make sure Wash had not gone crazy, what with the stories that he had told her about this place. She nodded back to the short wall. “Now sit down. The police will be here soon enough. Their call will probably go through faster than 911, anyway.”
"It'll be fine," Stefan responded. "I'm a fast healer." He didn't want to go into all the details now about how fast, or why, but he would leave it at that. Hopefully she'd take his word for what it was; honesty. He tentatively put a little weight on it, still feeling the bones clicking back into place, the ligaments stretching over healed muscle and whatever. Thankfully he didn't need to pull the bullet out. The through-and-through was a blessing in disguise.
"No police, no hospitals," Stefan said, shaking his head. "I'll be gone before they arrive," he added. His eyes were clear now, the veins the same color as his skin again. This conversation wasn't quite finished, though. Stefan wasn't buying it. "So you did research on his whole life because you were worried about him?"
“You have a strange definition of fine.” Carolina eyed him as he stood. How in the world was he standing on that leg? The knee should have been impossible to use considering it had a damn hole in it, and yet the man was acting as if he were working out a mere sprain. Had she missed? No, it had definitely hit something. Perhaps it had only grazed him. Still, if he did not want to involve the cops, she was not about to argue the point. She definitely would not miss her time in a jail cell and most people who flew under the law’s radar would know a place that would take care of things like bullet wounds.
“I obtained his military file.” Green eyes moved back to Stefan’s face. She had done more than that. She had followed a weathered birth certificate to three different states and obtained the samples needed to verify the facts. None of that was something that she wanted to explain to anyone before the person in question. If Wash wanted to tell his friends afterward, that was his right. She would probably not be around for a second round of being stalked, anyway. “The military is very thorough.”
Stefan gave her a look. He didn't believe her. Would Wash have been as freaked out if his CO simply obtained his military file? Wash had mentioned something about school records, medical files... that sort of thing wasn't necessarily in a military file.
"And you followed him here to... what? Check in on him? Make sure he was taking his vitamins?" Stefan asked, then frowned a little. "I just have to make sure my friend's stalker really does mean him no harm. Then I'll be out of your hair."
“Harm?” Carolina growled. She could not deny that she wanted to put Wash through a world of hurt on the practice mats for making her jump through so many hoops to find him again. It was also probably not what Stefan was asking. Not to mention creating a situation where she fired her weapon at his friend. All this could have been avoided if he had just answered her calls. “No, I don’t mean him any harm.”
She cursed herself for thinking that Lee would not go the extra mile and bring her Wash’s service records and enlistment packet, complete with birth certificate and high school transcripts, on top of the medical records she had asked for. At this point, the damn files were more trouble than they were worth to her. “I want to give him a few things, but it’s rather difficult to do that when he keeps avoiding my messages. That’s why I’m looking for him.”
Stefan took a long moment to stare at her. Was she telling him the truth? Funny how the woman sounded like two shivers shy of sarcastic all the time, and Stefan wasn’t sure how much he could conceivably believe. But she seemed genuine. He took a deep breath, bringing more weight to his healing leg. He was confident he could walk on it now, even if he had to limp. There were faint sirens in the distance, which meant they didn’t have much time.
“I’ll see if I can get the message to him,” he responded. He was still cautious, but now he was fairly convinced the woman didn’t want to cause Wash any harm. “But we should get out of here.” He bent down to see if he could pry the bullet from the cement.
Carolina studied the man’s knee as he bent down. She had seriously thought she had fired that bullet into his knee cap. What the hell was going on? Her head turned toward the sound of police sirens. “You’re right. They’ll probably check for cars leaving the area.”
She debated for a moment before shrugging. Might as well offer the man shelter from the authorities. Carolina had placed all the files in a bag in her room, just as she should have done last week when she got them in the first place. Nothing else in the apartment would be of any use for Stefan to go snooping through. She would not blame him if he still did not trust her enough to be in a locked room with her, however. Being shot can do that to a person.
“You can wait for them to leave in my apartment. The police are used to the residents here being woefully unhelpful.” At least the drug dealer in the apartment below her had stopped trying to get her into trouble after she had threatened the family jewels with one of his kitchen knives.
Stefan paused for a moment to consider. His pants were torn and bloody, but he wasn’t actively bleeding. Could he convince the police officers who arrived on the scene that he was perfectly normal? After a random gunshot, and while covered in drying blood? If he had to go hide somewhere, at least he could go somewhere where he could sit comfortably. Even if he still wasn’t convinced about Carolina.
“All right.” He said. When he stood, he produced the bullet in his fingertips, and held it out to her. He’d dug it out of the cement.
Carolina took the bullet, her face showing more and more suspicion. “Jesus. What are you? How did you manage to get that out?” The sirens were getting louder. “Never mind. You can tell me once we’re safe inside. Do you need help getting up the stairs?” She picked up her purse from the ground where she had set it before the ambush. The Beretta went in the purse while a set of keys came out.
Stefan didn’t bother answering her question as he turned to follow her up the stairs. He fabricated a bit more of a limp than he actually needed, as his leg was healing more and more as the minutes passed by. But he was more than willing to follow her up the stairs to her place. The great thing about being a vampire was that he wasn’t afraid of following a gun-happy woman up into a strange apartment.
Seeing as Stefan was relatively mobile, Carolina turned and led the way back down the path and up the stairs at the front of the building to her apartment. She looked at the man out of the corner of her eye as she unlocked the door. Maybe she would be able to get a better idea of where Wash was from his friend. They were certainly in contact with one another, which is more than she could say for her own situation.
Or perhaps Stefan would keep his mouth shut. As much as it would hamper her search, Carolina started to hope that she would get nothing out of him. If she could get information out of Stefan, that meant an enemy might have a chance at obtaining it as well. Not that she was going to give up without at least trying to get the information out of him. She would not shoot him again, however. He had not given up any information because of it and Wash probably would refuse to meet her if she shot his friend even after she knew the two of them were friends.
She opened the door and threw on the lights. Except for the lack of files, the place had not changed since Wash had bolted in fear the other night. “Try not to bleed too much on the couch. Bloodstains are annoying to get out of upholstery.” Carolina’s tone might have been joking, but it was hard to tell.
“Right.” Stefan said, waiting for a moment in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, taking the weight off of his injured leg. This was insane. Following Carolina up into her apartment could be either a huge mistake, or a great idea. He could get to the bottom of things if he had a few more minutes to talk to this woman. Right?
Now, how to convince her to invite him into her home. Otherwise Stefan would be stuck standing in the doorway.
It took a moment for Carolina to realize that Stefan had not followed her inside. Turning, she frowned at the man that was still standing in the doorway. Sure, the apartment was a bit - okay, a lot - dingy, but it was clean, no matter what Wash might have thought would crawl out of who-knows-where.
“What are you waiting for? The police will be here any minute.” Carolina obviously had no idea that she was the reason that he had not crossed the threshold. Stefan had said that he did not want to involve the police, but even the most jaded cops would ask questions about an injured guy just standing in the doorway and those were questions she did not want to answer.
Stefan paused for a moment trying to think about how to respond. He wasn’t ready to give up his secrets to someone he barely knew--even though it was pretty much public knowledge on the ‘net (Thanks, Damon). As much as he wasn’t sure he trusted this lady or this apartment… though he was starting to. A little more, anyway. “You sure you want to invite me in to your place?”
“Oh for God’s sake.” Carolina could hear the police sirens’ squawk as they pulled up in front of the neighbor’s house. She should have known that the nosy old bat would be the one that called the police. Heading back to the door, she grabbed Stefan’s arm, intending to pull him inside. “Get the hell in here before I shoot your other leg.”
That was good enough for the vampire Gods, so it seemed, because Stefan was able to step right in when she’d finished her… not-quite-so-veiled threat. He broke into a little smirk, momentarily forgetting that he had to fake a limp. He moved into the apartment and glanced around. It was not a high-end place, but it was clean. So he wasn’t fussed.
“How long do you think I’ll have to hide out in here?” He asked, almost playfully.
Once Stefan was inside, Carolina closed and locked the door. She even put up the chain for good measure. Turning, she was just in time to catch the look on his face. She frowned. Considering she was the one who shot him, Carolina was not sure what to think of Stefan’s smirk. Or the fact that he seemed to be walking perfectly well in her living room. It was like he was certain that she was the one who should be worried about getting shot. If he could take a bullet and walk away without a limp a few minutes later, he might very well be right. Friend or no friend of Wash, she was starting to reconsider having put her pistol away.
“How’s the knee?” Carolina deadpanned instead as she headed to the kitchen to hide the bullet and casing. As long as they were not on her person or in plain view, the police would need to get a warrant to search her place. If she explained that the nosy woman next door had it out for her after she had given the police a not-so-anonymous tip about her son being a drug dealer, the cops might not even take her in for questioning.
“I doubt the police will stick around too long.” Carolina studied the man’s reaction to her words. “One, maybe two hours tops.”
Of course, Carolina was suspicious of Stefan. Just as he was suspicious of her. But now he was more amused than anything else, as the immediate threat of the police coming to check out the gunshot sound had faded. Now he was inside her apartment, he didn’t have to worry about getting caught healing. Though, he could absolutely compell the cops into forgetting everything about the big bang.
“It smarts,” Stefan replied. Though now she’d noticed he wasn’t limping, he didn’t bother pretending anymore. Now he was just waiting for her to start asking questions. “How will we pass the time?”
The only place to sit in Carolina’s apartment was the couch on one side of the living room. Not that she felt like sitting. No, she was perfectly content not having to take that extra second or two to get up and off the cushions. She settled for leaning against the empty doorframe that led to her room.
She had a lot of questions for Stefan, the first and foremost being how the hell he could take a bullet to the knee and walk it off ten minutes later. Had Wash said anything about his friends being a bit on the supernatural side? Carolina could not remember. She likely would not have fully believed him anyway. At least not until now. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at the far-too-playful man in her living room. “I don’t know, Stefan. Got any ideas?”
“Monopoly?” Stefan suggested. He turned to take a slow lap of the apartment toward the sofa. His knee really did smart still, though it could hold his weight--which was a lot. He flopped down onto the sofa. “...you get Netflix?”
“Netflix?” Carolina gave him a disbelieving look. “You must be joking.” Stefan could obviously see the lack of any technology in her apartment. Her phone had become her phone-laptop-television on the go so that she would have to worry about one less thing being stolen on her mission to find a certain overdramatic blond man. Considering the neighborhood she had ended up in, it was probably for the best.
After a moment, Carolina’s lips curled up in a small smile that was as plotting as it was innocent. “I do have cards, though. Do you know how to play poker?”
“I’m not very good.” Stefan admitted. He played a lot when he was overseas, but he never gambled for money. Stefan knew his failings, and he knew that luck with cards was definitely one of them. Though, he had one hell of a poker face. “But I’ve played once or twice.”
“We don’t have to play for high stakes.” Carolina shrugged away from the doorway and headed to grab the pack of cards in her duffle bag. It would probably a bit cruel of her to take advantage of one of Wash’s friends - not to mention someone who was still recovering (?) from the bullet wound that she gave him - so she did not mention money. The man had wanted information about her, so there was a good chance that she could glean the same from him. Anything that helped her find Wash again would be more than worth the one or two hands she might lose.
She tossed the box on the “coffee table” and sat down on the other side of the couch. “Let’s keep it simple. Five card draw, loser has to answer one question truthfully each hand. Folding before you pick up cards will be considered a draw. Sounds good?”
Stefan nodded, watching her with the “coffee table” and the cards, then turned his full attention to the woman opposite him. “That sounds fair.” He offered up. “Deal.”
It wasn’t a lie that Stefan wasn’t great at poker. Maybe it was something about fate and cards, maybe there was something in there about how vampires had bad juju or something. But he ended up losing the first hand without saying much while playing.
Then he raised an eyebrow. “One question?”
“One question.” Carolina confirmed, picking up the deck to shuffle the cards. If Wash were here, he would probably warn Stefan about the number of paychecks he had lost to his CO. He had a good poker face, though. She would give him that much. She nodded at Stefan’s knee. “How did you do that?” If it was a trick, it was a pretty damn good one. If the man were something other than human - something she had never had thought she would need to contemplate before coming to this place - then there was a whole different set of questions she needed to ask.
Stefan wasn't sure he was ready to reveal all his secrets. But he had to answer truthfully--he was a man of his word, after all, and entering in the game was as good as a promise. Morals took a high priority in Stefan's life. He considered his answer carefully, leaning in a little and looking into her eyes. Then he nodded once. "I healed."
That was the truth. And it was a very succinct answer to her question.
He reached for the cards to deal the next hand.
This mother fucker. Carolina narrowed her eyes. Fine. If that was how he wanted to play it, then the gloves were off. She was used to dealing with cryptic one liners. Sooner or later Stefan would give her the answers she wanted, including what he knew about the last known location of his friend. Maybe if he was lucky, she would let him win a hand or two afterward so that he could also get a few answers.