InsaneJournal

Stop being so laissez-faire, we're all scared of the future
Who: Alistair Icenhour and Katherine Athena.
What: Katherine may have the plan, but Alistair has the plans for the plan. Conversation is had over wine.
When: mid April, 2096
Where: Alistair's house
Status: Closed; complete


Alistair opened his front door and wasn't distressed at all to see Katherine behind them. He was, however, surprised to see that Katherine's car was driving away without her.

"Bart drove you in?" he asked as he stepped back to let her into his house.

"Yes. I haven't quite figured out how to get the car to drive itself for me," she said lightly as she stepped inside. The woman's head craned behind her, watching as the Angel turned the corner, disappearing behind a copse of trees and a thin cloud of smoke. "Don't worry." Katherine lifted her phone. "I can call a cab."

"Just surprised he's in town," Alistair backed off, closing the door behind Katherine and leading her through the corridor into the kitchen. The living room, dining room, and staircase to the upper floor passed them along the way as they usually did - if any business was to be done at Alistair's house, it was done in the kitchen. He'd given any number of excuses over the years as to why this was, but the simple truth was it had the most space to pace in, it was readily accessible to drinks and no one came close to his bedroom.



"I can drive you home, it's fine. No sense in bothering him," he added as he went immediately for the cabinet and got two wine glasses. "How is he?" Alistair asked in all seriousness. He genuinely liked Katherine's husband.

"He's fine," Katherine said neutrally. "He's only in town for the weekend, then it's off to Chengdu for a month, I think. Possibly more depending on how business goes." She didn't keep tabs on Bart. She'd found their lives were easier that way, led as ships passing in the night. Distant but pleasant when they met. "He's thinking of opening up an office there. Apparently, it's less expensive than Qingdao."

She smiled. "I can't say I'm fond of the idea. You can't grow a business if you're constantly moving it. And China's a difficult country to do business in, at times, global community or not." Katherine settled herself in a chair. "And you? I hope I haven't disturbed you, coming in and just prattling on about things immediately."

"I imagine it doesn't matter - so long as his web address doesn't change." He got a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and didn't bother asking, just uncorked it and poured out two glasses. He made a motion of taking a sip and really just let the wine whet his lips before setting it down. Alistair was an expert and making a single glass of wine stretch.

"Considering I asked you to come, I could hardly be disturbed." He gestured at the end of the island that Katherine stood at - there was a manila file.

Katherine picked up her glass of wine, raising it to him before she took a deeper sip of her own. Her fingers reached for the file, resting on its cover without opening it. "What is this?"

"Your plans," he said simply. "In motion."

"What do you mean?" She opened the folder before he could answer the question.

Alistair moved from his position closer, wine glass dully in hand. "A building in a suitable location - fairly accessible to the city in an area that I highly doubt Yang would come in with tear gas and guns blazing. Deep background on 90% of your list. You're welcome," he said self-assuredly.

"You're incredible," Katherine answered frankly. Her eyes were fixed on the pages as she said it, turning them to look at the notes upon notes that Alistair had compiled. Everything that she needed... it was all here and she smiled softly as she caught sight of a stray footnote at the bottom of a page. Meticulous to the end. "Thank you."

It made it final. She wondered if Alistair had thought that as he compiled the file. Had he seen each page as another nail in their respective coffins or as a rung on a ladder?

"Yes, which is why you haven't ever fired me," Alistair said, dismissing the praise. "Can I just say the sheer volume of collegians on that list frightens me to no end? The idea isn't to create a frat house and I can't promise that I won't call the cops myself if I walk into the place and there is two weeks of dishes in the sink or a hole in the wall."

He took another fake sip of his wine and set the glass down to forget about it for awhile. Alistair found himself pulling another wash of water into his lungs and licked his lips - it only took a little to upset the balance.

"I'm not asking you to live there." She laughed a little into her glass before taking another drink. "It's easier to work with students. First, they're educated. Secondly, they don't have families." Katherine set her glass down. "Most people, as you well know, have children after a certain age."

She closed the file so that it didn't draw more of her attention than Alistair himself. She was easily lost to such things.

"Some are educated. The rest are enjoying whatever lavish and hedonistic lifestyle they can pull off now that they're out from under their mother's skirt. If there is a noise disturbance, the cops will be called and each one of these Wild Cards become a nail in your coffin," Alistair warned as he leaned his hip against the counter.

That was what one did in college and he had the sneaking suspicion that for her all her conservative manner, Katherine had experienced that. He certainly wasn't going to deny that he had. Cautiously, of course, but he had.

"At any rate - the only thing left is a listening device. Still looking into those."

"I'm mainly concerned about it for their protection," she commented. "And ours. I'd like to know if the police do knock on that door. I suppose, exit strategy is something else I'll have to add to the list since you're so gloriously concerned that they won't keep the radio down." Katherine tried not to grin.

She may not be grinning, but she wanted to - Alistair could see the winning look in her eye. He returned the look with a gloriously concerned one. "At any rate, there you are. We should be ready to go by the time the bill is signed into law."

"Perfect," Katherine said, managing to straighten her mouth but not before she asked, "So, how is it you know about their- what was it you said? Hedonistic lifestyles?"

Alistair gave her a look that was halfway between annoyed and derisive. "I went to college. In the liberal land of the left-wing, hippie counterculture, no less. They were unsurprisingly liberal in their application of licentious behavior," he remarked knowingly, fingers playing with the bottom of his wine glass. "I can't imagine that collegiate life has changed so much in the 20 years since I've left."

"I doubt it." She finished her glass of wine. "I never went to the right parties, apparently. That kind of behavior reminds me more of a convention." Katherine leaned back a little. "Not that I was ever much involved there either. I suppose it's one of the few advantages of not being a member of the Old Boys' Club."

The truth was, she was afraid of letting loose and had been even then. All-night parties could have so easily revealed secrets.

"I can't imagine you going in for that sort of thing," he agreed. Katherine was about as conservative as anyone he'd ever met, both in mind and body. He made it a point of never discussing religion with any work associates, but he was willing to bet the good Christian act wasn't entirely an act either. She just fit the part.

"But the tight grip on self-control has served you well enough in your political career," Alistair conceded with a shrug. "You didn't have to answer to someone's amateur Vide-Oh clips showing you having sex with in a closet with three Jokers like Garanix."

"No, that would be a little difficult," she agreed with a slight smile. "I think, however, there's a bit of a double standard in politics for women. If I was caught doing anything like that, I doubt that I could get away with pretending forgiveness." Katherine sighed.

Alistair pondered that a moment. "I've never understood the point of asking for forgiveness for something like that. Everyone, politicians and people alike, know that what is done in the bedroom doesn't have much pull with what is done outside of it, let alone what was done in the throes of youth. Everyone knows that those apologies have precisely zero true sentiment behind them. It's a charade with all parties complicit!" he said in an exasperated tone, showing his Libertarian leanings.

"It's a charade but people want their public figures to be role models." She said, glancing down into her wineglass. "They don't pay us to be human."

Her mouth quirked. "Be glad you're not in front of the cameras." There was weariness in her voice. "Sometimes, do you ever think you those the wrong career?"

It was an odd question to ask, particularly to edge out in weariness. "They don't pay you to be role models, they pay you to stand up for them. There is so much negativity associated with being a politician that no one wants to be you. They just want you to be the person they elected. No surprises."

Alistair watched her and wondered if she did regret her position. He might, but that was the reason he'd never gone into becoming the public face of politics. If there was one thing he couldn't handle, it was having to ingratiate himself to everyone.

"No." He paused a moment. "Did I ever tell you what my major was going into college?" Alistair asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Pre-vet." Strange, she might find, considering he didn't even have a pet.

"Pre-vet? Really?" Katherine blinked, relaxed enough to lose her usual composure. There was a reason she didn't drink in public. Her head swiveled around, as if she thought she'd missed some sign of an animal. "Why politics then? It's quite a bit of a switch from one to the other."

"My mother wanted me to be a vet - both my parents were large-animal ones. But... in the end, if I was going to have to spend my time studying, I decided I'd rather study something I liked. So, first I went into history and later, after a particularly good poly sci class, added that to the degree as well." He shrugged his broad shoulders.

Alistair's eyes fixed on Katherine, tracing the firm line of jaw that was usually a lot more definite than it was at present.

"Do you think you chose the wrong career?"

She looked startled, as if it wasn't a question anyone ever asked. And in fact, it wasn't. Katherine said, "I've been in politics since I was in the first grade, Alistair. That's not something I've ever been asked." She tilted her head and said, "Mom signed me up for the Young Republicans then and not long after, I told her that I wanted to be President. That was really the end of being a ballerina."

Katherine smiled, scratching her ear softly. "If I quit politics, I think that I'd like to dig clams for a living." It was said with no hint of irony at all.

"They wouldn't give you any attention," he replied, eyebrow going up. "Who'd flatter your ego?"

"Is that what you think of me? That I need constant stroking of my ego?"

"Not constant," Alistair replied bluntly. "But of course you do. Anyone who says they want to be president is in it for the power and prestige, otherwise they'd do a job that actually did anything outside of eat expensive dinners and perform a well-written speech."

Which went to show precisely what Alistair thought of the Executive Branch. "It is what it is. If you didn't like it, you'd be doing my job," he added with a slight grin.

She laughed at that, not taking offense. It was, after all, perfectly true. "No, you're right. I've always liked attention. It was one of the reasons my parents had their hands full. Constantly."

The woman folded her arms, then said, "Why do you do it then? Is it the money?" Her tone was playful but she was curious. One never got the true answer to a question like that on a job interview and his interview had been years ago.

Alistair shook his head. "Though I do like the money," he added honestly, taking up his glass and cradling it thoughtfully. "Obviously, at the start of this, it wasn't about the money."

He gestured at Katherine. "The better question is why you're a senator, Senator, if you don't want to be one."

"I didn't say that," she said, her smile suddenly plastered to her face. "What I said is that I'd dig clams if I wasn't in politics."

"But you are, so what's the use in dreaming?" he challenged back. "I guess you have something to fall back on when you get arrested for sedition."

"You're right." Katherine stiffened. He was right, of course. The only dream that she could accomplish at this point in her life was the presidency, if she could make it that far. Sedition. Yes, it was that, wasn't it? Her fingers latched more tightly around the file.

The file pressed against her chest as she hugged it to herself. "I suppose, that the use of dreaming has nothing to do with one's career. We all have bad days. I've lived my life in the spotlight, after all." She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "I need escape from time to time, Alistair. Don't you? Doesn't everyone? Whatever life we choose for ourselves, and I'm well aware I chose mine, most of us have a moment where we wonder what could have been."

"Happy?" Alistair offered quietly. It was something that he'd never brought up to Katherine; she tried so hard to keep up the charade. He'd wondered if she'd ever loved Bart; he was certain that it had never been returned. He had a mental picture that they'd been friends in college like he and Amelia had been and maybe they'd gotten married because they'd mistaken trust for romance. Or maybe it was a simple business transaction.

He set his glass down and picked up the wine bottle to top off her glass.

"I'm happy in my career," she said, mistaking his intention. "So many people aren't." Her fingers rested on the glass for a moment, hesitating before she picked it up and took another sip.

"Yes. I can think of a few people who aren't happy that you're in your career," he mistook her deliberately. After a moment, he kicked himself up to sit on the counter top.

"I don't think those people are very happy with me either."

Katherine took another drink, then laughed. "That's not what I meant. But yes, there's a few people out there who feel that way." Her eyes grew solemn. "And it'll be worse before it's better."

"Isn't it always?" Alistair replied. "All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent. So." He gave a one shoulder shrug. "At least it'll be worth it."

She fell silent for a long moment, considering what he had just said. All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent.

"Do you know why-" I want to be president? Katherine snapped her mouth shut, then took a long drink of wine to stop herself. She set it down almost immediately afterwards, realizing that it was loosening her tongue.

"Why that quote is true?"

"Yes." She said and even sounded like she meant it.

Alistair smiled faintly and looked own at his hands, knitted together on his lap.

"Because people who speak truth to power scare the tyrannical. Bad examples to the... sheep," Alistair said with a bit of a grin. Almost a humored grin.

"Hmm. Who's the tyrant in this case, I wonder? The President? Those who are following him blindly? Or people like me?" She leaned back. "I think I've had too much wine."

"Good think you aren't driving," he replied as he slid off the counter top, figuring that was his cue to collect his car keys. "I don't think it's so simple. There isn't one villain, just a pervasive... fog. A fog of war."

He walked down the corridor to take his car keys off the small table and wondered whether this was the respite he'd intended for her. She needed it, he thought after seeing her in her office, and she had no recourse, no outlet. Fifteen years, Alistair knew she didn't.

Of course, Alistair thought, this was pretty low on the relaxing-environment meter and elicited rightfully only an equivalent response. But it wasn't nothing and that was okay for the time being. Sometimes, the job required small introductions of sanity into the insane world.

"Sometimes... I want there to be a villain." She said it to herself. It was true. She wanted time to go back, for that car to never have collided with her skin and forced her card. You couldn't kill a virus, couldn't reform it, couldn't even tell it how much you hated.

Katherine shook her head as she slipped off the chair and walked towards him. "Thank you, Alistair. It's been a lovely evening." She wobbled a little on her heel, giving him a rueful smile. "Even if you're right about the driving."

He offered her an arm to keep stable; Alistair could do that since though he'd changed from his work attire, he'd not gone so far as to unwrap the bandage from his forearms - there'd be no awkward line or odd texture under the fabric of his shirt. "I'm sure you could come up with a few senators to sew your ire upon, Senator."

She waved off his arm as she always did with everyone. There was always that chance that she might lean the same way. "I'm sure I can. Will." Her hand rested on the door for a moment, turning the knob slowly. "There's always Bronson. Crazy Libertarian." Her eyes were playful enough to give her away.

"One of these days, I'm going to go work for him and you'll be sorry," Alistair warned, taking the joke for what it was. "Want to talk about sedition, there is your man. It's a shame he thinks the Earth is still flat otherwise he might have beaten you to the idea."

He opened the front door and let her step first. "It's also a shame I don't believe in complete government dismantlement. It'd be nice to be around people who believe in small government all the time, not just when the Democrats are in power."

"You could be an anarchist," she stepped out, breathing in the cool night air as she leaned down, slipping her heels off and letting her bare feet sink into the grass. She hadn't bothered with hose. It was Alistair, after all. She doubted he noticed. "I think the black trenchcoat, blue hair look? That could really work for you."

Alistair actually snorted. "Absolute liberty corrupts absolutely," he retorted.

His car was parked outside as it always was, come rain or shine. His garage was too busy housing a pool. Alistair opened the door for her and closed it after her, then got in himself. "I'll stick with being an Independent, thank you. I could dump my trash can in the middle of the Rotunda and call it a victory for entropy, but then all I'd want to do is clean it up."

"Now you're starting to sound like a Democrat," Katherine laughed. "You could still have the blue hair, just pair it with Birkenstocks and a microbrew. Who needs wine?" Tilting her head, she said lightly, "Clearly you've been hiding something from me all these years."

"Hey, don't knock the microbrew. That stuff is delicious. The world would be a better place if people paid half as much attention to their work as they did," Alistair admonished Katherine as he started the car.

"The fact that you're endeavoring on behalf of social justice for the disenfranchised puts you closer to the liberals than I am, Senator. If your Young Republican friends could see you now." Alistair pulled out onto the street.

"They'd take away my gun license, that's for damn sure." She sighed. "Fighting for social justice is very Republican, I'll have you know. Lincoln freed the blacks. And look at Theodore Roosevelt- not his social relations. The conservation approach." With a slight squint of her eyes, Katherine added, "It's Progressivism. Surely a radical like yourself can appreciate that."

"Perhaps that's what we need. Let's start up the Bull Moose Party again- rah rah and all that." She reached out and rolled the window down just slightly, her toes pressing down into the carpet on the floor.

"Ah yes, back when being President actually meant something," Alistair spoke in fond reminiscence. He fell into silence as he navigated through Seattle neighborhoods. It was companionable - he ought to be comfortable with Katherine after all this time - but he didn't want it to remain. She was in a state and that state was talkative. He
wanted to take advantage of it.

"What if they don't come?" he asked suddenly, solemnly. "Draw another handful out of the Wild Card lotto?"

"I think it still could mean something." After all, she was banking on it. She leaned her face out the window, watching the streets blur by. The wind was cool, soothing her skin, still flushed from the wine.

"I don't know what to do if they don't come. Give up, maybe?" Her arm was slightly pressed outside of the window, her body turned so that her heart faced the outside of the car. "Or switch parties and vote my conscience? Hope the death threats subside? For once, Alistair, there is no Plan B. I understand that's probably hard to believe."

Alistair fingertips massaging the steering wheel as he stared ahead of him solemnly and irretrievably wistful . "You could retire," he suggested, after a moment, as Plan B. "Declare this to be your only term and run for the Governorship. It'd give you a stronger hand in how said law is applied within the state and it's still a path to the presidency."

"I suppose. I've thought about it before--the Governorship, that is." Katherine's hair was whipping against her face, just enough for her to press her hand against her bangs to keep it back. "Bart doesn't like the idea. Then again, I think he enjoys my travel to DC." Her smile tightened. "For once, I think I'll have a little faith that Plan A's going to work."

Katherine could have faith in Plan A; Alistair was going to have faith in always having a back up plan. He filed away the prospect to keep from thinking too much about it now. Sneaking a glance over the senator, hanging out of his window like some great, auburn dog, he shook his head gently.