stella - au

[womanofvalue]

It feels like it's been years since Peggy's been back in London, at least for work. For the most part, she tries to avoid it given her history with her family and the romantic mistakes she's still trying to get away from. Unfortunately, while the army has given her quite the good excuse to always be somewhere else, there's been a crime committed in the heart of London and has taken one of her men. Accident, they whisper, but there's just a hint of foul play to make them bring in Peggy to investigate on the slim chance that this is no accident at all, but murder.

"Excuse me," she says to the desk sergeant when she arrives, tapping red painted nails on the desk as she waits for her badge to be printed. "Where would I find Stella Gibson?" It's the name she's been given to liaise with on the case, even if Peggy intends to do things her own way. This is no stranger, but one of the original boys she'd trained, who had been found in a room with a suicide note and a length of rope that Peggy didn't trust.

He would never take his life like that, not willingly. The woman at the desk refers Peggy down the hall once the pass is printed. She bends to pick up her briefcase and coat, pinning the badge to her white blouse. It feels odd to be out of uniform, but the black slacks and heels make her feel strong and confident even if she doesn't have the uniform. Peggy had never been under the same restrictions as others, but she had tried to fall in line when she could, for morale.

The short break from that is a benefit, even if the reason for it is awful.

Rapping her knuckles lightly on the door before her, she transfer her briefcase to the other hand as she peers inside. "DSI Gibson?" Peggy says promptly, standing at full attention in the doorway. "I'm Lieutenant Carter, I believe someone has phoned about my coming here?" she notes expectantly.

Comments

[ex_assertiveness90]

It's been six months since Operation Musicman and Stella still finds herself at a bit of a loss. Despite overseeing half a dozen or more cases at a time, she catches herself feeling as if there's something missing. Perhaps it is just the nature of her rank — not that she's ever objected to having been promoted after the Moon case, especially since she knows she well deserved it, but the work of a detective superintendent is primarily administrative, sitting at a desk or in a briefing room most of the day and running the show from behind the scenes as such, while the officers in the lower ranks do the bulk of the investigative heavy lifting. She aches to be out in the field as she hasn't since Spector, doing what she's always thought of as the real meat of criminal investigation: processing crime scenes, finding leads, interviewing witnesses and suspects. Operation Musicman had been a special case: there'd really been no one at the PSNI with her experience, and she'd taken up the position of senior investigating officer with very little pushback, at least once she'd convinced Jim it was the right thing to do. Here at the Met, there's no such issue.

The case is one of several that have crossed her desk in the past week or two, a former British Army officer whose death had been ruled a suicide after nothing suspicious had turned up at the scene. Stella hadn't been completely sure after seeing the photos, if only because everything looked too clean, but there'd been no evidence, trace or otherwise, to suggest foul play. If it is a homicide, they can't prove it, and Stella's not entirely sure what direction she'd go in even if she were to suggest as much. One of her subordinates, DCI Hastings, is SIO on the case, and he's not seemed especially enthusiastic about pursuing the matter, either. Stella has no impetus to do anything except let it go.

The matter hasn't crossed her mind for days by the time an Army liaison shows up at her office door. Stella looks up at the knock, and it takes her a moment, after the manner of a woman who has far too much on her plate at any given time, to remember what this is about and why it should be so important that she'd be interrupted at this time of day. It comes to her within a second, and she stands up, putting down the file folder in her hands.

"Lieutenant," she says, polite. She thinks she'd been aware the Army was sending a woman, but the realization is still a pleasure; she has to deal with enough men on a daily basis, and not having to consider whether she'll be condescended to or outright disregarded as a consequence of her gender is always refreshing. Lieutenant Carter is young, and very beautiful, Stella notes, more appreciative than surprised; and she's dressed not in uniform but in a neat, clean style not too far off from Stella's own pencil skirt and silk blouse and three-and-a-half inch stilettos. They might get along, she thinks — if they don't butt heads over this straight away.

She circles round her desk and holds out a hand to shake, forthright and assertive without aggressiveness. There's a very slight smile that pulls at one corner of her mouth. "I'm very sorry; I believe I almost forgot you were coming." A beat, and then she adds, slightly probing, "I'm afraid I'm not sure why you're coming to me and not Detective Chief Inspector Hastings."

There must be some reason Carter is going over Hastings's head for this, is the implication.

[womanofvalue]

Peggy's handshake in turn might be perhaps a touch more forceful than she wants, but she's been surrounded by men who choose to assert their worth with their first impressions, insisting on gripping her hand as though they aim to impress her by breaking her bones. She relents when she remembers where she is, flashing a briefly apologetic smile for her fervour. "DSI Gibson," she replies with respect in turn, settling down into one of the visitor's chairs where she can settle her coat and bag, crossing her legs as she thinks about the best way to put this.

"I followed the case in Ireland," she begins with. "News was hard to come by, at times, in the field, but it was a rather fantastical piece of journalism at times, plus I had several local boys who were always keen to follow it. It gave me the opportunity to watch you in action," she says, leaning down to begin pulling out her folders, setting the closed items on the desk in front of her.

Her attention is forward, loose locks of dark waves framing her face as she arranges things, brushing it back out of her way as she gets to the heart of the matter. "You have someone here, their death has been ruled a suicide. Eric Koenig," she says, eyeing Stella without blinking or retreating. She knows what's happened, she knows it in her heart, and she won't leave today without persuading Stella of this. "I believe they're wrong."

[ex_assertiveness90]

If nothing else, Stella understands the impulse. Policing is no longer quite the boys' club it used to be, thankfully — but the overtones remain, and she's lost count of the number of times she's had to deflect attempts to either intimidate or seduce her. The sexist remarks aren't gone; they're just passed off as jokes or said behind her back instead of in the same room with her as if she can't hear every word.

"'Fantastical' is a way of putting it, I suppose," Stella says as mildly as possible. She's trying not to wince. The worst of the journalistic misrepresentation had stayed off the BBC, at least, but the amount of damage control that the task force had had to do on a regular basis to keep things from being reported that either weren't true or didn't need to be public had been astronomical, probably a result of the extraordinary nature of the case. At least Lieutenant Carter probably hadn't seen some of the more unsavory things that had gone to print about Stella in the Belfast Chronicle. Ned Callan ought to have lost his fucking job as far as she's concerned.

The implication, though, is that Carter's opinion of her competence is high enough to come to her with... what? Evidence Koenig's death wasn't a suicide after all? If it is, it had best be good evidence, not a hunch based on a gut feeling. Stella's well aware of the impulse to go with one's gut — she does it all the time — but gut feelings aren't admissible in court.

She eyes the neat pile of folders, placed there by the younger woman as casually as if the desk was hers and not Stella's — a move that irks Stella slightly, quite frankly, but she lets it pass without comment. She circles back round the desk and sits down, crossing her legs, her posture straight, habitually confident.

Stella wouldn't want to talk about this if she didn't think all the necessary clearances had been made already — there are details to this case that shouldn't be public — but she remembers having heard that they had. She folds her hands together atop the desk and allows herself a moment to consider what to say.

"Lieutenant, I don't mean you any disrespect." Her tone is soft, genuine rather than placating. She would really rather not have Carter believing she's being dismissive. She understands, better than the other woman might know, the desire not to take these things at face value, especially when they involve a colleague or, worse still, a friend. "But I've seen the CSI field reports, the pathologist's report, the crime scene photographs. Mr Koenig died of asphyxia as a result of ligature strangulation. The only DNA at the scene and on his body was his own and that of his sister, who found him hours after his death and made the 999 call. The suicide note had been typed on and printed from his computer. There's no trace evidence to suggest anyone else had been in the room."

Her words are straightforward, not harsh but simply matter-of-fact, presenting the facts of the case as she knows them. "If you've got evidence to the contrary," she says, "it had better be quite good."

It's not only Stella she has to persuade, after all.

[womanofvalue]

The trouble with coming to these people on this particular case is that it requires a certain level of classification that Peggy has not received approval to give out to everyone involved. The presence of an agency like Hydra is not something that the army wants the general public to know about, which means that Peggy is going to have to be very vague and use words like 'trust' and 'secret' more than she truly likes. That said, she still finds herself arming up for a battle, her shoulders easing back and a glint in her eyes that's beyond determined.

"What I need you to understand is that Koenig was a very important asset to us and as far as I can tell you without breaching confidentiality, was working on several missions discovering information and items from very dangerous people." The trouble in this case is that the agents who would have taken out Koenig wouldn't have left a trace of anything, which is why they have to be very good and look at more. "You won't find anything at the scene that appears to be anything but a suicide, that's the point."

"Koenig would never have done this," Peggy says calmly. "He's one of my men and he was in the middle of a mission. This is completely counter to his character, at the simplest, but more than that, he was meant to make a delivery today and unless you discovered a USB on him, then it was taken and we have larger problems unless we find whomever did this," she says.

"I'm here because the country is in danger," Peggy Carter says as if she's commenting on the temperature of the tea, with mild disappointment and general calm. "I can't divulge too many details, as you haven't got clearance, but please rest assured in knowing that what was on that USB could be crippling to the country."

[ex_assertiveness90]

Stella sits and listens, and only a great deal of practice at masking her feelings allows her to avoid showing them on her face. There's a fleeting, gut impulse to ask if perhaps the lieutenant has been watching too many spy films lately, because that's precisely what this sounds like: an investigation into the loss of a daring undercover officer who'd risked his life for Queen and country, who'd got hold of some priceless bit of information only to be killed and for the information to fall into enemy hands. It sounds rather outlandish, to say the least, but if it is true—

There's another pause, longer this time. Stella doesn't actually know offhand if they'd found anything on Koenig's person; she'll need to ask DCI Hastings for a copy of the pathologist's report again. Right now, though, that's not her first concern. "Assuming this is true, why did you come to me? Why not someone in MI5? The Met isn't exactly equipped for dealing with matters of national security."

She knows Carter has got to know that, that even if they did find something, her hands might well be metaphorically tied. And there's still the matter of proving foul play in Koenig's death, which Stella still doesn't entirely believe, but — now her attention's caught, of course. She'd thought the scene looked too clean, but lacking evidence, her suspicions had remained just that. Deep down, underneath everything, she would like something to prove those suspicions right.

And she likes this woman, because as much as Stella can't simply fold and tell her what she wants to hear, Peggy Carter is tough and unflinching and her voice has the edge of passionate determination under the calm veneer; there's the air of a woman used to holding her own against heavy resistance. They're not dissimilar in that regard, and — well, it wouldn't take much for Stella to admit she finds that extremely attractive, even if she has to push that feeling aside right now to focus on more imperative things.

"I'd like to be able to take you at your word, but I'm sure you understand I need proof."

[womanofvalue]

Sometimes, Peggy wishes that she worked for MI5 or somewhere equally unaware of some of the more terrifying things that happen in the underbelly of the countries they're in. Peggy has been with SHIELD just about as long as she's been liaising with the Army and while they tend to work hand in hand for the most part, there are times when she must go to ground and hide anything but the Lieutenant ranking she wears proudly.

"They're not cleared and it's your case," Peggy replies, thinking that it would be quite clear why Peggy hadn't bothered with all the red tape that would occur if she were to get another agency involved. "Besides, I had thought to persuade you to re-open the case and give it a harder look, with me over your shoulder," she adds, with a determined aim in her words, given that she wants to look at everything firsthand and not simply from an emailed file. "When I speak of the national threat, this is something that most MI5 agents aren't cleared to know," she admits. "Should the case progress in such a fashion that I need to bring you in, I will make all the appropriate requests, but they will only be for you," she warns.

Truthfully, Peggy knows that it's all a sham. She doesn't need to make any of these requests if the technology they have in the bunker actually works, seeing as Stark's little memory wipe device did seem to work at last testing and should things get too dangerous or divulging, she can always rely on that.

"I'm asking for you to let me look at the evidence with you," is what Peggy says, skirting around the requirement to show proof just yet. "Should I see something troubling in the physical files, then I'll make my calls." She arches a brow and offers Stella a look of bargaining, trying to keep her secrets close to the proverbial vest, at least for a little while longer. "I followed your work, DSI," she adds, figuring that a little charm can't hurt. "I know that you want to find the real truth of the matter."

[ex_assertiveness90]

There's a building sense of alarm as Stella listens to Lieutenant Carter's expectations of her, so far from standard procedure when it comes to this sort of thing that it makes her wonder what, exactly, is going on. The idea that there would be any issue of national security that agents of MI5 wouldn't be cleared to handle, especially over a police officer whose jurisdiction doesn't extend outside of Greater London except in extraordinary circumstances, puts Stella quite off her guard. Furthermore, the evidence from the Koenig case — the evidence from any case that might potentially involve a criminal element — is confidential, intended for police eyes only unless and until any sort of trial proceedings occur. Everything has to be carefully handled to avoid breaching chain of custody. As far as she's aware, the case does still belong to the Met, not the Royal Military Police, and as such, Lieutenant Carter may not actually be authorized to see what she's asking to see.

And then there's the matter of Stella's own personal feelings, her resistance to being manipulated and her general dislike of the impression this woman is giving off that she knows more than Stella does. She sits there very still, watching Peggy across the desk, her expression carefully controlled except for the look in her eyes, her gaze a bit sharper and harder as she takes in what she's being told and decides she doesn't like any of it.

"If you've followed my work, Lieutenant, you'd be aware that I'd prefer to stick to procedure," she says. That's not completely true; there are a number of things she did during the Spector case, for example, that were off the metaphorical script, things which came back to haunt her during the legal proceedings. But for the most part, Stella does prefer to run her investigations by the book, and that includes handling possibly-unauthorized requests from parties outside the case with a great deal of caution, in case it should get her or her people into hot water later.

But as much as the charm doesn't really work on her, not here and not like this, the other woman's words are true: she does want to know, once and for all, exactly what's going on. Stella's a detective; she can't help it.

"I'll need to speak with Chief Superintendent George," she warns, "and I can't guarantee he'll say what you want to hear."

[womanofvalue]

She can feel herself losing control of the situation, which is not something that Peggy has ever enjoyed, but as it begins to slip away, she hates that she can't do anything about it but simply play along by Gibson's rules. Still, she's not closing the door completely on her and slamming her foot in it, so while Peggy hasn't entirely been able to get her way, she also hasn't been shoved out on her arse. "If that's the proper procedure that you must follow," she begins, feeling a touch discontent and while it's not what she wants, she's also learned that she needs to adapt quickly.

Breathing in sharply, she decides that perhaps force is not going to be an adequate strategy. It doesn't seem to be doing her any good, not at this point.

"Then, if I was to somehow persuade your Chief Superintendent that this is a case that's worth looking into further?" she asks, her voice filled with business and a touch of hope, because she doesn't think that this is necessarily done and she doesn't have to haul out supporting documentation, but she's keeping that in her back pocket in the chance that she must. "How can I gain your allyship in that effort?"

She's not quite desperate yet, but she might get there soon. Koenig's work is important, so important, and she can't let that slip away. If need be, she'll return in her capacity as a spy and not a soldier, but she wants to do this properly. She wants to have Stella Gibson on her side.

[ex_assertiveness90]

Stella, it should be said, is very fond of control, personally and professionally — so while it doesn't exactly give her pleasure to disappoint Lieutenant Carter, the feeling that the metaphorical ball is very firmly back in her court is a reassuring and familiar one. Deciding what to do about it is of course another matter, but Peggy's right; Stella's not shut her out entirely, and if she honestly wanted her to fuck off, she would have told her so already. There's a slight, tenuous rapport here, as Stella is at once both suspicious of the other woman's intentions as a matter of course and in admiration of her determination and composure. If only there were a few more women like this on the force, really.

"You can begin by being more forthcoming," says Stella, very straightforward herself. If they're going to have a working relationship of any kind, then Stella needs to know Carter's being honest with her. That's still a big if — she knows Chris George and how adamant he can be when something isn't on the level and he doesn't like it, and his decisions are usually steered by a degree of sense and logic similar to Stella's own, which is part of why she tolerates working for him and respects his decision-making in a way she hasn't in the past with prior superior officers. If he thinks the story she's being told here makes sense, then Stella will capitulate; if not, then Lieutenant Carter will have to look for her assistance somewhere else.

Stella lets out a breath, almost inaudibly, deciding now is as good a time as any other. "If you'd wait here for a few minutes," she says, back to professional politeness, standing up from her desk and fetching her mobile phone from a drawer. Confident the other woman won't go through her things while she steps out to phone her boss — not if she wants to earn Stella's trust, at any rate, and Stella thinks she's intelligent enough to know better — she walks out into the corridor and gives DCS George a call.

What follows is several minutes of quietly urgent conversation as Stella lays out what she's been told and, without using those exact words, asks what the fuck she's supposed to do about it. When she comes back, she doesn't look defeated, exactly, or disappointed, but there's something in her otherwise composed expression that says she heard something she didn't expect to hear.

"I've had a few words with my boss," she says, "who has told me you'll be allowed to look at the evidence under my close supervision, so long as you understand that none of it leaves the premises, not even copies. Is that clear?"

Stella hasn't the faintest idea what's going on, but now she would really, really like to find out — assuming Carter is telling her the truth.

[womanofvalue]

If Peggy wants to be more forthcoming with Stella, there are reams of documents to go through in order to ensure the security clearances that are required are in place. That said, she's pulled civilians into SHIELD before and seeing as it's her bloody agency when you get down to it and get past all the stories and myths she's put in place so that people don't know that she, Howard, and the Colonel had put this together. Her cover in the army is where her true passion lies and she'll hold true to that. Perhaps she can start to bring her in on things, if nothing else, the Koenigs, in general.

That's not required yet, though. Right now, there's a waiting game to be played. Peggy settles herself with her briefcase to review her notes while Stella is on the phone, scribbling in reminders and pointed potential follow ups. What she really needs is to see the body and know if she's looking for any specific threat.

If it's not Hydra, Peggy shivers to think of what other enemies might be lingering out there. Glancing up when Stella returns, she offers a brief smile, though there's a glint in her eye that says she's going to negotiate. "I'll shake on that, but on one condition," she insists.

"If I'm able to persuade you that something is awry, then you'll help me reopen the case and ensure that my agency has copies of all the files required." It's a bit of a leap, going from barely-there access to this, but Peggy's stubborn determination works along those lines and always has.

[ex_assertiveness90]

It sounds more demand than request, and, instinctively and uncontrollably, Stella bristles. She tries not to be obvious about it, of course, but there's a sudden line of tension across her shoulders and she has to stifle the urge to cross her arms as if to close herself off to the idea. There's a long moment in which she simply stares at Peggy, unflinching, hawk-like, unreadable. Several seconds tick by, and then she pulls away slightly — not physically, but the intensity of her gaze diminishes a little and she draws in a deep breath, carefully reminding herself that Lieutenant Carter is not here to run roughshod all over her case or her authority.

"If there's any evidence of foul play," she says, "then we'll talk." There's an authoritative note in her tone that says that she means that to be the end of the argument and that the other woman should consider herself lucky she's being allowed to review the evidence at all. Stella is really only willing to concede so much here, and not just because she's battling with her instinctive need for control. After so many things went wrong with the Spector investigation, she's running an even tighter ship than normal, and anything that she even remotely suspects might go sideways — like this — is treated with extra scrutiny and caution. She has no intention of putting her reputation or her career at risk because a soldier she doesn't know has shown up on her doorstep demanding she reopen a case without providing any solid evidence as to why, other than her word. And she doesn't know this woman well enough yet to simply trust her word.

"Now, Lieutenant, if you'd like to start, I can spare you an hour."

Depending on what they find, it might be more than an hour, but Stella's still not entirely sure what's there to be found, and she is, in fact, busy with about twenty other things. But she does have time to go down to evidence storage, and somewhere along the line she's going to have to talk to DCI Hastings and tell him why she's taking his case away. Not that she thinks he'll care; he's practically washed his hands of it already.

[womanofvalue]

Peggy holds her gaze in return, because she's never been one to shrink away from a glare, never been one to frighten at the first sign of danger, and she has a great degree of admiration for Stella Gibson, both via her reputation, but also through the interaction that they've already had, here. It means that she's more than happy to stand toe-to-toe with her, knowing that neither of them will give way easily.

It's more than she's had in years, not since the incident where she'd lost Steve, and she finds herself feeling a thrill to have something about it. "If it's not taking up too much of your time, I'd very much like to do it now," she agrees.

There is also, then, the quiet pleasure of knowing that she will get to investigate this with a keen mind like Gibson's. Peggy is sure that once she can introduce even the idea of foul play when they're near the body, new theories will be propped up, new ideas will come loose, all because she knows this woman is brilliant.

"Shall we?"

[ex_assertiveness90]

Viewing Koenig's body will be another request altogether, and one Stella isn't thinking about right at the moment. Instructing the other woman to follow her, she leads the way down the corridor and then down the stairs to evidence storage, where she has a brief conversation with a tech about the location of the files related to the Koenig case.

A few moments later she comes over to Peggy with a single medium-sized box, neatly labeled, and sets it on a waist-high table. Taking off the lid, she pulls out a neat stack of folders; these are only copies of the originals, which are located elsewhere and would need gloves to handle. That said — they're perfectly faithful copies of photographs from the scene, the CSIs' reports, the pathologist's report from the post-mortem, Koenig's suicide note, and a few miscellaneous other items.

"Everything should be here," she says. A pause, and she adds, prompting a little, "I'm not sure what it is you hope you'll find."

She's looked at all of the evidence herself and nothing stood out to her — other than the scene looking, perhaps, a little cleaner than usual. If she'd had any evidence to support it, she'd have said someone with knowledge of forensics and criminology had cleaned it up. The problem is that she doesn't — it's a little striking how much all of this had added up to precisely nothing.

[womanofvalue]

Peggy lingers behind Stella, happy to let her control the work and have control of the whole thing. That said, it itches at her, making her way to do something that gives her back some sort of hand in this investigation, despite the fact that she knows she has none due to their lateness in becoming the primary agency on the case. Now they have to play nice with other jurisdictions and while she admires Stella a great deal, it still chafes at her.

Peggy steps in when she's allowed the evidence, searching through the pictures. "Tox report?" she asks, because that's what she wants to see. "State of the pupils at time of death," she adds absently, flipping through the reports, glancing at the note with a press of her lips together, searching the whole of it.

The pictures are set aside because the note is far more interesting. She sees it instantly, the way L and T are capitalized, seemingly randomly. Glancing over her shoulder, she gives Stella a look to encourage her to come closer. "Did the note or the physical evidence lead the team to presume it was a suicide?" She's building a picture in her mind, one that speaks of something forced and nefarious.