Mincing words with Ms. Shaw would be entirely unproductive.
[ Shaw might seem a little different, but primarily just in how much more comfortable she is with the two of them. Harold's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth in that regard after how difficult she'd been -- repeatedly -- to help.
Harold limps into the staff room he and John use for private conversations, and comes to a pause, frowning at them. ]
Are you the both of you alright?
[ Business in a second; first, Harold needs his standard after-action reassurance. ]
[ Carver stands up a little straighter, moving instinctively to stand at attention. You account for yourself when you give a report. No slouching allowed. ]
Got dunked in the river.
[ For a moment there, he thought he was going to get drowned again. ]
[Shaw tilts her head slightly in Carver's direction; What he said, it seems to imply. She, in comparison, has no issues with slouching here, or with keeping her hands shoved into her hoodie's pockets.]
So glad you could affirm the validity of a century-old mathematical theorem, [ Harold says with palpable sarcasm, partly to offset how uncomfortable the direct appreciation makes him. Not to mention Carver's... professionalism? Harold has no idea what to make of that. ]
At the risk of sounding pedantic, would you like some hot tea while we talk? I have some things on the counter. And I don't believe there's any urgency...?
[ It is the staff room, after all. And there's some mid-shelf whiskey hidden away as well. ]
[ Carver just tilts his head. Back home, there was no room for insubordination during debriefings. The commander was either pleased or he posed tests for failure. This?
This feels different. He's not entirely certain what to do with it. ]
[ Harold spares Shaw a disgruntled expression and then is diverted by squinting skeptically at Carver, like he thinks the sir is making fun of him. There's people who've been in the military, and then there's Harold Finch, who's never met an authority figure he didn't distrust. He doesn't want to be some kind of commanding officer, perish the thought. He just wants people to respect him. ]
I don't condone appearance-based profiling, Ms. Shaw, [ he informs her primly, ] but if you'd like to have hot toddies then don't let me stop you. I'm making tea.
[ That's basically an invitation to add whiskey to their tea, and he shuffles over to the side counter to fill the water heater from the sink and get it going. In the meantime, they should get on with the debriefing. ]
How did you end up in your predicament in the first place?
We were kidnapped by Sasquatch and locked up until we talked about ourselves enough to earn back our freedom. He was in the cage next to mine.
[She says it in the same dry, deadpan manner that she'd use if she were giving him shit, but, well. That is, in fact, exactly what had happened. She's just not sure if it's a common enough occurrence that Harold will accept the explanation at face value, or if he'll assume that she's pulling his leg.]
Got dunked in the river, [ Carver agrees, tone bland. That hadn’t been a good time. He thought he was going to be drowned again. ] Took a while to get out of the cages. It wanted us to “confess”. Didn’t torture us, though.
Sasquatch? [ he repeats doubtfully, but doesn't press further. He's gotten at least a little used to Shaw's colorful method of reporting. Frankly at this point he's just glad she reports into him at all so he isn't left perpetually wondering if she's dead in a ditch somewhere.
In a mutter: ] I think talking about yourselves to the point of confession counts as torture.
[ Harold would think that. He isn't truly equating them, but he is suddenly counting himself remarkably lucky to have been spared the experience.
With the kettle filled and the water heating, he turns to face them again. ] I take it your heart-to-heart was the precipitating event to this conversation.
I don't exactly have any jobs to give out at the moment, [ he points out mildly.
Harold is not totally sure what's going on here. If they were back home he'd think Shaw was trying to recruit Carver to work the numbers, but it's not like he has any added advantage here. ]
... And I would certainly take Ms. Shaw's recommendation over any demonstration.
[ He feels obligated to clarify that he isn't looking for Carver to prove himself somehow. If Shaw wants to suggest it, that's good enough for him. She's more than proven herself at this point; whatever their disagreements, she's completely trustworthy. ]
[Or, at least, they are in her mind; she hasn't experienced any missions yet (Krampus absolutely does not count), but when she does, she just assumes that she, John, and Harold will coordinate on them in some fashion.]
We're a team, and I think he should work with our team. He can be useful to us, and we can be useful to him.
[It's blunt and ineloquent, but to-the-point, as well as an appeal to Harold's desire to give purpose to wayward souls. It's the sort of pitch she imagines she would have made for Tomas Koroa back in the day, if she'd been able to talk him into sticking around.]
[ Idle hands, the commander used to say. They fuck you right up. Even now, Carver remembers the shine of his glasses. The way Pope watched him, assessing.
He looks away. ]
I work better with people who speak the same tactical language. She does.
[ Kind of? And they're a team, are they? It's surreal to hear not because he can't imagine it from Shaw but because Harold can't imagine it at all. He's still routinely baffled at what he'd done to end up with so loyal and devoted a friend as John.
But that's far too personal to get into, and he's not about to leave Carver on tenterhooks, like he's undergoing some kind of personal assessment and could be found wanting. That's not a feeling Harold ever wants to inspire in others. ]
Let's be clear about something first, Mr. Carver. There's nothing preventing you from working with Ms. Shaw with her agreement. And there's nothing preventing you from asking for my assistance as she did earlier, or Mr. Reese's assistance, for that matter.
It would take exceptional circumstances for either of us to refuse you.
[ Harold wouldn't easily compromise his morals in that regard and he trusts John to follow his lead. They can work with Elias, they can work with anyone who isn't totally morally bankrupt. But the fact that he can clearly see Carver needs a purpose isn't enough to accept his full enlistment. He's determined not to take advantage. ]
Whether you want to operate as part of our unit has far more to do with you trusting me than me believing you'd be a worthwhile addition.
[ It's easy to find skilled killers; it's vanishingly rare to find one who will, as John does, follow his lead. ]
[ Carver doesn't respond immediately, just holds very still and calculates. Taking the information that's given to him, wondering where the test is. There's always a test, he knows, and he swallows back the anxiety twisting through his core at the thought. These people have different rules.
It would take exceptional circumstances, Harold Finch says, for either of us to refuse us.
This is not a comfort. This is a promise. You better not fuck this up, son, Pope's voice hisses in his ear. Don't fail me again.
His fingers twitch. ]
You don't need me to trust you. You just need me to do my job.
[ The water heater quietly beeps, giving Harold a convenient excuse to turn away and fix them tea while he considers his response.
It's an interesting statement, suggestive of the kind of arrangement Carver is used to. It's not at all how Harold prefers to operate, not now that he's gotten used to the alternative, but he'd certainly tried it himself at one point with Mr. Dillinger. He understands the draw in keeping everything simple, maintaining an arm's length distance. Yet the fact remains that his personal mission isn't trying to achieve anything but his own personal mission, and he needs his 'employees' to have fundamental buy-in to his vision for it to work at all.
He carries three mugs of steaming tea, two in one hand and one in the other, back to the table and places them down. All three have lapsang souchong satchets dangling tags off the side, a strong smokey black tea that will take whiskey well should someone add it. ]
The truth is, I'm at a loss here, [ he finally says, merciless and blunt. ] I'm used to having considerably more resources. I feel quite... handicapped. [ Harold gives a rueful, self-aware twist of his mouth that settles into a grimace. ]
What I'm saying is I'm not in a position to offer you much. What is it you're looking for?
[ He could go on further, but he doesn't want to lead him to what he thinks Harold might want to hear. He has no idea why Carver has suddenly decided acceptance here is important to him, but ultimately it doesn't matter. Harold has never used people and he won't start now. If Carver genuinely gets something from this, he can be persuaded to try it out, cautiously. ]
[ The test begins to take shape before him. Carver holds himself very still, hands loose at his sides. Eyes ahead, son, the commander murmurs in his ear. Don't fucking move.
Sometimes, Carver's thoughts race so fast and so sharp through his mind that it feels like he's going to die if he can't move to escape them. Sometimes, he paces for hours in tighter and tighter circles so he won't lose himself to the spiral. If he can move, he won't get mired down by his ghosts. Pope always hated that, though.
He lifts his chin. This the test. The pitch. If he's worthy, then Harold Finch will make use of him and Shaw both. If not -
[ Harold had told him before that he doesn't engage in tests and he wouldn't consider this a test, either. It's a negotiation, or it should be. And if it is a negotiation he has to take Carver's answer seriously, has to credit him with the capability to know and express his own needs.
Being called sir still rubs him the wrong way somehow, so Harold puts his own snide comment in, raising his eyebrows. ] And safety in numbers, I suspect? [ He doesn't get lonely easily but even he will eventually get lonely, and he can empathize with the fact that Carver must be feeling very adrift indeed if what John's passed along about him is true.
But he doesn't expect an answer; he takes a seat and recovers his mug of tea to fiddle with it. ] We can try it, at least. [ It seems needlessly cruel to refuse him when he's asking outright and is left alone in these harrowing circumstances. ] I only ask that you let me know if you'd like to cancel the arrangement, and we'll part on good terms.
[ In other words, as long as he doesn't outright betray them, Harold won't hold any hard feelings if it doesn't work out. ]
[ The last time he was alone, really alone, didn't go well. Carver holds himself very still and doesn't say that. He forces his hands to keep still and he watches Harold and he watches Shaw in turn, turning the words over in his mind. Searching for the trap, the hidden test. There would've been one, with Pope. There always was, one way or another. A conversation was never just a conversation. You had to pay attention. You had to prove yourself in every moment. ]
Nobody survives alone, [ he replies softly. Sometimes, Carver thinks he goes a little crazy if he's alone for too long. ] I can work with that.
[ He hopes, at least. If the commander marks these people, they'll have to die. ]
[ That sounds very similar to everyone dies alone. Harold couldn't disagree with the sentiment in principle, but he finds it... incomplete. It sounds like a complete sentence, but it isn't. There's more to the story in every case, for every person.
Not that he's about to get into it. Harold never talks about his deep personal sentiments if he can help it. ]
We do have a few rules about how we operate. [ If they're doing this then they're doing this seriously; Harold doesn't do things by halves. ] The most important one being that we don't, under almost any circumstances, kill someone.
How did you put it, Ms. Shaw -- I get annoyed?
[ Because of course he was listening to her over the radio that day. And this is a deliberate move to invite her back into the conversation. If Shaw thinks Carver is suitable to work with them then she can help with any necessary moral coaching, in Harold's opinion. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He holds his hands loosely at his side. Calm and still, for once. ]
He okay with it?
no subject
He would have found a way to tell me to buzz off if he wasn't.
no subject
[ Shaw might seem a little different, but primarily just in how much more comfortable she is with the two of them. Harold's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth in that regard after how difficult she'd been -- repeatedly -- to help.
Harold limps into the staff room he and John use for private conversations, and comes to a pause, frowning at them. ]
Are you the both of you alright?
[ Business in a second; first, Harold needs his standard after-action reassurance. ]
no subject
Got dunked in the river.
[ For a moment there, he thought he was going to get drowned again. ]
No injuries.
no subject
Your nerd trick worked well.
no subject
Appreciate the assist.
[ It could’ve gone wrong down there. ]
no subject
At the risk of sounding pedantic, would you like some hot tea while we talk? I have some things on the counter. And I don't believe there's any urgency...?
[ It is the staff room, after all. And there's some mid-shelf whiskey hidden away as well. ]
no subject
[Shaw says, gesturing at Carver's, well, everything.]
Does he look like a tea guy? You've got some harder stuff here, right?
[Being from 2015 means she knows full well about the probable existence of said whiskey stashes.]
no subject
This feels different. He's not entirely certain what to do with it. ]
Whatever you have. Sir.
no subject
I don't condone appearance-based profiling, Ms. Shaw, [ he informs her primly, ] but if you'd like to have hot toddies then don't let me stop you. I'm making tea.
[ That's basically an invitation to add whiskey to their tea, and he shuffles over to the side counter to fill the water heater from the sink and get it going. In the meantime, they should get on with the debriefing. ]
How did you end up in your predicament in the first place?
no subject
[She says it in the same dry, deadpan manner that she'd use if she were giving him shit, but, well. That is, in fact, exactly what had happened. She's just not sure if it's a common enough occurrence that Harold will accept the explanation at face value, or if he'll assume that she's pulling his leg.]
no subject
no subject
In a mutter: ] I think talking about yourselves to the point of confession counts as torture.
[ Harold would think that. He isn't truly equating them, but he is suddenly counting himself remarkably lucky to have been spared the experience.
With the kettle filled and the water heating, he turns to face them again. ] I take it your heart-to-heart was the precipitating event to this conversation.
no subject
[Clearly that was the precipitating factor, Harold, not some lame heart-to-heart.]
no subject
I can demonstrate my skill, if I need to.
no subject
Harold is not totally sure what's going on here. If they were back home he'd think Shaw was trying to recruit Carver to work the numbers, but it's not like he has any added advantage here. ]
... And I would certainly take Ms. Shaw's recommendation over any demonstration.
[ He feels obligated to clarify that he isn't looking for Carver to prove himself somehow. If Shaw wants to suggest it, that's good enough for him. She's more than proven herself at this point; whatever their disagreements, she's completely trustworthy. ]
no subject
[Or, at least, they are in her mind; she hasn't experienced any missions yet (Krampus absolutely does not count), but when she does, she just assumes that she, John, and Harold will coordinate on them in some fashion.]
We're a team, and I think he should work with our team. He can be useful to us, and we can be useful to him.
[It's blunt and ineloquent, but to-the-point, as well as an appeal to Harold's desire to give purpose to wayward souls. It's the sort of pitch she imagines she would have made for Tomas Koroa back in the day, if she'd been able to talk him into sticking around.]
no subject
He looks away. ]
I work better with people who speak the same tactical language. She does.
no subject
But that's far too personal to get into, and he's not about to leave Carver on tenterhooks, like he's undergoing some kind of personal assessment and could be found wanting. That's not a feeling Harold ever wants to inspire in others. ]
Let's be clear about something first, Mr. Carver. There's nothing preventing you from working with Ms. Shaw with her agreement. And there's nothing preventing you from asking for my assistance as she did earlier, or Mr. Reese's assistance, for that matter.
It would take exceptional circumstances for either of us to refuse you.
[ Harold wouldn't easily compromise his morals in that regard and he trusts John to follow his lead. They can work with Elias, they can work with anyone who isn't totally morally bankrupt. But the fact that he can clearly see Carver needs a purpose isn't enough to accept his full enlistment. He's determined not to take advantage. ]
Whether you want to operate as part of our unit has far more to do with you trusting me than me believing you'd be a worthwhile addition.
[ It's easy to find skilled killers; it's vanishingly rare to find one who will, as John does, follow his lead. ]
no subject
It would take exceptional circumstances, Harold Finch says, for either of us to refuse us.
This is not a comfort. This is a promise. You better not fuck this up, son, Pope's voice hisses in his ear. Don't fail me again.
His fingers twitch. ]
You don't need me to trust you. You just need me to do my job.
no subject
It's an interesting statement, suggestive of the kind of arrangement Carver is used to. It's not at all how Harold prefers to operate, not now that he's gotten used to the alternative, but he'd certainly tried it himself at one point with Mr. Dillinger. He understands the draw in keeping everything simple, maintaining an arm's length distance. Yet the fact remains that his personal mission isn't trying to achieve anything but his own personal mission, and he needs his 'employees' to have fundamental buy-in to his vision for it to work at all.
He carries three mugs of steaming tea, two in one hand and one in the other, back to the table and places them down. All three have lapsang souchong satchets dangling tags off the side, a strong smokey black tea that will take whiskey well should someone add it. ]
The truth is, I'm at a loss here, [ he finally says, merciless and blunt. ] I'm used to having considerably more resources. I feel quite... handicapped. [ Harold gives a rueful, self-aware twist of his mouth that settles into a grimace. ]
What I'm saying is I'm not in a position to offer you much. What is it you're looking for?
[ He could go on further, but he doesn't want to lead him to what he thinks Harold might want to hear. He has no idea why Carver has suddenly decided acceptance here is important to him, but ultimately it doesn't matter. Harold has never used people and he won't start now. If Carver genuinely gets something from this, he can be persuaded to try it out, cautiously. ]
no subject
Sometimes, Carver's thoughts race so fast and so sharp through his mind that it feels like he's going to die if he can't move to escape them. Sometimes, he paces for hours in tighter and tighter circles so he won't lose himself to the spiral. If he can move, he won't get mired down by his ghosts. Pope always hated that, though.
He lifts his chin. This the test. The pitch. If he's worthy, then Harold Finch will make use of him and Shaw both. If not -
Failure cannot be fathomed. God's watching now. ]
Clarity, sir, [ he replies simply. ]
no subject
Being called sir still rubs him the wrong way somehow, so Harold puts his own snide comment in, raising his eyebrows. ] And safety in numbers, I suspect? [ He doesn't get lonely easily but even he will eventually get lonely, and he can empathize with the fact that Carver must be feeling very adrift indeed if what John's passed along about him is true.
But he doesn't expect an answer; he takes a seat and recovers his mug of tea to fiddle with it. ] We can try it, at least. [ It seems needlessly cruel to refuse him when he's asking outright and is left alone in these harrowing circumstances. ] I only ask that you let me know if you'd like to cancel the arrangement, and we'll part on good terms.
[ In other words, as long as he doesn't outright betray them, Harold won't hold any hard feelings if it doesn't work out. ]
no subject
Nobody survives alone, [ he replies softly. Sometimes, Carver thinks he goes a little crazy if he's alone for too long. ] I can work with that.
[ He hopes, at least. If the commander marks these people, they'll have to die. ]
no subject
Not that he's about to get into it. Harold never talks about his deep personal sentiments if he can help it. ]
We do have a few rules about how we operate. [ If they're doing this then they're doing this seriously; Harold doesn't do things by halves. ] The most important one being that we don't, under almost any circumstances, kill someone.
How did you put it, Ms. Shaw -- I get annoyed?
[ Because of course he was listening to her over the radio that day. And this is a deliberate move to invite her back into the conversation. If Shaw thinks Carver is suitable to work with them then she can help with any necessary moral coaching, in Harold's opinion. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
wrapping up soon?
o7 (and also sorry i missed this notif)