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It is 6am and Liv is awake.
This is not unusual. She's been up for hours already — also not unusual. The fact that Liv is standing in the living room of her apartment, dressed for work and staring anxiously at the trunk she has packed her armor in… that is more unusual.
Almost as unusual as a knock at this hour. Liv blinks once and casts a quick look towards the bedroom, making her way to answer the door as quickly (and quietly) as she can.
*
"Good, you're up." Heather looks grim. "Something's amiss." She waves for Liv to back up so she can enter. "I brought coffee." She's wrapped in an over-sized coat that might actually be David's and she looks wet and chilly.
*
"Heather?" Liv blinks owlishly and immediately clears the doorway, taking a moment to peer up and down the hallway before she closes the door behind her. "Oh, ah. Thank you. What's amiss?" she asks worriedly, already turning to offer a hand for Heather's coat.
*
"Peggy. Something's not right." Heather shrugs out of her coat. "And I don't know how not-right it is. Something's going on. I know she's under pressuer but her demeanor has changed so much. Did you hear how she spoke to Ava? People change, Liv, but the fundamentals stay the same. I'm worried. And you're awake, so you must be worried, too."
*
"I'm sure that everything that's happening all at once is having an effect," Liv murmurs thoughtfully, taking her coat and hanging it up next to the door. "But I do trust your judgment. If you think something is wrong, then something is wrong." She steps over and offers a hand for coffee, raising her eyebrows. "And I am… usually up, honestly. But by now, I am usually at the office," she allows.
*
"I think that's part of it, yes. I worry that she's going too far in the wrong direction because we were caught unprepared. Your countryman's little display on television, the death of the President…if that weren't enough, we have spaceships crashing in the middle of Times Square and shootouts between aliens at public events. I understand that it's a lot." Heather exhales slowly. "But you and I are good at what we do. We don't need to have the reason something's wrong for us to trust our guts that it is."
*
"I know Loki had nothing to do with the assassination. Asgard would gain nothing from it," Liv mutters lowly, stepping over to the kitchen table and drawing a chair out with a foot. "But because of his approach with Sullivan, noone's going to believe me when I tell them as much. It's infuriating." She drops down to sit and makes a frustrated noise, dragging a hand over her face.
*
"You don't want to hand over your armor," Heather says, sliding into a seat opposite Liv. "And not just because you want to keep it on hand. Yes?"
*
Liv winces, but does not deny it. Not to Heather. "I had to talk her and Barton — Barney, not Clint — out of trying to assassinate Loki. It would almost certainly mean war whether they succeeded or not. So, no, I am not certain how comfortable I am handing my armor over so they can learn how to punch through it." She scowls down at her hands. "To say nothing of what my people would think of me if I did hand it over, knowing all of this."
*
"This isn't the way SHIELD operates," Heather says, sounding frustrated. "Assassination is not the —- oh, I can't even go into how many ways that would not be a good idea. Not that it's not a viable option, it's just not a good one here. No offense to your…Loki. I agree that you shouldn't hand over technology that your government has not approved of sharing, not until we definitively declare Asgard an enemy state. If they aren't, then pressuring you to give up resources is not how we handle allies. We ask. We negotiate. We're fair."
*
"Maybe you should remind Peggy of that." Liv just sounds tired, and not terribly hopeful about how that conversation might go if Heather should have it. "I completely understand that there are threats out there that SHIELD has to be equipped to defend this planet from. I do. And I want to help. But they are targetting Asgard right now," she murmurs, her brow furrowing. "And this prison, it… mmh."
*
"I have my concerns about the prison as well. I have no intention of 'reminding' Director Carter of anything, though. Not directly. I feel that our best course of action is distraction and sleight-of-hand until we get a better idea of what's going on." Heather sips her coffee and hum thoughtfully. "This is not me going behind Peggy's back. It's me doing damage control until I know she's okay and thinking clearly. I'm actually a little worried that she's sick. There was something making people behave strangely for a while — including me."
*
Liv drops her chin into a hand and frowns pensively. "She wants my armor in the lab in…" Her eyes flick over to the clock on the wall, and she clicks her tongue, displeased. "…about two and a half hours. I can't stall forever, not without giving the entire blasted building reasons to question my loyalties."
*
"If we had a lead on the person who eluded us in Turkey, you could go pursue them," Heather says slowly. "You'd need your armor for that. Or a lead from one of our agents in the southwest. Anywhere away from here. Alternately, the team could 'lose' your armor for a while. It could get put on the wrong truck and get shipped out with some of the materials we're sending back to Turkey."
*
When Heather brings up Turkey, one of Liv's hands drifts down to rest against her ribs over her suit jacket, but her expression does not change. "If I go in pursuit of a lead and come back empty-handed, it will not make me look terribly dedicated," she murmurs thoughtfully, peering down at her coffee. "But if the team loses my armor, it risks making your loyalties suspect. You did recommend me, after all," she notes with a small smile. "You and Captain Rogers, apparently."
*
"Accidents happen." Heather shrugs blithely. "A crate is a crate. And who knows? Who says you'll come back with nothing? It's up to you. I don't want you to have to betray your people. Not when we're both unsure of what's going on. If I could just expose Peggy to an EMP pulse…I'll talk to Reed. Don't you worry about that. I just want to eliminate the possibility of the nanites. But your armor, Liv. I think you and it would be best served to be elsewhere or for us to compromise the experimentation. Unless…unless you could get your hands on some other kind. Maybe…an older version. Something from that embassy place?"
*
Liv can't help the laugh that bubbles up at the suggestion of 'an older version' of her armor, and she looks equal parts surprised at herself and apologetic for having laughed at all. "Sorry! I'm — sorry, it's just…" She waves at the trunk, her eyes dancing. "…it's nearly a thousand years old already. Sorry." She coughs and looks down, still smiling. Ahem.
"…this might provide an opportunity, though," Liv says after a moment. "If you can lose my armor, you could approach the embassy for help. Ask them if they can provide SHIELD with any armor or schematics that might help. Diplomacy, not subterfuge." She looks up and shrugs helplessly. "They might say no. But they deserve the option just as much as SHIELD does."
*
"Older, less effective, you know what I mean." Heather rolls her eyes at Liv. "Very well. I'm going to take your armor in and lose it — all I need to tell the Director is that it's been delivered. Where it went after? Well, she doesn't need to know, she just wants results. They make take time with all the other work we're doing." She drinks a little more of her coffee. "A good-will gesture from the embassy would go a long way, longer than a single suit of armor."
*
"I'll be fine without it for a while, so lose it for as long as you think necessary," Liv says quietly, her hand still pressed against her midsection. "I honestly don't know if the embassy will agree to this. But this is an instance where you want to ask permission, not forgiveness."
*
"Are you hurt?" Heather finally has to ask. "Liv."
*
The corner of Liv's mouth gives a very slight twitch. She does not look at Heather. "I was," she grudgingly allows. "The sentries. Do not tell them."
*
"Liv! Did you get it looked at? I won't tell anyone but…I've been so busy with Peggy, how else could I have missed it? You look like it still hurts." Heather points accusingly to the placement of Liv's hand. "How bad is it?"
*
"Another reason attacking Loki is a bad idea, Heather… we heal very quickly." Liv finally looks over at her with a very small smile, though there is still a fair bit of sheepishness around her eyes. "It was a few broken ribs, I think. Practically gone now. Nothing I haven't worked through before," she promises, trying to be reassuring.
*
"I'm not reassured," Heather says firmly. "You have to report these things, Liv. You can't…you at least have to tell me. So I can make sure I don't do something like throw you back on a plane to Turkey in that state. Please."
*
Liv reaches across the table to cover one of Heather's hands, and it is clear that the way she winces is not due to her ribs. "I apologize. It's… you, I trust," she says tiredly. "But the others? I couldn't report it. But I will work harder to get the information to you, if it happens again. I promise."
*
"I just want to make sure you're okay, Liv. I got you into this." Heather points a finger at Liv's nose. "I won't see you hurt or compromised on my watch. And I will definitely be making a trip to your embassy. As soon as I possibly can. This situation is untenable. Also…I need to speak to Reed. Oh, this is such a headache. Even assassinating her didn't help, she bounced right back. If I could get her put on bed-rest, I don't know. This needs to be solved or I'm going to be the one on bed-rest."
*
"I have no idea whether you should tell them you know me or not," Liv admits with an exhausted laugh, hanging her head. "I don't know where I stand anywhere, these days. It used to be I didn't care. But." She takes a slow breath. "…the Lady Sif has already agreed to meet with Peggy. She may bring Thor, I don't know. But it's a place to start."
*
"Well, that can't happen the way things are." Heather looks grim. "Or if it does, maybe I'll set off a bomb in the mailroom to postpone it. I'll see what I can do. I will fix this, Liv. All of it." It's what she does, after all. "And it will all be all right. Or it'll have to deal with me, and no one wants that."
*
Liv nods once in agreement. "Anything you need from me. As always." She cracks a lopsided smile, finally looking like herself again. "I'll follow your lead. I'm new to all of this — you aren't."
*
"Why don't you give me the armor. I'll take custody of it now — tell Peggy I came to your house to pick it up — and log it in at the artifact warehouse. Don't worry about where it goes from there." Heather drains her coffee and looks mournfully at the cup. "Some day soon, Liv, I'll get enough sleep. For now, we have to get to work."
*
With another nod, Liv rises to her feet and takes two steps to round the table on her way towards the trunk. But she stops at Heather's side before she gets there, laying a hand on the other woman's shoulder.
Liv does not break out such a solemn, serious-sounding voice very often. But in this situation, it isn't even something she does intentionally. The words just have weight: "I trust you, Heather MacNeil."
A sigh, and Liv withdraws her hand to continue on to the trunk. "Well. Let's go put this in your car."