artifice.

a cigarette is tapped out into his waiting hand,  gaze averting to where the package fits back into his pocket.  there is a chuckle that escapes him but he doesn’t mourn the break of façade,  perhaps it is a liberation to be without it,  if only for a moment.   “   two truths one lie is all fun and games until you’re in a room with a bunch of profilers,   “   the tilt of his grin speaks of fondness despite the dry humor of his voice;  people of their profession are an  …  acquired taste,  to say the least,  but it’s something dave has been accused of being for most of his life,  too,  so perhaps it is simply another way that they fit together,    “   something tells me it’d become a game of chicken real quick.   “

wendy  has  to  hand  it  to  him,  he  does  have  a  point.    if  she  thought  the  company  of  her  fellow  psychologists  and  intellectuals  all  the  way  back  in  boston  could  be  overpowering,  then  the  folk  at  the  bureau  have  surely  overtaken  them.    it’s  a  different  kind,  of  course,  and  maybe  a  more  enjoyable  one    ––    certainly  not  what  she  had  expected  when  she  first  took  this  job.    that  seems  to  be  an  age  ago  now.                ❝        i  used  to  give  three  lies.    nobody  ever  caught  me  out  on  it.        ❞                a  lighthearted  secret  given  away  with  a  smirk,  trusting  that  if  any  of  them  can  understand  it’ll  be  him.

“   alright,  yea,  that’s a fair point.   “   so the bureau golden child and he got off on the wrong foot;  it’s common knowledge for most people involved with the unit and is probably to the amusement of most of them,  save for perhaps the two in charge of making sure their workplace doesn’t crescendo into chaos.  still,  for all the grief dave gives him,  holden is an … okay guy.  that’s as far as he’ll stretch when it comes to complementing the man,  even in the privacy of his own mind.  after all,  the jury is still out on whether these behavioral scientists can read minds or not.   “  please,  fuck-marry-kill is a reception activity.  i’m not a coward,  doctor.   “  

❝        of  course,  i  should’ve  known.        ❞                lips  pucker  and  purse,  twisting  in  a  way  that  makes  it  obvious  she’s  trying  to  tame  her  grin  before  it  ruins  her  reputation  altogether.    whether  she’s  successful  or  not  is  up  for  interpretation.    he’s  one  of  the  few  recruits  to  the  unit  who  has  respected  her  from  the  get  go,  so  it’s  hard  for  her  not  to  appreciate  him  in  that  regard    ––    the  bar  is  low,  but  he  has  sailed  high  above  it  with  top  marks.                ❝        it’s  quite  the  icebreaker.    most  people  do  just  play  two  truths  one  lie,  you  know.        ❞                not  quite  true;  her  parents  used  to  play  consequences,  or  jury  box  if  there  was  much  drink  involved.    she  and  annaliese,  on  the  other  hand,  often  turned  to  charades  whenever  they  had  company.    maybe  a  lot  stands  to  be  told  about  a  person  by  which  party  games  they  play.

lobbing the empty paper cup into a nearby bin,  he takes a moment to pride himself in the slight turn of her lip.  they’re a tough crowd   –   all of them,  it’s a job requirement at this point,  he’d reckon.  evoking a smile or two isn’t always an easy feat  –  he’ll take what he gets and count it a victory.  “   since college,   “    he muses in theatrical disbelief with a shake of the head,  “   see,  this is why you brainiacs need me around,  “   shoe taps against linoleum floors as he weighs whether to dig out a cigarette from his pocket or slap another nicotine patch on his arm and call it a day,   “   you’d bore each other to death without me.   “

she  has  vague  memories  of  the  juvenile  game  being  a  staple  activity  in  her  dorm  all  throughout  college,  something  she  listened  to  much  more  often  than  she  participated  in.    it  makes  sense,  really,  that  dave  would  still  give  it  the  time  of  the  day.                ❝        maybe  so,  but  you  and  holden  would  kill  each  other  if  bill  and  i  weren’t  here  to  stop  you.    i  think  it  all  evens  out.        ❞                they’ve  become  the  de  facto  parents  of  the  unit  thus  far,  a  fact  that  is  wholly  amusing  to  her.    annoying  at  first,  sure,  but  she’s  come  around  to  it  over  the  years.                ❝        don’t  tell  me  it’s  your  idea  of  post-dinner  entertainment?        ❞

rustin gazed at her with a heavily-lidded stare, showing as much concern for dr. carr’s well-being as he did towards the suspect currently sitting in their interrogation room. “ you ask for my trust in return for your assumption . doesn’t seem fair. ” cohle drawled. he turned to face the two-way mirror. the detective preferred to ignore his own reflection staring back at him and focus on the man in handcuffs on the other side.  “ i advise you to watch your lingo ‘round these parts, doc.  ──  cops don’t like to be looked down at by academics .  ”   

❝  well,  that  –  that  wasn’t  my  intention.  ❞        it’s  not  often  that  wendy  can  be  left  struggling  to  reply,  though  she  tries  her  damnedest  to  recover  as  gracefully  as  she  can.  wouldn’t  be  the  first  time  she’s  heard  something  of  that  kind,  though.  it’s  happened  a  few  times  with  beat  cops,  defence  attorneys,  even  with  small-fry  federal  agents  sometimes.  and  while  it’s  not  something  the  team  has  ever  explicitly  said  to  her,  she  suspects  that  they’ve  wanted  to  a  good  few  times.        ❝  i  just  meant  that  we  won’t  get  anywhere  without  cooperation  on  both  ends.  at  the  end  of  the  day  we  all  want  this  guy  to  be  caught,  don’t  we?  ❞

❝  if  i  were  being  polite,  i’d  call  it  bad  improvisation.  ❞        and  when  has  wendy  ever  actively  strived  for  politeness?  there’s  some  humour  to  be  found  in  the  way  the  corners  of  her  mouth  quirk  upwards,  but  she  tries  to  wipe  it  clean,  a  spent  sigh  dragging  itself  from  her.