ramblingredrose asked:Oooh, Carolina and CT, drive?
Written for RvB Ladies’ Night.
Espionage comes with its own vocabulary. Rendezvous. Handler. Asset.
A brush pass is a quick, casual trade-off of information or documents, meant to evoke spies in trenchcoats, ships passing in the night. In this particular instance, Connie brushes past a man in civvies, slips a flash drive into his pocket as he pauses to stare up at a gaudy advertisement. She’s always had a talent for sleight-of-hand. Sometimes spy work is just pickpocketing in reverse.
Carolina doesn’t notice. Carolina is, as always, focused on the goal: in this case, their shitty little rental jeep parked a few blocks away. She’s also, to Connie’s amusement, having some trouble navigating the crowded streets, perpetually getting snagged on elbows and fetching up against news stands. Connie moves in closer, ghosts hands over Carolina’s shoulderblades, stays in her wake to avoid the idle shoving.
It’s hard to decide where exactly the awesomeness begins here but Imma say it starts and the beginning and goes through to the end. If you want a really great interpretation of Connecticut across from Carolina then look no farther than this beautifully written little fic where-in everything is absolutely pleasant and cute and Connie isn’t in anyway lying through her teeth and if she is… its still with some modicum of affection. And that’s the killer part.