Tied.
So, basically 13x_forever's mun and I found the 'Sarah Lawrence' roomate bit in last week's House pretty notably awful. I was going to write her a 13/Cameron birthday fic to make it up to her but then I remembered that Catherine Donovan graduated from Sarah Lawrence. I play with time a little since Carol should be about 10 years older than 13 and "Catherine" is only 5 years younger. But you know, like age ever makes sense in comics. 13 is used without permission because it's a birthday surprise! But lots and lots of love and the assertion that her 13 is 16,000,000 times better than I could ever write her and I hope this is ok.
prompt: picture
Carol Danvers joined the air force on her eighteenth birthday.
Six years later, Carol Danvers joined the C.I.A. and eighteen months after that Catherine Donovan, aged twenty-one, transferred to Sarah Lawrence as a Sophomore intending to major in Journalism.
"Hi, I'm Remy."
Carol looks the girl up and down with a practiced eye. She'd been surprised to learn she'd have a roommate but operations told her it'd help her fit in. She's still confused why it matters that she fits in, especially since the whole thing is a lie. It doesn't matter what she does here, she'll graduate with honors. Well, not Carol. "Catherine."
"Cathy?"
Carol blinks. "No."
"Cate?"
"No."
"Katy? Kitty? Kit? Kat?" Kit-Kat? Why do people look at her and think food?
"Just Catherine."
Remy laughs. Carol likes her laugh. "It's not just Catherine. Catherine is long! You've never had a nickname?"
Sure. Her brother calls her Cookie and her call sign is Cheeseburger. One she can't say and the other she won't. "....Not really."
"Well, any of them tickle your fancy? That I said?"
Carol chews her lip. "Not really?" Remy pouts. Dammit. "...Kate?"
The pout melts into a grin. "Katy it is!" Carol opens her mouth to protest but Remy is laughing again. It's infectious. Katy it is.
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. They were alike in many ways. Both smart, both pretty, both fun. A party every night, a hook-up every week. Remy was living to forget the death of her mother; Carol was living to forget everything. They were both living loud because they feared an early death. Both were talkative, and neither said very much. Neither of them asked too many questions because neither of them wanted to answer any. They experimented with everything, except each other. They traded stories about boys, they traded boys, they traded girls and stories about girls. They spent Saturday nights hosting the best parties on campus and they spent Sunday afternoons cheering the Mathletes and doing crosswords together. They were both smart, both pretty, both fun and both hiding.
"How come we've never hooked up?" Carol's head is in Remy's lap; it's not uncommon, especially the morning after a party. Neither has any interest in cleaning up the living room. Or moving from this spot.
Carol turns curious eyes up to meet her friend's. "What?"
"You and me." Remy runs her fingers through Carol's hair.
"I've never thought about it."
Remy looks down, eyes and lips smiling. "You're lying."
Silence fills the moment, then laughter. "I'm lying."
Remy's expression is smug as she returns to playing with Carol's hair. "So. How come?"
Carol chews on her lip. "You want the real reason?"
Remy raises an eyebrow. "There's a real reason?" Carol doesn't answer. "Yeah, I want the real reason."
Carol is still. The real reason is simple. Because you don't know my name. Because you don't know anything about my real life. Because when I go away for days and you think I'm partying or seeing my folks I'm actually in Japan fighting alongside a man who is over a hundred years old and can't be hurt. Because I have better security clearance than the president and you don't have any security clearance at all. Because the man I love blew up in front of me. Because I'm dangerous to know and because you like the lie.
She can't give her the real reason. So she tells the truth.
"I like you too much."
Remy laughs and pushes Carol off her lap. "That's dumb."
Carol can't meet her eyes. "Remy..."
"Katy." Carol knows that tone. She heard it a lot their first semester together. The voice of persuasion.
And that is a lot more presuasive. "....Remy!"
"Mmmmm, Katy....You think too much."
"Only around you.....Re...my..." Her expression says she's definitely not thinking too much, now. Or at all.
"Katy. Still like me too much?"
Her response is nonverbal. Remy takes it as a negative.
prompt: picture
Carol Danvers joined the air force on her eighteenth birthday.
Six years later, Carol Danvers joined the C.I.A. and eighteen months after that Catherine Donovan, aged twenty-one, transferred to Sarah Lawrence as a Sophomore intending to major in Journalism.
"Hi, I'm Remy."
Carol looks the girl up and down with a practiced eye. She'd been surprised to learn she'd have a roommate but operations told her it'd help her fit in. She's still confused why it matters that she fits in, especially since the whole thing is a lie. It doesn't matter what she does here, she'll graduate with honors. Well, not Carol. "Catherine."
"Cathy?"
Carol blinks. "No."
"Cate?"
"No."
"Katy? Kitty? Kit? Kat?" Kit-Kat? Why do people look at her and think food?
"Just Catherine."
Remy laughs. Carol likes her laugh. "It's not just Catherine. Catherine is long! You've never had a nickname?"
Sure. Her brother calls her Cookie and her call sign is Cheeseburger. One she can't say and the other she won't. "....Not really."
"Well, any of them tickle your fancy? That I said?"
Carol chews her lip. "Not really?" Remy pouts. Dammit. "...Kate?"
The pout melts into a grin. "Katy it is!" Carol opens her mouth to protest but Remy is laughing again. It's infectious. Katy it is.
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. They were alike in many ways. Both smart, both pretty, both fun. A party every night, a hook-up every week. Remy was living to forget the death of her mother; Carol was living to forget everything. They were both living loud because they feared an early death. Both were talkative, and neither said very much. Neither of them asked too many questions because neither of them wanted to answer any. They experimented with everything, except each other. They traded stories about boys, they traded boys, they traded girls and stories about girls. They spent Saturday nights hosting the best parties on campus and they spent Sunday afternoons cheering the Mathletes and doing crosswords together. They were both smart, both pretty, both fun and both hiding.
"How come we've never hooked up?" Carol's head is in Remy's lap; it's not uncommon, especially the morning after a party. Neither has any interest in cleaning up the living room. Or moving from this spot.
Carol turns curious eyes up to meet her friend's. "What?"
"You and me." Remy runs her fingers through Carol's hair.
"I've never thought about it."
Remy looks down, eyes and lips smiling. "You're lying."
Silence fills the moment, then laughter. "I'm lying."
Remy's expression is smug as she returns to playing with Carol's hair. "So. How come?"
Carol chews on her lip. "You want the real reason?"
Remy raises an eyebrow. "There's a real reason?" Carol doesn't answer. "Yeah, I want the real reason."
Carol is still. The real reason is simple. Because you don't know my name. Because you don't know anything about my real life. Because when I go away for days and you think I'm partying or seeing my folks I'm actually in Japan fighting alongside a man who is over a hundred years old and can't be hurt. Because I have better security clearance than the president and you don't have any security clearance at all. Because the man I love blew up in front of me. Because I'm dangerous to know and because you like the lie.
She can't give her the real reason. So she tells the truth.
"I like you too much."
Remy laughs and pushes Carol off her lap. "That's dumb."
Carol can't meet her eyes. "Remy..."
"Katy." Carol knows that tone. She heard it a lot their first semester together. The voice of persuasion.
And that is a lot more presuasive. "....Remy!"
"Mmmmm, Katy....You think too much."
"Only around you.....Re...my..." Her expression says she's definitely not thinking too much, now. Or at all.
"Katy. Still like me too much?"
Her response is nonverbal. Remy takes it as a negative.