Family Reunion [UK + Ireland]

Arthur flipped through the file folder on his desk of the new recruit, pausing to wonder at her first name. Roisin. There was a one in a million chance that this was his sister from long ago, but he still vaguely clung to the hope that it might be.

A family, someone to call his own. It would be amazing to find out that he still had one, that there were people in this world that he could still call as one of his own, a member of that long distant family that was merely ghosts in his imagination.

Arthur shook himself and paused to slide open his center desk drawer. He kept a few small personal objects in there, and one of them was a photograph. He flipped it over and examined it for a moment. It showed two small children sitting on the front step of an old-style London house. The surly little boy, bundled up in rabbit footie pajamas, he knew was himself. The other child though, was a smiling little girl, bundled up in warm clothing as well, holding him in her lap.

"Yes, come in." He called the sudden knock at his door, looking up with a serious expression and sliding the drawer back shut.

The halls in this facility were sterile and quite, still permeated with that new building smell. Roisin wondered just how young this strange program she'd gotten herself into was. It felt strange, that a big place like this was so empty. Had she been a lesser woman, it would have been intimidating, especially so far from home. It was hard to believe that she was halfway around the world from everything she'd ever known, but the aches in her body from the long flight over were more than enough proof. She hadn't been able to sleep a wink on the plane and the last part of the trip had been plagued by turbulence. It had been so strange, looking at the mists rising from dark forests during the decent, so different from the familiar Irish landscape.

But there wasn't anything for her in Ireland anymore. If there had been, she wouldn't have come here. All that was left behind was a dirty little pub, her murderous benefactors, and the authorities breathing down her neck. She sighed quietly. How did she get herself tangled up in all that mess? It wasn't worth wondering about it. All that mattered was that she had and her only way out was this little part of China.

She stopped in front of a door with the word 'Director' inscribed on a plaque on it. Right where they told her to go after she dropped off her duffle bag in the room they said would be hers. She took a moment to collect herself, hands desperately itching to snatch up her hip flask and take a swig. Ignoring the impulse, she knocked sharply on the door. At the slightly accent summons she pushed it open. It was time to meet the new man she'd have to take orders from.

"Hullo. I'm Roisin Gallagher. I was told to report here?" She was somewhat surprised to see a young man sitting behind the desk. She had halfway thought it would be some old veteran of something or other who finally got his pet project fulfilled. The man was blonde with piercing green eyes and a set of truly remarkable eyebrows.

Something was trying to get her attention in the back of her mind. Like the ghost of familiarity that seemed to settle on the man. She just couldn't put her finger on what was so familiar about him.

Arthur gave Roisin a tight smile and gestured for her to take a seat. "Thank you for coming. I trust that you had a good flight?"

He searched her face, looking for something familiar, something that would tip him off if she was his sister or not. As he continued searching, he completely missed his cue to reply to her greeting.

"I'm Arthur Kirkland." He replied quickly, giving her another small smile. "I trust that you've already been briefed on the goals and missions of the Corps?"

Roisin took the sat down in the stiff chair, with a nod. "Fair enough." She replied, stretching some of the kinks out of her neck. "It was certainly the longest flight I've ever taken." In fact, the only other one she'd been on was to Paris and back for a school trip.

She leaned back and tried to find a position that both was, and looked comfortable in the chair. "Yeah, they gave me a file to read on the..." She trailed off as her brain latched onto the name. Her eyes flickered over his face again. Oh dear Lord, those eyes! How could she not realize it earlier? They were the same shade that greeted her every time she looked in a mirror! And those eyebrows! How long had it been for her not to recognize those!

"Arthur Kirkland? Of the London Kirklands?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur looked up, frowning slightly. "Yes. I was raised by Harriet Kirkland, my aunt on my father's side." He eyed her, a slow realization dawning on him. ". . . Was your last name originally Kirkland?"

As their eyes connected, a surprised look crossed his face. ". . . Rosy?" He asked quietly, searching her face.

It was as though he had slipped into some kind of dream world, one where he was reunited with the family he'd lost before he could love them. He reached into his desk and pulled out the picture, glancing down at it for a moment before turning the photo and laying it in front of her. "Do . . . Do you remember this?"

Roisin's breath was caught in her chest as she waited for his reply. Her eyes widened. Aunt Harriet. Saints above, is really was Arthur! Her baby brother! She hadn't seen him in more than a decade. What in the world was he doing here?!

She could practically see the pieces falling into place behind his eyes. She nodded her head not trusting her words quite yet. A smile broke out across her face, the first real one since she didn't know when. "Yes, It's me!"

She picked up the photo and her grin got even wider. "Oh, do I ever... My little Grumpy Bunny." The old childhood nickname felt good rolling off her tongue. She actually had to blink back some tears, she wasn't going to just burst out crying like some overly hormonal young mother or something. But these were some of the memories she cherished; back when things were simple and sweet. They were so innocent back then.

She looked up at the young man again, it had been so long. "Oh Artie..." Her voice was soft. "You've grown up so much."

". . . . I should have expected to hear that nickname again." Arthur commented, blushing lightly and turning his head away. After a moment he looked back up at Rosy, examining her closely.

"I missed you. All of you." He remarked softly, eyes sliding down to look at his desk. He sighed quietly, and shook his head.

Arthur glanced down at himself, considering her statement. "I suppose I have . . ." He cleared his throat and gave her a slightly concerned look. "What in the world are you doing in a place like this? Didn't you go to live with some family member in Ireland?"

"I missed you too Arthur, so very much." She replied, voice just as quiet. This seemed like a quiet moment, as if anything too loud would shatter it and she'd find herself waking up on that damn plane not even here yet. It certainly felt like a dream, finally being reunited with her little brother after so many years.

A smirk teased the corner of Roisin's mouth. "You could almost pass for a proper gentleman." Despite the jibe it was supposed to be, she just couldn't get the necessary bite in her voice for it to sound anything other than fond. She wondered about what he must've been like growing up. Had he been lanky and awkward as a teen? Were his knees perpetually scuffed as a boy? Did he ever spend an hour fussing in the mirror before going to pick up a sweetheart? There was so much that she'd missed.

She shifted a little in her seat, eyes sliding off to one side. "Yeah, I went to live with Uncle Tim in Dublin. He was the one that always brought the drinks when Mum and Dad had reunions, remember?" Her hand absentmindedly fiddled with the cap on her flask; twisting it almost open and then screwing it shut again. "As for why I'm here... I just couldn't stay in Ireland anymore." She evaded. "I could ask the same thing of you. I mean, hell Arthur, they said your the one I'm taking orders from!"

Arthur's eyes locked with hers, and he searched her face thoroughly, swallowing a bit. He had vague memories of his family, and his parents were only fuzzy shapes with soft voices, but he had always remembered Roisin. He could still recall slight memories of reaching for a handful of red hair, listening to a girlish giggle, catching sight of green, green eyes.

At her words he squawked a bit and flushed. "I am a proper gentleman, thank you very much." He retorted, despite the lack of venom in her words. He settled for examining her again, wishing he'd been there. To glower at a boyfriend, to tease her before a dance. Would they have grown up fighting or would they have been close? "And I suppose you could fancy yourself a real lady?" Would she have been there at the graduation he never received, standing the crowd, proud of her little brother?

"Yes, I remember him. Vaguely." He replied, nodding, before freezing at her final comment. "I . . . You are. I'm in charge here." He shifted awkwardly and looked to the side, staring right through one of his giant window, the glass of which was being pounded against once more by the heavy winds and rain. "I just . . . I never expected to see you here, Rosy."

Roisin chuckled silently at Arthur's indignant face. She had seen it hundreds of times when he was a little boy. She would never tell him out loud, but she always thought it made him look so cute. Age hadn't changed that in Arthur at all and it let something warm sprout in her chest. He was still going to be her Grumpy Bunny.

She let out a rough bark of laughter. "Oh heavens, no!" The idea was absurd. "I'm no proper lady by any stretch of the imagination." She could've been, once upon a time. But real ladies didn't drink like she did, they didn't understand that shillelaghs were for fighting, not displaying on a shelf, and they certainly didn't know the kinds of people she knew. No. Rosy was no lady, and she never would be.

She was guiltily grateful that Uncle Tim hadn't been able to take in more than one child. Although she had ached for her family, she would never want Arthur to have been exposed to that way of life. The thought of those people being around her baby brother made her feel sick to her stomach. It made her faintly ill just knowing that he was being exposed through contact with her. If she wanted to do what was best for him, she should have walked out the door and let him go on with his life without her. But she was selfish, and now that she had found him, there was no way she would go without him again.

She watched him with sharp green eyes, her usual observant personality intensified by the need to relearn her brother; to find out about this man he'd become. There was something guarded about him. "That's incredible, Arthur." So young and already in charge. He'd never been happy as a follower. "I certainly didn't expect to be here." She followed his gaze out the window. "I didn't think I'd ever escape Dublin." Her eyes followed the rain drops as they slithered down the glass. "I guess you already know I'll be an operative here. Who ever it is that found me thought I'd have a certain... expertise that would benefit the PEC." She watched as a pair of raindrops merged together and created a small united path that rushed toward the ground faster than the others around them.

Arthur's face took on a slightly grim expression as he listened to his sister speak. "You will be." He affirmed, nodding and folding his hands on the desk. "You know the goals of the PEC; we're here to establish and maintain peace around the globe by any means possible. It is up to the operatives here to ensure that the world is a safe place to live for all of humanity."

He spoke with the same tone of a priest, a rabbi, any person associated closely with a religion. He believed in the Corps more than anything, more than himself. It was their job to keep justice throughout the world; he fervently believed this. There was not a person on the globe that could convince him otherwise, and it showed in his voice; his dedication, his perseverance, his doggedness to the cause of the PEC.

With a small smile, he pointed to the map of the world behind himself, turning a bit in his chair. "You'll notice the small pins littering the map." He commented, standing and making his way over. "Each of the blue pins represents a location where crimes against humanity are being committed; each of these pins is a target for one of us to take care of." There was a plethora of blue pins, overwhelming most of the map. "Every day, we have to add more blue pins to the map, as we hear more news of crimes. However, the green pins," he swept a hand across the picture once more. "replace the blue pins once we take care of the target." He smiled and tapped one. "They show a victory in this war we have against cruelty." There weren't too many green pins, but there were enough that it inspired Arthur everyday to wake up and keep moving.

He pressed against a gold pin, in the northeastern corner of China, making sure that it stayed put. "This pin is the PEC. The corresponding red pins are safe houses across the globe for our agents, places where we can stay and not have to hide our identities." The red pins were rare, poking out in random little places across the globe. There was one in Malaysia, another in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, seemingly just on water, and one, that he had personally ensured, right over London.

"Finally are the purple pins. These represent current missions, where teams are staying, stalking and tracking after their targets." There were only a few purple pins, set in some of the more obvious locations. "There aren't many, because we're currently a very small operation, but soon there may be more of these pins spread out as we continue to succeed."

It was an odd thought, her being a peacekeeper of the world. A decidedly violent one, she'd admit. Still, Rosy really never thought she'd be on this side of the law. "I'll hold you to that 'any means possible' bit." She said, careful to keep any inflection out of her voice. It was doubtful that Arthur would approve of some of her methods. Hell! She didn't even approve of some of her methods (effective though they were).

Arthur was practically brimming with intensity. His conviction was incredible, and she had a fleeting thought that the fire burning in his eyes could actually catch the world alight with his fervor. For a second, his ambition was hers, and she could feel the pull of it draw her in. She leaned forward, unconsciously trying to get closer to this invigorating dedication. Something inside her that she thought had been snuffed out long ago began smoldering. It had been years since the last time she had really felt anything so strong, but in these few minutes she had felt more than she thought she was capable of anymore.

She directed her gaze to the map hung on the wall. Most of the countries were obscured by the pins. She lifted an bemused eyebrow when she noticed a blue pin suck in Antarctica. Arthur never settled for less than extravagant. She chuckled quietly. "It looks like we're going to plenty busy." She patted the shillelagh hung on her hip. "Never did handle being idle well."

She stood and sauntered around her brothers desk, coming to a stop in front of the map. "I notice that there isn't a color for failed missions." She cast a glance at Arthur over her shoulder. "You never were a graceful loser." Her attention returned to the map as she studied all of the pins. There was enough potential missions to keep four generations busy. Her fingertips gently rested on a few select pins. "These are the cartels, huh?" she mused aloud. Her eyes sharpened as she held her finger over the source, and the black spot it had been given.

Her hand moved back to the blackthorn wood of her shillelagh. "Oh yes... plenty busy." A cold hardness that had she'd only gained in the last six years or so crept into her voice.

“Cartels of both drugs and human trafficking.” Arthur assured her, nodding. “I have a special group set up to find the headquarters of the cartels. Then we go in and shut them down. Mostly with violence.”

He took a seat again, gesturing for her to do the same. “Speaking of special groups, there are a number of people that you have to meet here, still. Some of them are extremely young, while others are around our age.” He folded his hands and considered his sister before him.

“We should carry on with business.” He spread a map of the PEC grounds across his desk and leaned over it a bit. “This is the office building, where we currently are.” He gestured to the surrounding shapes, the carbon copy squares scattered across the maps. “Those are the houses that we live in. This one shall be yours.” He tapped a finger on one of the closer squares. “I’ll fetch a key for you in a moment, if you’d like, but most of us just leave our doors unlocked, considering we all trust each other.”

Arthur laughed a bit and looked up at Rosy. “We’d have to though, considering the fact that most of us will put our lives in everyone else’s hands.”

She tossed a sharp grin over her shoulder at her brother. "Violent I can do." She tapped a finger on one of the pins set in Bolivia. Her focus was set on the spot where the sharp tip pierced the paper. "La Paz. Growing in the cocaine scene... but more significantly, it's the transit point from Peru to Brazil..." She trailed off. A portion of the cocaine funneled through La Paz had ended up trading hands in her little pub. The name had always stood out to her because of the double standard. Paz, peace, creating chaos.

Roisin turned away from the map and sat back in the seat as indicated. Huh, that was a bit odd. "No one older?" Great... she'd end up an old maid for sure. She nodded and watched as Arthur spread out a new map in front of her. She studied the little square that would be her home for the foreseeable future. "Leaving your door open is risky business." She said, not meeting her brother's eyes. "You never know who you're inviting in, and if they'll ever live." But she shouldn't have to worry about that here. She would know everyone, and know where everyone lived, and none of them could hold anything over her.

She chuckled a bit as she finally met his eyes. "It's a good thing I'm used to my life being out of my hands." Unthinkingly, she fished out her hip flask and took a swig, reacting instinctively to feeling too sober for serious conversation. "So basically, we live, eat, breathe, and sh... sleep this mission. I can get used that." It still didn't feel right swearing around her baby brother. "Anything else I need to know? Drinking limits? Fraternization? ..... Property damage?"

Arthur watched Roisin sit with a slightly raised eyebrow. "The only drinking limits are in the shooting range. No one is to be intoxicated in the range." He paused and considered this statement for a moment. "Except Braginsky, but he's a special case and rarely handles guns."

"As for fraternization, so long as it's consensual and no one gets hurt, nobody cares. This is not a business, this is a new life." He eyed her for a moment, wondering how she would take to being told this so bluntly. "However, there are recruits here that are very young. Keep that in mind."

He chuckled at her last question and leaned back in his seat. "Property damage is up to whoever owns the property. There are no rights here, Roisin, no laws. We govern ourselves and face our own consequences. According to every government in the world: none of us exist."

Roisin let out an exaggerated sigh. "It's a good thing I prefer getting up close and personal to using firearms then." She said, sliding her hip flask away again. She tilted her head as he continued on, and found herself rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, Artie. I don't plan on robbing any cradles." She spared a moment of consideration for how young people might be being brought into this world, but thinking back, there were much worse worlds they could be in.

Not existing. There was a sweet notion. Rosy wouldn't deny that she had flirted with the idea on more than one occasion, but this seemed to be a better way of going about it. "So we're a community of ghosts then..." She paused to consider that for a second. "And just what do you want me to be haunting, Arthur? Where are you putting me in this little world of ours?"

"Be my second in command." Arthur finally answered after considering Roisin for a moment. "Come on, I can see the urge and power to lead in your eye. Take a place by my side and help me rid the world of the bastards that inherit the planet." Normally, he would have used more delicate words around a lady, but this was his sister.

And if she couldn't handle a bit of language, she didn't need to be in the Corps.

If Rosy's eyes went a little wide at her brother's declaration, could you blame her? She just barely got of the boat, so to speak, and he was offering her a right hand position. The only things she'd ever run before was the old pub back in Ireland, and under the table "negotiations," but Arthur wanted her to help lead some sort of pseudo spy network. If anyone else had said it, she would have laughed in their faces.

"Yer off your rocker, Arthur..." She said in a near incredulous voice. Despite this, she could still see the smoldering in Arthur's eyes. He was more than serious about this. She took a deep breath, exhaling it through her nose and brought a hand up to the bridge of her nose. "But damn if this insanity isn't genetic." She gave Arthur a sardonic smile. "Alright Artie, I'm in. I'll help you run this funny phantom farm of yours." Rosy let herself relax back in her chair, affecting the airs of someone completely at ease, in control, and happy to lord it over their company... A.K.A. an older sibling. "Besides, what kind of sister would I be if I wasn't there to keep an eye on my widdle baby brother!"