keep your feet on the ground [meg!]

[MEGAN ALICE BUTLER]

( I D O I T E V E R Y T I M E Y O U R E K I L L I N G M E N O W )
&& i won't be D E N I E D by you
/ / the A N I M A L inside of you / / - - - - - - -

"Contacts who make their stuff look real are the only types of contacts to have," she chuckled quietly. It was true for her. When Meg was looking for people to do things for her, they had to have quality about them. If she was going to spend money on their wares, she wanted them to be good. If she needed a fake ID, or in this case, a fake plaque, she needed to look look as legitimate as possible. It meant nothing if she spent less cash on it only for it to break or not pass detection or suspicions when she needed it the most. Meg didn't mind shelling out cash for her quality items, either. It was why she was wearing the same leather jacket and the same boots for eight years without too much wear and tear.

Meg shrugged a little, nodding. "True. It's mostly because I'm a bitch and they try to get a rise out of me, and it used to work," she admitted. It used to hurt when anyone told her that she didn't have a heart or a soul, told her that she wasn't capable of feeling, because in all honesty, she really did. Very few people fully separated their emotions from their heads, and she was not one of them. Meg had learned fast that the CIA wasn't exactly a resplendent example of moral purity, either, and so she stopped taking it to heart. "Not to get all Zen on you, but I think everyone has some soul left, even the really evil people."

Callen wasn't even trying to be serious, and she could tell. It made her grin a bit as he answered. "I know, I know, it's so shallow. They're jealous of my body, so they take it out on me." she gestured dramatically, sighing. The idea of the CIA being interested in her body was enough to make Meg suppress giggles (except for the fact that she didn't giggle, it was manly chuckles. The heat was really affecting her, then.). It was true that they had liked her success rate, and she was sure that there were probably one or two creepy people who had been attracted to her, but she was all about the job, then, so it wasn't like she would have known. It wasn't even the job as much as the drive the CIA gave her, she supposed.

That was perhaps the one good thing that the organization had taught Meg. They had shown her what it was like to throw herself whole-heartedly into something and serve it. She had served what she had thought her cause to be for the better part of ten years, too. She had thought that despite the failures of the CIA system, that she was doing good, that they would have to keep her until she died, or something. It was naive to her more cynical mind, now, even if she was jaded back then, but the song was true, you don't know what you got 'till it's gone. Meg had expected a life with the CIA only to have her meaning ripped away. The best part of the ex-CIA was that it rehabilitated by giving a new purpose, continuing with the training in a better way, the way that it was supposed to be.

"Yup," Meg sighed. "They teach us all of the dangerous stuff and how to make decisions and then, boom. Five. They let us go without a second thought." She shrugged when Callen said that he hadn't questioned it. "You weren't there for that long, though, were you? It kind of makes sense that you didn't really question it too much. I find flaws in everything and with added trauma, that didn't really help their case with me."

"I'm sure that everyone has a few moments where they wonder what the hell they're doing, but if the CIA got to them fast enough, they'd just dismiss it. I..." she hesitated for a second, not wanting to really go into detail, but figuring that it had to be said one way or another. "I had a few bad experiences, like I said, and I prefer not to dredge them up, now, but I can see where my questions came from."

Meg shrugged again, leaning against the register.

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[/center]

-- tagged:[/b][/i] Callen!
-- outfit:[/b][/i] Tank top, shorts
-- notes:[/b][/i] It would be generally awesome for them, but the CIA would be tearing its hair out. WC=742
-- lyrics:[/b][/i] Animal - Neon Trees
-- credits:[/b][/i] LikeAStariNight @ Caution 2.0[/size]

[CALLEN MICHAEL O'CONNOR]

KEEP YOUR FEET ON THE GROUND WHEN YOUR HEAD'S IN THE CLOUDS WELL GO GET YOUR
SHOVEL AND WE'LL DIG A DEEP HOLE TO BURY THE CASTLE WELL

"Ah, but you never know when you'll need someone who seems useless at one point. No one is ever fully useless," he said. He'd learned that, pretty quickly. Underestimating people was something he'd done a bit too often, when he'd first started out. He'd been arrogant, thinking that he was all that when he really wasn't. His false bravado had done a lot for him before, and he thought that the same things that had worked in his civilian life would work in his spy life. Really, they had only served to get his butt in trouble, and in need of a bail out. He'd learned that valuing everyone, even if you didn't know why you needed them yet, was a good thing to do. Establish contacts with everyone you could trust, because at some point, they'd come in handy. He might act stupid, even look stupid sometimes, but he was smarter than a lot of the people that had been kicked out of the CIA's clutches. He raised an eyebrow, already feeling the sarcastic reply bubble up inside of him. "Get a rise? Out of you? And it actually worked? Gasp, I can't imagine such antics being successful." He shrugged. "Everyone has something that can be used against them at some point. I can see you having temper issues, though," he said.

Callen couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She didn't seem like the type of person to make such a comment, but then again, looks could be deceiving. "Not to get all pessimistic on you, but not everyone has a soul. After some of the things people you do, you can't have a soul after you've gone that far. Especially if you don't take responsibility for what you've done, or feel regret or guilt in some capacity. Isn't that what they told us to never feel? Yeah, well, when you stop feeling that, that's when you start worrying. And some of them don't feel anything anymore. That's called being soulless." He wasn't forcing his opinion, just persuasively explaining why he thought what he thought. When she made a comment about how it was shallow, he snorted. "That's obviously what it is, and it is so shallow." He couldn't help himself.

He really hadn't had the time. Neither had Dmitri. They'd both come in, and they'd been blindsided with such things that they hadn't even thought that what they were getting into was something bad. He knew that he had been ecstatic, for many reasons. He was taken out of the system, and he got to live with Dmitri, and his little sister who Dmitri now had the means to provide for. He got to make his own money, while finishing up school, at Dmitri's insistence. He wasn't being held back by anything, he was free to do what he needed to, and even though he was sixteen, he was essentially an adult. Plus, he got to be a spy. It had seemed like the best thing to happen to him, to them, at the time. But it wasn't a blessing of any sort, really. They had gone from being excited, to being overworked, to Callen being terrified, to being the jaded people that they were now. Not everything was fun and games, and someone always ended up getting hurt. He hated thinking about it, but he was so glad that he didn't get easily attached to people. He was someone that was over protective down to his very core, but he wasn't a worrier, and for that, he was thankful. "If I'd been there longer, then yeah, I would've questioned it. It's a whirlwind for the first few years, and the first few years was my only time there." Detailed enough to get across his point, vague enough not to pull any memories up along with it. That was his cup of tea. He nodded to what she said, everything making sense. The CIA did what it did for a reason. Maybe, if they were the soldiers that the CIA had tried to turn them into, the ex-CIA wouldn't have happened. However, the people that they recruited were smart, and that intelligence stayed with them. In theory, the CIA should've been coming out on top. But then again, reality always strayed away from the theories and what ifs that the higher ups concocted.

T A G G E D ? ! meg!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! seven sixty four
M U S E ? ! we'll see
N O T E S ? ! yeah the cia would be the ones at the disadvantage, for sure
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to tina bby ! of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to paramore with their amazing song brick by boring brick.

[MEGAN ALICE BUTLER]

( I D O I T E V E R Y T I M E Y O U R E K I L L I N G M E N O W )
&& i won't be D E N I E D by you
/ / the A N I M A L inside of you / / - - - - - - -

She nodded a little, adjusting the strap of her tank top with deft fingers. Uselessness was subjective, really. If someone looked as though they were useless and weak, it could be a good skill if they knew it. They could get into a lot more (or at least, many different) places acting meek and unnoticeable then if they went running in, guns blazing and posing dramatically. It was one of the reasons the CIA hired kids to become spies. No one expected a fourteen year old to pull out a gun or have any malicious affiliations. Pretending that you were a lot less capable than you actually were was also a trick that Meg had learned. Cut a figure, but not too much of a figure, and you'd be underestimated and set aside faster than those who were just considered useless. Everyone had some skill set and therefore weren't useless, but Meg preferred for their skill sets to fit the criteria of the situation she needed them for. "I'd just like my contacts to know what I need them to do," she said a bit wryly. "If I need papers, I'd prefer it if the bloody things weren't obviously fake at first sight."

Callen's sarcasm was definitely amusing, making her lips quirk a bit more. She widened her eyes a little bit when he assumed that she had temper issues, a smirk playing on her face. "Is it really that obvious?" she asked. Meg was being (mostly) facetious. She was what most people considered grumpy or prickly most of the time, but that was regardless of her actual anger or irritation. There wasn't too much blind anger, really, she had a pretty good hold on her temper, but just like anyone else, there were a few things that just set her off. Slights to her skills or people telling her how terrible she was as a person just because she was good with a gun, followed orders (mostly) and kept a poker face were some of them. Meg's pride was bruised fairly easily (not that she'd ever admit it to Callen or anyone), but she preferred to bide her time if she deemed it fit to retaliate. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Meg had to laugh a little. He had a point, "soul" wasn't exactly the best word to use, especially because they'd been through the CIA system. "Yeah, good point. I mean that everyone has some excuse, some..." she searched for a word, biting her lip. "Some drive, I guess, something that they think is decent enough to serve that gets them through the day. I don't even want to fathom what some of the bastards think is such a cause, but they have something." she shrugged a bit, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her bun was falling out and she'd have to fix it or die of heat. "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," Meg quipped.

To be perfectly honest, Meg hadn't been old enough to even start to grasp the enormity of the consequences that joining the CIA would bring. She had been nine, and a man and a woman with official looking suits and shiny badges had told her that she was going to go with them and to pack a bag. Her parents were in the kitchen of their house, her father furious and her mother just as terrified as Meg had been. She had been told that it would be the opportunity of a lifetime, that she wouldn't regret it- Meg wanted to snort at the irony of that right now in the present. It was, in a way, the opportunity of a lifetime, but not the great one she had thought that they meant. It had taken the CIA a ridiculous amount of time and cajoling- cajoling being alternating between playing on her fears and rewarding her- to get her to pick up a gun (violence wasn't in her nature as much as forced into her personality), and soon after that, she had learned that large acts of rebellion weren't as useful (or as safe) as smaller ones that built up over time. It was only now, in the aftermath, when she realized how much of her life was based on the CIA.

"So, we have any super secret agendas that I'm allowed to be made aware of?" Meg asked, changing the subject easily. That was enough of talking about the past, she didn't want to spill any more of her life story to Callen. She doubted that either of them would appreciate it in the long run, and judging from the vague way he talked about his own past, he didn't want to talk about it too much either.

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[/center]

-- tagged:[/b][/i] Callen!
-- outfit:[/b][/i] Tank top, shorts
-- notes:[/b][/i] They wouldn't know what to do with them... WC=808
-- lyrics:[/b][/i] Animal - Neon Trees
-- credits:[/b][/i] LikeAStariNight @ Caution 2.0[/size]

[CALLEN MICHAEL O'CONNOR]

KEEP YOUR FEET ON THE GROUND WHEN YOUR HEAD'S IN THE CLOUDS WELL GO GET YOUR
SHOVEL AND WE'LL DIG A DEEP HOLE TO BURY THE CASTLE WELL

He understood what she meant when she spoke about contacts and having specific ones that knew what she was doing. Everyone knew how to do the job, but everyone had their own methods. It was sort of like speaking a language. Even though every English-speaker spoke English, they all had their own way of getting across their ideas, manipulating the language and using it as they needed. Spying was the same thing. If you put ten spies in a room with obstacles and a contact at the ready if needed, they would go about it ten different ways. Everyone has their own way of doing things. He snorted when she asked if she was that obvious. "You have wit, you speak sarcasm more fluently than you speak English, and you're Irish. What else could it be?" He said, and smirked. "It's not the red hair that gives us tempers, y'know." His temper rarely showed itself, and even then, he knew it could be a lot worse. He didn't have enough of a temper, really - but then again, Dmitri had enough and then some for the both of them, so he guessed he balanced them out, kept them from being too crazy in stressful situations.

Drive was a whole different story. He guessed that everyone in the business had to have something pushing them on, keeping them going. When he and Dmitri had joined, they had gotten things that had caused them to join. He'd been wiped from the system. Dmitri had gotten a way to care for Bay. It had been things that they had needed more than wanted, and they got them by joining the CIA. He understood that some people joined for less. Some people joined because they thought they were fighting evil - as if everything was that black and white. Some people thought that they were doing good in the world, that they were acting as heroes, playing gods. Then people joined the opposite side for opposite reasons. Maybe he'd been a little bit selfish. He'd thought that being a spy would be awesome, looking cool with gadgets and getting the girl. It had seemed like something straight out of a movie - and to him, it kind of was - and so it hadn't been a hard choice, saying yes. Looking back, he wondered how he could've been so stupid, how he could've let himself say yes. Then again, saying no seemed like just as bad of a decision, and he didn't know, nor want to imagine, where he would've been if he hadn't been recruited. They were both bad pictures - things hadn't been easy before, and they weren't easy now. Then again, everyone had their problems, didn't they? Everyone had their own struggles, no matter what they were and on what scale they measured up. Maybe he was just too diplomatic for his own good.

"Yeah, everyone has something." He agreed. He snorted at her a minute later, however. "Well I've been told off." He smirked. When Meg changed the subject, he was glad. He didn't want to do it, as it probably would've looked abrupt coming from him, and so he went with it. However, when it came to talking about his past, he wasn't at all open, and he knew that that probably read on his face and in his body language. The CIA had taught them all the signs to look for in different situations, and he couldn't help the slight tenseness that developed. He knew that he held back most of it, but no one was perfect, especially not Callen. He was sure that Meg was the same way when it came to hers, however, since she hadn't been the most open about anything either. More than him, really, but that was because Callen knew how to much give and when to pull back. He'd given more than usually did in this conversation so far, though, and he was genuinely surprised with himself, though that didn't show. Just a lingering tense feeling within him, but he wasn't sure how much that showed either. "Not at the moment. Everything's been suspiciously quiet. But we have a few things here and there that'll be coming up soon," he said, twiddling his fingers around his phone as he spoke. Callen was always moving, and so this was no surprise. People could see that he was forever in movement within minutes of meeting him, if they paid enough attention. "You know how everything's on a need to know basis." He said. He knew that she would understand, as pretty much every agency, large or small, operated on a need to know basis. It was the safest and most efficient way to work things.

T A G G E D ? ! meg!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! eight fifteen
M U S E ? ! sucky
N O T E S ? ! yeah they didn't know what to do with them when they were separate, imagine them together, omg
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to tina bby ! of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to paramore with their amazing song brick by boring brick.