The Art of Diplomacy

Summary: Blindspot AU fic where Alice and Ian Kruger's parents— Mary and Robert Kruger— are not killed that night and they go on to live a long life during which they help end Apartheid. Their children follow in their footsteps, with Alice becoming a renowned activist and diplomat herself. A trip to New York City causes her path to cross FBI Agent Kurt Weller's path.

AN: Please let me know if you're interested in it and if I should go on. Thanks!

Chapter 1

Residential Palace

Kingdom of Kambezi

"Prince Chidike, you know how committed we are to these peace negotiations," Alice Kruger sat up straighter and fixed her jacket, "but we need assurances from the Zambezi government that you are just as committed and will continue with you remarkable works on reforms and fighting corruption."

In front of her, the young prince, heir to the Zambezi throne, squared his jaw and nodded. "Kambezi's commitment is not something you have to worry about," he said firmly, "I am certain in your meeting with our prime minister later today you will be quite happy with what we have been working on and what we have planned."

The meeting was the first in a series that Alice Kruger had planned for the week. They were to be followed by just an intense week in the neighboring country of Odan— the second half of these peace negotiations— before she was due to fly out to New York City for the UN's General Assembly and hopefully finalize the deal. But for now, she had to wrap up this meeting, as her assistant Afreen was indicating from across the room, in order to make it to her next meeting and fundraiser lunch.

Alice got up, fixed her outfit and shook the Prince's hand, making sure to smile to all the right cameras and answer some of the questions being hurled their way.

"Ms. Kruger," Afreen spoke quietly as she approached her from the side, "your car is ready."

Alice nodded and smiled. "Just give me a minute," she said, "and if you can clear the room—"

"Of course," Afreen said and along with the Prince's security personnel began to usher everyone out, leaving the renowned South African activist and the Prince alone.

"I thought they'd never leave," Prince Chidike sighed and relaxed his shoulders once the room was empty.

Alice chuckled and turned to him— the air of diplomacy and formality dropping around them.

"It's so good to see you, Lissie," the Prince said, referring to her by the intimate nickname that very few people were allowed to use.

"Good to see you, too, Chidi," Alice said and allowed him to pull her into a tight hug, "it's been too long."

In fact, aside from official diplomatic events, the two childhood friends had not seen each other properly in almost four years— not since their university's five year reunion event.

"And unfortunately, I have to get going," she said as they pulled back, "but I have to say, I am amazed by all the work you're doing here."

"It's all you, Lissie," Prince Chidike said, "you're inspired us to be better."

Alice gave him a smile and grabbed her belongings. "I'll see you in New York, yeah?" She said as she headed towards the door.

"Yes, you will," he replied, "take care."

On the other side of the door, Patterson was waiting for Alice to join her. Patterson— Patty to only two people in the entire world— was Alice's right hand woman, and more importantly her best friend. She was the backbone of Alice's organizations, the one person without whom none of the work Alice has done over the years could've been possible. She was the real brains behind the operation, Alice's confidante, if Alice played her cards right— and if her brother would stop risking his life around the world— her future sister in law.

"We're good to go?" Alice asked as she stepped next to Patterson.

The other woman was focused on her tablet, flipping between apps and documents, and she almost jumped back when Alice spoke.

"Everything ok?" Alice asked, chuckling at her friend's uncharacteristically frazzled reaction.

Patterson looked up and then back at her tablet, locking the screen, and shoving jt into her bag. "Yeah, everything's good," she smiled, "let's get going."

Brooklyn, New York

USA

Special Agent Kurt Weller checked his watch— again— and gritted his teeth.

8:25pm.

he looked around him at the dark abandoned junkyard and then back towards the lone building that stood in the middle of it. "Reade. Zapata," he whispered into his comms, "how far out are you?"

"We're still about fifteen minutes," Zapata replied.

"Damn it," Weller hissed, "and beta team?"

"They're at least thirty minutes," Zapata said— sensing her boss's anger through the comm— "the bomb scare at the station has the city in lock down. No one can get anywhere."

Weller shut his eyes for a moment and cursed under his breath.

"We don't have thirty minutes," he said, "those kids don't have thirty minutes."

"What are you saying, Weller?" Zapata asked nervously.

"I'm going in—"

"What? No, you can't do that!" Zapata said, silently urging her partner to speed up.

"Weller, that's insane! We don't know how many—" Reade urges him.

"Just give us a few minutes—"

"Stuart, make sure Reade and Zapata have the blueprints for the building," Weller said, ignoring them and issuing his order to the lab tech back at the NYO.

"Agent Weller, sir, I don't think—"

"Just do it, Stuart," Weller ordered sternly, "I'm going off comms now."

"Shit," Zapata kicked the console in front of her, "shit. Shit. Shit."

"Agent Zapata? Agent Reade?" Stuart's voice trembled through the comms, "should I inform Assistant Director Mayfair of this development?"

"Shit!"

"Yes, Stuart," Reade sighed, "loop her in."

"No, Reade—"

"We've got to, Zapata," Reade said, "she's gonna be furious but more so if we don't update her now."

"What the hell is wrong with him? Why would he go in alone?!" Zapata groaned.

"You know why," Reade said quietly, "now let's just make sure we make it there before he gets himself killed."

Somewhere on the streets of the Kambezi Capital

Alice watched Patterson closely from across the backseat of the car that was taking them to their next meeting— the last of the day before they went back to their hotel and prepared for the long day they had ahead of them again tomorrow. As per usual, Patterson's eyes were glued to her tablet, but there was something slightly off with her— she seemed distracted by something which was not like her at all.

"So I was thinking we could go to that place in downtown to grab dinner…" she said, "you know the one we went to last time. You had the grilled roadkill burger with a side of fries?"

"Mhm… sounds good," Patterson mumbled.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Come on!" Alice threw her hands up, "what's up with you?"

She nudged Patterson with her foot and the other woman finally looked up.

"What?"

"What? What? I just suggested we have roadkill for dinner and you just shrugged at that!" Alice laughed, "what's up with you?"

Patterson sighed and closed her eyes for a moment and then put the tablet on the seat between them. "There is… something," she said.

"I figured as much," Alice said, "talk to me, Patts."

"You've been getting some threats over these peace talks," Patterson admitted.

"Ok," Alice said, straightening up in her seat, "but that was expected, wasn't it? Don't we get this sort of thing all the time?"

Patterson nodded. "Yeah, of course, but this time I think it might be more serious."

"Come on," Alice argued, "don't overthink it. Remember the magazine profile last month? We got threats because I said I prefer grilled chicken over fried chicken. It's never going to end but it's nothing to worry about."

"I would agree with you, usually," Patterson replied, "and I would know. I am the one who filters through all these messages and letters and emails we get. I know how ridiculous they can be. But I also know when to flag something as truly worth looking into—"

"Patterson—"

"No, hear me out," Patterson put her hand up, urging Alice to listen to her, "I wouldn't have brought this up if I hadn't done my due diligence. When our security team brought this to me weeks ago, I thought it was going to be just another one of those usual harmless things. But we looked into it. We've brought in experts. This is not something we can ignore."

"What are you saying?" Alice asked.

"We knew going into this that it's going to be unlike anything we've ever done. We're not only trying to get two governments to sign a piece of paper here. There is so much history. So much blood. So many people who have lost so much and feel this deal will not do them justice—"

"I'm trying my best—"

"I know," Patterson said with a smile, "but it doesn't mean a lot of people won't be angry. Not to mention the fact that you exposed the former Prime Minister of Odan for decades of corruption and he's now awaiting trial. You've made more enemies in past five months than you've done your whole life and this time, these death threats… they're real."

FBI New York Office

It was well after 1am when Kurt Weller finally made it to the NYO. He knew what was waiting for him— a very angry boss and a well deserved punishment. And Kurt Weller was so stranger to being benched after pulling dangerous and reckless stunts like the one he did a few hours ago. So as the elevator doors opened, he took a deep breath and stepped off and towards Assistant Director Bethany Mayfair's office.

"I missed my sister's birthday dinner," she said as he walked in. She was seated behind her desk, arms crossed over her chest and a no nonsense look on her face— her trademark look, actually, one that Kurt Weller knew very well having first been introduced to it as angry and slightly delinquent fifteen year old.

"And then I had to wait an hour for you to be cleared by medical and come back here," she added, watching as he stood there— his face bruised and battered and a gash across his eyebrow.

It was amazing how after all these years, and after everything that he had gone through, he still sometimes managed to look like that tall, lanky and very lost teenager she arrested during her first month with the NYPD.

"Sit down, Weller," she finally said to him.

They were silent for a moment, her studying him closely and him trying to decide how to approach this.

"We got them, ma'am," he finally said, "every single one of them. And we got all those children out."

"I know," she said coldly.

"That's a win," he added and she nodded.

"And you look like hell," she said, frowning at the way he just shrugged at that.

"I'm fine—"

"I cannot even begin to explain how stupid that was, how entirely reckless and selfish your decision was," she berated him.

"Ma'am—"

"No, I'm not done," she scolded, "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to you or what I am supposed to do to make you understand… this is not about you, Weller. I know you don't care about your own life. I've come to terms with that and I am done trying to convince you otherwise. But you have to understand this is not about just you anymore. There are other people you need to—"

"I know, ma'am," Weller whispered.

Mayfair sighed. She was tired. It had been a long day and she she knew she had to do something but now was not the time.

"Go home, Kurt," she said quietly, "I'll see you Monday."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said as he got up and headed towards the door.

"This is not over, agent Weller," she called after him and he nodded, looking over his shoulder and giving her an understanding look.

Back in Kambezi

"We're going to be late, Patterson, we'll talk about this later," Alice sighed and picked her laptop up from the coffee table.

"That's what you said last night, Alice," Patterson insisted, "and then you shut me down when I tried to bring it up. We need to decide what to do."

"Well, from what I've heard, you've already decided what should be done and my opinion doesn't matter," Alice frowned.

"Of course your opinion materials," Patterson said, "it's the most important thing and nothing will be decided without your approval. I was just telling you what the security team told me and what their advice is moving forward, especially with the trip to New York."

"And their advice is getting a bodyguard to follow me every where?" Alice rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I said," Patterson replied, "what I said was they advised upping our security measures until they figure out who's behind this."

"Our security measures are just fine," Alice said.

Patterson laughed at that. "Our security measures are you, me and Afreen hopping around the globe and checking in with your mom when we land," Patterson replied.

Alice shrugged and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. "And it's worked perfectly fine," Alice said, "we're still here, aren't we?"

"Come on, Alice," Patterson sighed, "please."

"Let's just get to this meeting, Patts," Alice sighed, "we'll talk afterwards. I promise."

Brooklyn, NYC

Sunday morning brunch with his sister, Sarah, and her son, Sawyer, was the one thing that Kurt looked forward to the most every week— at least on the Sundays when he wasn't working. Kurt and his sister were very close— having had to spend most of their childhood fending for themselves and watching out for each other and practically alone for most of their lives— they were all they had for so long.

"Will you get that, Sawyer?" Sarah called out to her son from the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She'd just buzzed her brother up and rushed back to the kitchen to check on the cookies— the one thing she knew how to make. The actual edible brunch part of the meal was to be prepared by Kurt, so the least she could do was bake her famous double chocolate cookies, which also happened to be Kurt and Sawyer's favorite.

"Uncle Kurt!" Sawyer greeted him as he opens the door and launches himself at him. Kurt bit back a hiss at the pain the impact caused his aching body and hugged his nephew back.

"Oh wow! Did you get those catching a bad guy?" Sawyer asked in admiration at the sight of Kurt's bruised face.

A few steps behind her son, Sarah winced. She knew how her brother could be and knew that he had most definitely taken a crazy risk to end up looking like that.

"Yeah," Kurt replied as he walked in and gave his sister a sheepish smile, "the other guy looks much worse," he tried to make light of the topic but that did not ease Sarah's concern.

She closed the distance between them and gave him a gentle hug. "You're an idiot," she said as she squeezed his shoulder and reached to take the grocery bag from him. "I got everything we need," she gestured towards the groceries she had already laid out in the kitchen, "what's this for?"

"Ice cream," Kurt said with a smile, "to go with the cookies. Sawyer texted me last night that you forgot to buy some."

Next to him, Sawyer smiled proudly and gave him a thumbs up. "Thanks uncle Kurt!" The young boy beamed and grabbed the bag from his mother to insect his uncle's choices. "Chocolate, good. Cookies and cream, good. Coffee? Ew."

"That one's mine," Sarah announced and grabbed the tub from her son.

"And this one," Kurt said, reaching for the last one in the bag, "is mine!" He pulled out the double dark chocolate option from the bag and smiled.

Capetown, South Africa

"She's taking it a little too far, though, don't you think?" Alice sighed as she placed her coffee mug on the kitchen counter in front of her.

He parents shared a look and then both turned to look at her, with a synchronized head tilt.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you agree with her?" Alice said.

"Sweetheart, from what I understand, those threats aren't a joke," he father said, "and Patterson wouldn't have brought them up if she weren't genuinely concerned about you."

"I thought you guys would be on my side on this," Alice mumbled, "now you're making it sound like I'm the unreasonable."

"No ones being unreasonable, dear," her mother said softly.

"She wants to hire a security team to follow me around everywhere I go!" Alice threw her hands up in the air.

"Maybe that's not such a bad idea," her mother said, "at least for a while."

"How can I get any work done with a couple of brute muscle men standing on my shoulder the whole time," she said,

"It won't be like that," her father replied.

"Alice, you have to think about what you're doing here," her mother said, "this is more than just about you. A lot of people could get hurt if this threat is real. Not to mention the damage that could be done to the peace talks. This is not about just you. This is much bigger."

"Exactly, this is not about me," Alice said, "so why should I be given any special treatment—"

"Alice, this is not about special treatment," her father said.

"You guys never had any special treatment and you were constantly in danger," Alice said.

"And that was one of the mistakes we did," her mother said.

"I don't understand," Alice replied.

"You don't remember this… you were about six years old… Ian was five," her mother said, "we got lucky that day… very lucky."

"What are you talking about?" Alice asked and watched her parents share a look.

"We'd gotten a series of death threats, we always did, but we were told those seemed more serious but we just ignored them," her father said, "and it almost cost us everything."

"Three assassins got into the house. You and your brother were sleeping and we were getting ready for bed," her mother explained, "and they would've gotten to us… all of us… if it weren't for the dogs next door. They started barking incessantly and… well, let's just say… we were all very lucky that night."

"Mom—"

"So, no… Patterson is not being unreasonable," her mother added.

Alice reached for her coffee again— staring at the black liquid for a long moment, silently.

"Ok," she finally said, "but I won't like it."

Her mother let out a chuckle and her father shook his head. "Of course you won't, dear, of course you wont."

FBI New York Office

Monday morning saw Kurt Weller back in Mayfair's office awaiting the consequences of his latest stunt.

"I had intended to make you do everyone's paperwork on this case. Yours, Reade's Zapata's, Stuart's…" Mayfair said, "and I was looking forward to it seeing how much you hate paperwork."

Mayfair didn't smirk or show any sign of enjoying dining out this punishment onto her best field agent. There was no joy in this for her. She knew Weller's talents were best being out in the field, leading her CIRG team and being that hotheaded agent that he was. But she knew she had to do this, even if after twenty years of knowing him she knew there was probably no point in trying to get him to change his ways. But still, she tried.

"But then this morning an interesting file dropped on my desk, and I think I know what your next mission is," she said.

"Whatever you think is appropriate, ma'am," Weller replied.

"You do know who Alice Kruger is, right?" She asked him.

"She's the South African activist," Weller replied.

"That's right," Mayfair said, "she is currently spearheading the peace talks between Odan and Kambezi. Not an easy task."

"I suppose not," Weller replied, "whats that got to do—"

"Her team has flagged a number of death threats directed at her recently," Mayfair said, "and she's due to take part in the UN general assembly this week here in New York."

Kurt tilted his head sideways and knotted his brow. He didn't like where this was going.

"Her organization and the South African embassy have requested our assistance on the matter," Mayfair said.

"They want us to find out who's behind the threats?" Weller asked hopefully.

"No," Mayfair replied, "we're providing security for her and her team."

"No," Weller whispered.

"Yes," Mayfair said firmly.

"You want me on security detail for a diplomat? At the UN? During general assembly?" Weller complained.

"Exactly," Mayfair insisted.

"So a babysitting job?"

"Basically, yes," Mayfair said.

"But, ma'am—"

"No buts," Mayfair replied, "it's either that or a month of sitting behind a desk and filling in paperwork."

Weller closed his eyes and took a deep breath. At least this won't have him cooped up indoors, he tried to tell himself. At least it's still a field task.

"Do I get to pick my own team? Run this task on my terms?" He asked.

"I'll give you that, yes," Mayfair said, "as long as you don't get blown up along the way."

"Fine, I'll do it," he mumbled under his breath, "but I won't like it."

"Of course you won't," Mayfair said, "and that is the point of a punishment, Weller."