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15/7/11 09:08![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
telarynTitle: The Center Does Not Hold
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telaryn
Word Count: 1621
Fandom: Leverage/Rizzoli & Isles/BTVS
Characters: Nate Ford, Jane Rizzoli, Angela Rizzoli, Sophie Devereaux, Faith Lehane
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None really.
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: In a Boston gone mad, the Leverage team have become a stop on the new Underground Railroad. When a member of Boston's finest approaches them for help, Faith is forced to choose between protecting her family and recognizing that some things are still more important than being safe.
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
angst_bingo, for the prompt "dystopian".
“Is she back?”
Startled, Faith turned to see Nate standing at the foot of the spiral staircase, clinging to the bannister for support. “Dad, you shouldn't be out of bed.” She went to his side, slipping an arm around his chest. Nate leaned heavily against her, letting her take his weight.
“Is she back?” he repeated, his eyes full of worry as he looked up at her.
Faith sighed. “Not yet,” she admitted. “Please – if you're going to be up, at least let me put you on the couch.”
It was a mark of how much his injuries were still troubling him that Nate didn't argue with her. Moving slowly and carefully, Faith walked him over to the couch. “If you're strong enough to carry me, please don't tell me,” he said. “I feel pathetic enough as it is.” It was a weak attempt at humor, but she was willing to give him props for the effort.
“I'd have to throw you over my shoulder,” she said as she lowered him down to the couch, “and I don't think either of us wants that.” When he was settled, she perched on the edge of the nearby coffee table. “Can I get you anything?” They hadn’t reached the point of rationing their ever-dwindling supply of painkillers, but they both knew it was coming.
Nate finally shook his head. “I’m fine.” It was a lie, but Faith had learned to let him have his moments. “Any news from the others?”
Biting her lower lip, Faith shook her head. “If they don’t run into trouble, Eliot’s going to try the radio around midnight.” Eliot, Hardison and Parker were leading a group of “undesirables” out of Boston – trying to make it to a safe house over the border in New York. From there others would take over the challenge of getting the political refugees out of the country.
Nate and Faith had been on a similar trip for the new Underground Railroad two months earlier, when they’d been ambushed by State Security. The fight had been bloody and intense, and none of them had come away from it unscathed. Only one of their charges had lived – and as far as she knew, Faith was the only one so far who’d fully recovered from her injuries. Let’s hear it for Slayer powers! Even though the monsters she fought these days were primarily human, Faith’s supernatural abilities were even more valuable to the work the Leverage team had taken up for themselves.
“It’s still strange seeing you with a gun,” Nate said, glancing at Faith’s shoulder holster. She knew that for most of the team, the true mark of how bad things had gotten was the day Eliot had not only taken up his own guns again, but insisted that the rest of them start carrying. ”Speed is critical,” he’d lectured. ”We’re going to be protecting civilians against soldiers who already embrace the value of attacking from a distance. Sometimes the only advantage you have is becoming as much like your enemy as possible.”
The assessment had bothered Nate and Sophie, but practicality ultimately won out. Properly armed, the team had drilled for hours in the ruins of McCrory’s Place, until Eliot was satisfied the chances of them shooting each other were minimal.
“I’m not taking a chance with your safety,” Faith reminded Nate. “As long as you’re benched, I’m keeping any and all potential threats as far away from you as possible.”
******************
It was the first break they’d had in what seemed like weeks. Jane felt her hands begin to shake with a combination of emotion and the effort of not squeezing down on the trigger. “I’m not going to arrest you,” she said to the dark haired woman they’d run into entirely by accident. “I need your help.”
“Jane, what are you doing?”
Rizzoli shrugged off her mother’s hand before it could tighten down. “Quiet, Ma,” she snapped. To the woman in front of her she said, “Ms. Devereaux, I know who you are, and I know you work with Nathan Ford. I need you to take me to him.”
She desperately envied the woman’s composure. The city was devolving into chaos around them – Sophie Devereaux had a “shoot on sight” kill order attached to her – and she was as calm and collected as if she’d just come from a day at Bloomingdales. “I know who you are as well, Detective Rizzoli,” she said, “and if you think I’m falling for your act, you are sadly mistaken. Arrest me or shoot me – you’re not getting anywhere near Nate.”
Act… Tears of frustration burned Jane’s eyes. Hours earlier it had been her in Sophie’s position, only the person on the right side of the gun had been her brother Frankie. “Too many questions, Jane. Captain’s worried about your loyalty.”
In a burst of irony that Jane fully planned on have hysterics over later, Angela Rizzoli had gone into action in that moment – putting herself between her children in a desperate attempt to save her only daughter’s life. Jane had been prepared to scream at her to move – save herself – but it had been enough to get Frankie to waver.
”One hour,” he’d said at last. ”I’ll give you one hour before I raise the alarm, and I give you my word I won’t be the one to hunt you down. Beyond that…” Beyond that, Jane knew she’d lost him. Frankie, like Maura, had seen logic and security in the new government. Where Jane saw irrational self-serving behavior and repressive laws that stripped ordinary people of their rights, Frankie and Maura saw order being spun from chaos.
“Fine,” she growled, putting the safety on her weapon and extending it butt first in the other woman’s direction. “I’m an undesirable. So is my mother. We need to get out of the city, and you people are the only place I know that might be able to pull it off.” She sighed as Sophie took the gun. “So shoot me or leave me behind, but I need your help.”
************
Sophie was nearly three hours overdue, and Nate was getting ready to have the fight with his daughter that involved him threatening to head out and find her himself if Faith wouldn’t agree to go.
“You know the rules,” she said, holding out a glass of whiskey.
He did, and even though he desperately wanted the alcohol, Nate couldn’t help pointing out “this is just a cheap way to sedate me”. He took the glass nonetheless, trying not to visibly show how much he appreciated the taste.
“It’s your last bottle, and the odds of us finding more are almost nonexistent,” Faith pointed out, taking a seat in a nearby chair. “I may be trying to keep you from doing something stupid, but I wouldn’t call it a cheap way of going about it.”
Nate leaned back with a sigh, worry for Sophie still hanging like a cloud over everything. “You can’t seriously expect me to just sit here and do nothing.”
He was gratified to see the sympathy in Faith’s dark eyes, even though her position remained absolutely inflexible. “Nate, if you weren’t already walking wounded, you have to believe I would be out there with you beating the bushes for her.” She sighed. “Facts are facts though – she’s either been delayed for a good reason, she’s captured, or she’s dead. If it’s either of the last two, there is literally nothing we can do right now. Once the other three are back I’d be willing to try a search and rescue – until then, it’s suicide.”
It was a harsh assessment, but precisely what he needed to hear. “Once upon a time I liked having someone around who was as stubborn as me,” he grumbled.
Faith laughed. “Brain damage sets in early in our family, does it?”
Nate was saved from making a retort by the sound of a key in the lock. Faster than he could follow, Faith was on her feet – gun in hand, glaring at him to stay back.
“It’s me,” Sophie called as the door opened. Nate felt staggered by the relief that washed through him on hearing her voice. He struggled to his feet just in time for her to come into view – and for Faith and him to realize that she wasn’t alone.
“What the hell, Sophie?” Faith asked, bringing her weapon to bear on the younger of the two women following in the grifter’s wake. “You’re three hours overdue, and you show up with Boston PD?”
Detective Rizzoli. Nate recognized the Boston homicide detective a second after Faith did. She was a good cop – more concerned about doing the right thing than keeping to the letter of the law. Not surprised she’s on the wrong side of the new regime. There was an older woman hiding behind her, clearly terrified by everything that was going on.
“Faith, hear me out,” Sophie was saying. Nate saw his daughter raise her gun – taking deliberate aim at a spot between Rizzoli’s eyes.
“No,” she said. “We can’t trust them. I’m not risking any of you on the chance that this might be a legit cry for help.”
“Faith.” He’d spoken almost before making his decision. His daughter glanced at him, still efficiently covering their guests.
“Nate, no,” she said – realizing what he was about to say. “It’s not a good risk.”
“We help people,” he said, shifting his gaze to Jane Rizzoli. “I’m not living in a world where we protect ourselves at the expense of people who need us to keep doing just that. Detective Rizzoli, you’re welcome here. Tell us what you need – and if we can help you, we will.”
Author:
telarynWord Count: 1621
Fandom: Leverage/Rizzoli & Isles/BTVS
Characters: Nate Ford, Jane Rizzoli, Angela Rizzoli, Sophie Devereaux, Faith Lehane
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None really.
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: In a Boston gone mad, the Leverage team have become a stop on the new Underground Railroad. When a member of Boston's finest approaches them for help, Faith is forced to choose between protecting her family and recognizing that some things are still more important than being safe.
Author's Note: Written for
angst_bingo, for the prompt "dystopian".“Is she back?”
Startled, Faith turned to see Nate standing at the foot of the spiral staircase, clinging to the bannister for support. “Dad, you shouldn't be out of bed.” She went to his side, slipping an arm around his chest. Nate leaned heavily against her, letting her take his weight.
“Is she back?” he repeated, his eyes full of worry as he looked up at her.
Faith sighed. “Not yet,” she admitted. “Please – if you're going to be up, at least let me put you on the couch.”
It was a mark of how much his injuries were still troubling him that Nate didn't argue with her. Moving slowly and carefully, Faith walked him over to the couch. “If you're strong enough to carry me, please don't tell me,” he said. “I feel pathetic enough as it is.” It was a weak attempt at humor, but she was willing to give him props for the effort.
“I'd have to throw you over my shoulder,” she said as she lowered him down to the couch, “and I don't think either of us wants that.” When he was settled, she perched on the edge of the nearby coffee table. “Can I get you anything?” They hadn’t reached the point of rationing their ever-dwindling supply of painkillers, but they both knew it was coming.
Nate finally shook his head. “I’m fine.” It was a lie, but Faith had learned to let him have his moments. “Any news from the others?”
Biting her lower lip, Faith shook her head. “If they don’t run into trouble, Eliot’s going to try the radio around midnight.” Eliot, Hardison and Parker were leading a group of “undesirables” out of Boston – trying to make it to a safe house over the border in New York. From there others would take over the challenge of getting the political refugees out of the country.
Nate and Faith had been on a similar trip for the new Underground Railroad two months earlier, when they’d been ambushed by State Security. The fight had been bloody and intense, and none of them had come away from it unscathed. Only one of their charges had lived – and as far as she knew, Faith was the only one so far who’d fully recovered from her injuries. Let’s hear it for Slayer powers! Even though the monsters she fought these days were primarily human, Faith’s supernatural abilities were even more valuable to the work the Leverage team had taken up for themselves.
“It’s still strange seeing you with a gun,” Nate said, glancing at Faith’s shoulder holster. She knew that for most of the team, the true mark of how bad things had gotten was the day Eliot had not only taken up his own guns again, but insisted that the rest of them start carrying. ”Speed is critical,” he’d lectured. ”We’re going to be protecting civilians against soldiers who already embrace the value of attacking from a distance. Sometimes the only advantage you have is becoming as much like your enemy as possible.”
The assessment had bothered Nate and Sophie, but practicality ultimately won out. Properly armed, the team had drilled for hours in the ruins of McCrory’s Place, until Eliot was satisfied the chances of them shooting each other were minimal.
“I’m not taking a chance with your safety,” Faith reminded Nate. “As long as you’re benched, I’m keeping any and all potential threats as far away from you as possible.”
******************
It was the first break they’d had in what seemed like weeks. Jane felt her hands begin to shake with a combination of emotion and the effort of not squeezing down on the trigger. “I’m not going to arrest you,” she said to the dark haired woman they’d run into entirely by accident. “I need your help.”
“Jane, what are you doing?”
Rizzoli shrugged off her mother’s hand before it could tighten down. “Quiet, Ma,” she snapped. To the woman in front of her she said, “Ms. Devereaux, I know who you are, and I know you work with Nathan Ford. I need you to take me to him.”
She desperately envied the woman’s composure. The city was devolving into chaos around them – Sophie Devereaux had a “shoot on sight” kill order attached to her – and she was as calm and collected as if she’d just come from a day at Bloomingdales. “I know who you are as well, Detective Rizzoli,” she said, “and if you think I’m falling for your act, you are sadly mistaken. Arrest me or shoot me – you’re not getting anywhere near Nate.”
Act… Tears of frustration burned Jane’s eyes. Hours earlier it had been her in Sophie’s position, only the person on the right side of the gun had been her brother Frankie. “Too many questions, Jane. Captain’s worried about your loyalty.”
In a burst of irony that Jane fully planned on have hysterics over later, Angela Rizzoli had gone into action in that moment – putting herself between her children in a desperate attempt to save her only daughter’s life. Jane had been prepared to scream at her to move – save herself – but it had been enough to get Frankie to waver.
”One hour,” he’d said at last. ”I’ll give you one hour before I raise the alarm, and I give you my word I won’t be the one to hunt you down. Beyond that…” Beyond that, Jane knew she’d lost him. Frankie, like Maura, had seen logic and security in the new government. Where Jane saw irrational self-serving behavior and repressive laws that stripped ordinary people of their rights, Frankie and Maura saw order being spun from chaos.
“Fine,” she growled, putting the safety on her weapon and extending it butt first in the other woman’s direction. “I’m an undesirable. So is my mother. We need to get out of the city, and you people are the only place I know that might be able to pull it off.” She sighed as Sophie took the gun. “So shoot me or leave me behind, but I need your help.”
************
Sophie was nearly three hours overdue, and Nate was getting ready to have the fight with his daughter that involved him threatening to head out and find her himself if Faith wouldn’t agree to go.
“You know the rules,” she said, holding out a glass of whiskey.
He did, and even though he desperately wanted the alcohol, Nate couldn’t help pointing out “this is just a cheap way to sedate me”. He took the glass nonetheless, trying not to visibly show how much he appreciated the taste.
“It’s your last bottle, and the odds of us finding more are almost nonexistent,” Faith pointed out, taking a seat in a nearby chair. “I may be trying to keep you from doing something stupid, but I wouldn’t call it a cheap way of going about it.”
Nate leaned back with a sigh, worry for Sophie still hanging like a cloud over everything. “You can’t seriously expect me to just sit here and do nothing.”
He was gratified to see the sympathy in Faith’s dark eyes, even though her position remained absolutely inflexible. “Nate, if you weren’t already walking wounded, you have to believe I would be out there with you beating the bushes for her.” She sighed. “Facts are facts though – she’s either been delayed for a good reason, she’s captured, or she’s dead. If it’s either of the last two, there is literally nothing we can do right now. Once the other three are back I’d be willing to try a search and rescue – until then, it’s suicide.”
It was a harsh assessment, but precisely what he needed to hear. “Once upon a time I liked having someone around who was as stubborn as me,” he grumbled.
Faith laughed. “Brain damage sets in early in our family, does it?”
Nate was saved from making a retort by the sound of a key in the lock. Faster than he could follow, Faith was on her feet – gun in hand, glaring at him to stay back.
“It’s me,” Sophie called as the door opened. Nate felt staggered by the relief that washed through him on hearing her voice. He struggled to his feet just in time for her to come into view – and for Faith and him to realize that she wasn’t alone.
“What the hell, Sophie?” Faith asked, bringing her weapon to bear on the younger of the two women following in the grifter’s wake. “You’re three hours overdue, and you show up with Boston PD?”
Detective Rizzoli. Nate recognized the Boston homicide detective a second after Faith did. She was a good cop – more concerned about doing the right thing than keeping to the letter of the law. Not surprised she’s on the wrong side of the new regime. There was an older woman hiding behind her, clearly terrified by everything that was going on.
“Faith, hear me out,” Sophie was saying. Nate saw his daughter raise her gun – taking deliberate aim at a spot between Rizzoli’s eyes.
“No,” she said. “We can’t trust them. I’m not risking any of you on the chance that this might be a legit cry for help.”
“Faith.” He’d spoken almost before making his decision. His daughter glanced at him, still efficiently covering their guests.
“Nate, no,” she said – realizing what he was about to say. “It’s not a good risk.”
“We help people,” he said, shifting his gaze to Jane Rizzoli. “I’m not living in a world where we protect ourselves at the expense of people who need us to keep doing just that. Detective Rizzoli, you’re welcome here. Tell us what you need – and if we can help you, we will.”
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