Angst Bingo Round 3 Fic #2.8
9/2/12 10:55![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
telarynTitle: Validation
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telaryn
Word Count: 1707
Fandom: SPN/AtS
Characters: Ellen, Jo, Lindsey McDonald
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Ellen meets an unknown piece of Eliot's past in a most unexpected way.
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
angst_bingo's Round 3, for the prompt "broken dreams".
A vampire with a lawyer.
Ellen Harvelle was too old to lie to herself and imagine that she knew everything there was to know about the supernatural world, but this beat anything she’d ever run across before. “What’s he gonna do?” she asked her daughter. Jo was pacing the room obsessively – she’d finally abandoned looking for a way to escape, but didn’t seem to be able to settle.
“I don’t know,” she snapped, throwing up her hands, “hit us with a restraining order?”
The idea sounded ridiculous on its face, and Jo clearly didn’t believe what she was saying, but Ellen literally couldn’t think of anything else that made sense. “They had us dead to rights,” she pointed out. “They didn’t have to put us on ice until some attorney showed up.”
Jo scowled. “I could have taken the little one.”
Ellen let the moment of bravado pass without comment. Jo knew what she’d done wrong, and once the crisis had passed she would own that it was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. Anybody would have fallen for that trap though, Ellen thought, remembering the trip wire that had kicked off all the excitement. It was only dumb luck that Jo had been the one in front as they tracked their prey.
Time slowed to a crawl. Ellen ran a mental check of her weapons, disassembling and reassembling each one in her head, assembled “to do” lists – anything to keep her mind from wandering. Jo eventually tired of her obsessive pacing, flopping into one of the room’s other chairs with an explosive sigh of frustration. “Be easier if they’d bled us,” she grumbled.
Ellen raised an eyebrow, and her daughter glared at her. “You know what I meant.”
They were spared Jo going off on another rant by the sound of a key in the lock. “Finally,” Jo sighed, getting to her feet. Ellen followed suit. Whatever it is, gotta meet it on our feet.
Dennison’s bodyguards came in first – bulked up vampires in cheap suits, who took up positions on either side of the doorway. A slender man in an expensive tailored suit strode in behind them, carrying a briefcase. Without missing a beat he swung it up onto the table in the center of the room.
He looked up – meeting Ellen’s gaze – and the bottom dropped out of her world.
Eliot Spencer.
He’d come into her life by chance – a complete stranger – and in a little over a year had changed everything. Ellen was too old and too tired to believe in love at first sight; in fact, the only time they’d actually said the words was the morning Eliot had left for good, and if she was being honest they hadn’t really said them to each other. There was something about the way he’d fit so perfectly into her world though, a sense that she’d been waiting for him to show up so her life could continue the way it was supposed to.
She’d never asked him for forever and he hadn’t offered. Eliot had lived too hard to settle anywhere by the time she’d met him, and Ellen had been too proud to beg for anyone’s attention. She missed him though – his absence was a wrong note in every day she spent without him.
The man standing across from her though…even if you stripped away the expensive corporate veneer, Ellen could tell it wasn’t immediately obvious. His skin…the way he holds himself…the mouth… Hundreds of tiny differences flashed through her mind in a heartbeat.
Jo had missed everything Ellen saw. Still bleeding nervous energy, she was alternating between pleading with the man she thought was Eliot and cursing him for his presence in this scenario. Ellen suspected only the presence of the vampire muscle kept her daughter from physically attacking the attorney.
The “Not-Eliot”, whoever he was, listened to Jo’s tirade without reacting. Ellen could see it in his eyes, though – a shrewdness as he took in the information she was giving up, processing it and filing it away for some future use. Ellen let it go on long enough to be sure of her suspicions then snapped, “Joella Beth, sit down!” When her daughter turned on her, eyes flashing, Ellen added quietly, “It’s not him.”
Jo’s expression went from angry to incredulous in a heartbeat. “What do you mean it’s not..?” Her voice trailed off as she tried to get ahead of her mother’s thought process. Ellen could see all the expected supernatural explanations passing through Jo’s mind, but she’d finally realized that the truth was far more mundane.
“You know Eliot?” The eyes – so familiar and at the same time much colder than they should have been – were suddenly fixed on her.
Ellen didn’t flinch. “You first,” she said, her expression challenging.
The man stared at her for a long moment. Ellen had the sense that she was being weighed and measured against what he knew of Eliot. “My name is Lindsey McDonald,” he said at last, no trace of Eliot’s drawl in his accent. “I am Mr. Dennison’s attorney.”
*****************
The speech was so automatic Lindsey could have delivered it in his sleep. By coming here you have violated a legally binding agreement between Mr. Dennison and the residents of… Where the hell was he anyway? Montana? He’d been on the first flight out of Los Angeles, but that had followed nearly four days of cat naps in his office preparing for the trial he was second chairing next week.
Hunters were a minor annoyance in his work, something he typically would have left to an associate to handle, but Dennison was a valued client of the firm.
And he liked Lindsey.
It was hard not to stare at the older woman as he laid out his papers and detailed the terms of the restraining order. She knows Eliot. Well enough that she’d figured out almost at a glance that Lindsey wasn’t him. He stole a quick look at the young blond under the guise of indicating where the women needed to sign. She was more the type he would have figured for somebody close to his brother – beautiful, strong, and a blazing temper.
But it wasn’t you.
“I’ll walk you ladies out,” he said finally, once their business was concluded. “Your weapons will be returned to the address you provided within ten to fourteen working days.” He turned slightly to address the senior of Dennison’s bodyguards. “Please tell Mr. Dennison I’ll meet him in his office in ten minutes.”
The vampire looked like he was going to protest. “Are you sure you don’t need one of us to go along with you?”
It was a risk – normally Lindsey would have let the bodyguards take care of escorting the prisoners and not thought for a second about the possibility that they might get hungry on the three flight journey down to the street. Now though…
“I’ll be fine,” he said, “These two are hardly a risk.”
**********
Ellen put a warning hand on Jo’s forearm. We’re getting out of here, she thought, willing her daughter’s good sense to finally come to bear. Don’t blow it.
She half expected the questions to start as soon as they were alone, but Lindsey McDonald was a very cautious man. It wasn’t until they reached the safety of the sun drenched sidewalk that he spoke at all. “He never told me about you.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Ellen countered automatically. “He never told me about you either.” It hadn’t been in any of the files she’d had Ash investigate on him either, but Ellen had to allow that once her old friend had gotten a whiff of “black ops” in their midst he wouldn’t have given a tinker’s damn about Eliot’s family.
“Have you talked to him?” Jo asked. “Recently?” It was the question Ellen was too scared to ask for herself; her heart hammered against her chest as she waited for Lindsey’s answer.
“About four months ago,” was the answer. “He usually checks in when he’s between jobs.”
He’s alive. Relief washed over Ellen unexpectedly, making it difficult to breathe for a second. Until that moment she hadn’t understood how much she was dreading finding out too late that Eliot had been killed on a job. She knew the kind of work he did – even more than the average hunter, early death was almost a certainty for somebody like that.
“Ms. Harvelle?”
Ellen laughed bitterly, caught entirely off-guard by the formal address. “Look,” she told Lindsey, “if you’re going to wear his face and talk to me with his voice, you might as well call me Ellen.”
His expression was suddenly inscrutable. “Ellen,” he said, starting again. “When was the last time..?” His voice trailed off, but Ellen knew automatically what he was fishing for.
“It’s been a while,” she said, being deliberately vague. “And I don’t expect I’ll run into him again anytime soon.” After leaving the first time he’d come back to her once – hunted and desperate, he’d zero’d in on his time with her as the only safe place to go to ground. She’d still had The Roadhouse then, a house, a routine, and something resembling a normal, stable life.
All of that was gone now. She’d taken the road with Jo over a year ago, committing herself fully to the life of a hunter. If Eliot did manage to find her now, Ellen knew she’d be hard-pressed to dismiss the idea of fate.
You could always ask, she thought, focusing on Lindsey. But even as the thought flashed through her mind, Ellen knew she’d never be able to speak the words. Eliot had a reason for keeping her from his brother and vice versa. She would respect that, no matter the cost.
The attorney’s expression had gone shrewd again. “Never a good idea to start dreaming of a future with somebody like that, huh?”
“We never promised each other anything,” Ellen said flatly. “I never asked him to stay, and I never planned for it to be one second longer than it was.”
He knew she was lying as soon as she said the last part. Ellen was grateful that he let it pass.
Author:
telarynWord Count: 1707
Fandom: SPN/AtS
Characters: Ellen, Jo, Lindsey McDonald
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Ellen meets an unknown piece of Eliot's past in a most unexpected way.
Author's Note: Written for
angst_bingo's Round 3, for the prompt "broken dreams".A vampire with a lawyer.
Ellen Harvelle was too old to lie to herself and imagine that she knew everything there was to know about the supernatural world, but this beat anything she’d ever run across before. “What’s he gonna do?” she asked her daughter. Jo was pacing the room obsessively – she’d finally abandoned looking for a way to escape, but didn’t seem to be able to settle.
“I don’t know,” she snapped, throwing up her hands, “hit us with a restraining order?”
The idea sounded ridiculous on its face, and Jo clearly didn’t believe what she was saying, but Ellen literally couldn’t think of anything else that made sense. “They had us dead to rights,” she pointed out. “They didn’t have to put us on ice until some attorney showed up.”
Jo scowled. “I could have taken the little one.”
Ellen let the moment of bravado pass without comment. Jo knew what she’d done wrong, and once the crisis had passed she would own that it was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. Anybody would have fallen for that trap though, Ellen thought, remembering the trip wire that had kicked off all the excitement. It was only dumb luck that Jo had been the one in front as they tracked their prey.
Time slowed to a crawl. Ellen ran a mental check of her weapons, disassembling and reassembling each one in her head, assembled “to do” lists – anything to keep her mind from wandering. Jo eventually tired of her obsessive pacing, flopping into one of the room’s other chairs with an explosive sigh of frustration. “Be easier if they’d bled us,” she grumbled.
Ellen raised an eyebrow, and her daughter glared at her. “You know what I meant.”
They were spared Jo going off on another rant by the sound of a key in the lock. “Finally,” Jo sighed, getting to her feet. Ellen followed suit. Whatever it is, gotta meet it on our feet.
Dennison’s bodyguards came in first – bulked up vampires in cheap suits, who took up positions on either side of the doorway. A slender man in an expensive tailored suit strode in behind them, carrying a briefcase. Without missing a beat he swung it up onto the table in the center of the room.
He looked up – meeting Ellen’s gaze – and the bottom dropped out of her world.
Eliot Spencer.
He’d come into her life by chance – a complete stranger – and in a little over a year had changed everything. Ellen was too old and too tired to believe in love at first sight; in fact, the only time they’d actually said the words was the morning Eliot had left for good, and if she was being honest they hadn’t really said them to each other. There was something about the way he’d fit so perfectly into her world though, a sense that she’d been waiting for him to show up so her life could continue the way it was supposed to.
She’d never asked him for forever and he hadn’t offered. Eliot had lived too hard to settle anywhere by the time she’d met him, and Ellen had been too proud to beg for anyone’s attention. She missed him though – his absence was a wrong note in every day she spent without him.
The man standing across from her though…even if you stripped away the expensive corporate veneer, Ellen could tell it wasn’t immediately obvious. His skin…the way he holds himself…the mouth… Hundreds of tiny differences flashed through her mind in a heartbeat.
Jo had missed everything Ellen saw. Still bleeding nervous energy, she was alternating between pleading with the man she thought was Eliot and cursing him for his presence in this scenario. Ellen suspected only the presence of the vampire muscle kept her daughter from physically attacking the attorney.
The “Not-Eliot”, whoever he was, listened to Jo’s tirade without reacting. Ellen could see it in his eyes, though – a shrewdness as he took in the information she was giving up, processing it and filing it away for some future use. Ellen let it go on long enough to be sure of her suspicions then snapped, “Joella Beth, sit down!” When her daughter turned on her, eyes flashing, Ellen added quietly, “It’s not him.”
Jo’s expression went from angry to incredulous in a heartbeat. “What do you mean it’s not..?” Her voice trailed off as she tried to get ahead of her mother’s thought process. Ellen could see all the expected supernatural explanations passing through Jo’s mind, but she’d finally realized that the truth was far more mundane.
“You know Eliot?” The eyes – so familiar and at the same time much colder than they should have been – were suddenly fixed on her.
Ellen didn’t flinch. “You first,” she said, her expression challenging.
The man stared at her for a long moment. Ellen had the sense that she was being weighed and measured against what he knew of Eliot. “My name is Lindsey McDonald,” he said at last, no trace of Eliot’s drawl in his accent. “I am Mr. Dennison’s attorney.”
*****************
The speech was so automatic Lindsey could have delivered it in his sleep. By coming here you have violated a legally binding agreement between Mr. Dennison and the residents of… Where the hell was he anyway? Montana? He’d been on the first flight out of Los Angeles, but that had followed nearly four days of cat naps in his office preparing for the trial he was second chairing next week.
Hunters were a minor annoyance in his work, something he typically would have left to an associate to handle, but Dennison was a valued client of the firm.
And he liked Lindsey.
It was hard not to stare at the older woman as he laid out his papers and detailed the terms of the restraining order. She knows Eliot. Well enough that she’d figured out almost at a glance that Lindsey wasn’t him. He stole a quick look at the young blond under the guise of indicating where the women needed to sign. She was more the type he would have figured for somebody close to his brother – beautiful, strong, and a blazing temper.
But it wasn’t you.
“I’ll walk you ladies out,” he said finally, once their business was concluded. “Your weapons will be returned to the address you provided within ten to fourteen working days.” He turned slightly to address the senior of Dennison’s bodyguards. “Please tell Mr. Dennison I’ll meet him in his office in ten minutes.”
The vampire looked like he was going to protest. “Are you sure you don’t need one of us to go along with you?”
It was a risk – normally Lindsey would have let the bodyguards take care of escorting the prisoners and not thought for a second about the possibility that they might get hungry on the three flight journey down to the street. Now though…
“I’ll be fine,” he said, “These two are hardly a risk.”
**********
Ellen put a warning hand on Jo’s forearm. We’re getting out of here, she thought, willing her daughter’s good sense to finally come to bear. Don’t blow it.
She half expected the questions to start as soon as they were alone, but Lindsey McDonald was a very cautious man. It wasn’t until they reached the safety of the sun drenched sidewalk that he spoke at all. “He never told me about you.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Ellen countered automatically. “He never told me about you either.” It hadn’t been in any of the files she’d had Ash investigate on him either, but Ellen had to allow that once her old friend had gotten a whiff of “black ops” in their midst he wouldn’t have given a tinker’s damn about Eliot’s family.
“Have you talked to him?” Jo asked. “Recently?” It was the question Ellen was too scared to ask for herself; her heart hammered against her chest as she waited for Lindsey’s answer.
“About four months ago,” was the answer. “He usually checks in when he’s between jobs.”
He’s alive. Relief washed over Ellen unexpectedly, making it difficult to breathe for a second. Until that moment she hadn’t understood how much she was dreading finding out too late that Eliot had been killed on a job. She knew the kind of work he did – even more than the average hunter, early death was almost a certainty for somebody like that.
“Ms. Harvelle?”
Ellen laughed bitterly, caught entirely off-guard by the formal address. “Look,” she told Lindsey, “if you’re going to wear his face and talk to me with his voice, you might as well call me Ellen.”
His expression was suddenly inscrutable. “Ellen,” he said, starting again. “When was the last time..?” His voice trailed off, but Ellen knew automatically what he was fishing for.
“It’s been a while,” she said, being deliberately vague. “And I don’t expect I’ll run into him again anytime soon.” After leaving the first time he’d come back to her once – hunted and desperate, he’d zero’d in on his time with her as the only safe place to go to ground. She’d still had The Roadhouse then, a house, a routine, and something resembling a normal, stable life.
All of that was gone now. She’d taken the road with Jo over a year ago, committing herself fully to the life of a hunter. If Eliot did manage to find her now, Ellen knew she’d be hard-pressed to dismiss the idea of fate.
You could always ask, she thought, focusing on Lindsey. But even as the thought flashed through her mind, Ellen knew she’d never be able to speak the words. Eliot had a reason for keeping her from his brother and vice versa. She would respect that, no matter the cost.
The attorney’s expression had gone shrewd again. “Never a good idea to start dreaming of a future with somebody like that, huh?”
“We never promised each other anything,” Ellen said flatly. “I never asked him to stay, and I never planned for it to be one second longer than it was.”
He knew she was lying as soon as she said the last part. Ellen was grateful that he let it pass.
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