FF: Other Duties as Assigned
Title: Other Duties as Assigned
Author: Ellie elliestories
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Lysergic Acid Diethylamide" (3.19)
Summary: Astrid ponders her coworkers as they're under the influence.
****
At her cousin's bachelorette party, almost six years ago, they'd all gone to see a fortune teller. She'd promised Niki a long happy marriage, and her sister Jessie that the college acceptance letters would bring good news. When she'd flipped over Astrid's cards, she'd studied them a long time, looking pensive. Finally, she'd proclaimed that though Astrid would never have a child herself, she would be a mother. They'd all laughed at their fortunes and gone down Bourbon Street for more hurricanes, barely recalling their cards in the face of looming divorce and a graduation from Wharton.
Now, looking around the room, she thought perhaps that the nearly forgotten prophecy wasn't untrue, or as ludicrous as it had sounded at the time. She'd known children were unlikely, but she's been assigned a motley batch of coworkers to care for nonetheless. At the moment, the usual suspects are reclining on stretchers, wired and tripping. Never, when she stepped foot through the doors at Quantico, did she dream she'd be responsible for mixing up LSD and monitoring other federal employees while they were under the influence. Even now it seemed vaguely ridiculous.
Yet she'd gone along with it. Walter had asked, and she had done, as she'd done every other day since starting this job. She knew he meant well, most days, but so often it wasn't a mad scientist he reminded her of. Rather, she looked at him now, and thought not of what she'd learned from working with him--a not inconsiderable amount of knowledge--but of the uncle Niki had taken in after his stroke, physiologically functional but no longer quite there. Thoughts of Uncle Terry surfaced at Walter's most absent-minded and outrageous moments, and she took a deep breath and thought of how she'd want him treated. That Peter did so well with him surprised her, because she knew it must be a struggle; it had been for Niki, and she was a nurse, used to dealing with fractious patients.
Peter, though, was never quite what you expected of him. Initially, she'd thought him exactly the kind of man her mother had warned her about, as if any kind of man would have been a problem for her. He'd been suave and quick-tongued, but remote, even with his father, and more than a little dangerous. That he'd left his father, and still seemed to want little to do with him had troubled her in the beginning, but as she'd come to understand their relationship, several times through the years, she was astonished he even spoke to Walter. He was different now, though, with Olivia and with everyone else since he's been with Olivia. Over the past two days, with Bell possessing her, Astrid's seen him growing remote and angry again. He's willing to do this, do anything, to bring her back, and she envies that just a bit, because when he smiles close to her, it's almost enough to make her weak in the knees.
Olivia's always made her a little weak in the knees, but she knew that was never going to happen, for a thousand different reasons. Not the least of which is Peter, now and probably even after whatever apocalypse they seem to be hurtling towards. The possession by Bell had left the body more than willing, unsubtly so, but that wasn't the mere point of attraction, and would have felt worse than nothing. What kind of man took over another's body? Her personal reservations about resurrecting the dead aside, the involuntary takeover troubled her, almost as much as she'd seen it upsetting Peter.
Behind her, she heard beakers rattle and turned to see her boss, goofy smile still on his face, picking up oddly fluorescent bottles of liquid. "Sir? Are you looking for something?" She adopted the tone she took when trying to coax her shy cat out from under the sofa.
"There are so many flavors to drink!" With the grin, he looked almost handsome, instead of his normal severe self.
"Why don't you sit down and let me get you something, all right? Do you want something to eat, or just water?"
He seemed to have trouble tracking her as she approached, but when she came to his side and tried to lead him over to a stool at the empty counter, he reached out and stroked her hair, eyes growing wide as the curls sprang back up as his hand passed. "Amazing!"
She allowed herself a little laugh then, just enough to crack a smile, and took his arm. "Yes, yes it is. Now why don't you sit right here, and I'll get you some water."
"Water is magic."
"It can be. Especially in this lab. I'll get you some." Casting about, she knew there had to be something to occupy him while she ran down the hall to the vending machines. Actually giving him water found in this lab was far too risky. Finally, she saw a few containers of Play-Doh. Opening them first to assure herself that they really were mere dough, she handed the blue jar over to him. "Here, why don't you make something with this while I'm gone."
"It's electric!" He poked at the soft compound.
In Walter's lab, it was entirely possible that an insulator had been turned into a superconductor, so she quickly pinched a bit of it between her fingers, reassured to feel nothing but squishy soft goo. "Electric blue, yes it is." She patted his shoulder, then took a long look at the brainwave monitors, where everyone appeared more stable under the influence than she normally found them on a daily basis. "I'll be right back."
Broyles smiled vaguely, engrossed in the blue dough before him. Quickly, she made for the lab door, hoping for a minute of stability in her absence. With the Fringe division, she never knew what she'd be called on to handle, or how quickly the situation could change.
****
Author: Ellie elliestories
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Lysergic Acid Diethylamide" (3.19)
Summary: Astrid ponders her coworkers as they're under the influence.
****
At her cousin's bachelorette party, almost six years ago, they'd all gone to see a fortune teller. She'd promised Niki a long happy marriage, and her sister Jessie that the college acceptance letters would bring good news. When she'd flipped over Astrid's cards, she'd studied them a long time, looking pensive. Finally, she'd proclaimed that though Astrid would never have a child herself, she would be a mother. They'd all laughed at their fortunes and gone down Bourbon Street for more hurricanes, barely recalling their cards in the face of looming divorce and a graduation from Wharton.
Now, looking around the room, she thought perhaps that the nearly forgotten prophecy wasn't untrue, or as ludicrous as it had sounded at the time. She'd known children were unlikely, but she's been assigned a motley batch of coworkers to care for nonetheless. At the moment, the usual suspects are reclining on stretchers, wired and tripping. Never, when she stepped foot through the doors at Quantico, did she dream she'd be responsible for mixing up LSD and monitoring other federal employees while they were under the influence. Even now it seemed vaguely ridiculous.
Yet she'd gone along with it. Walter had asked, and she had done, as she'd done every other day since starting this job. She knew he meant well, most days, but so often it wasn't a mad scientist he reminded her of. Rather, she looked at him now, and thought not of what she'd learned from working with him--a not inconsiderable amount of knowledge--but of the uncle Niki had taken in after his stroke, physiologically functional but no longer quite there. Thoughts of Uncle Terry surfaced at Walter's most absent-minded and outrageous moments, and she took a deep breath and thought of how she'd want him treated. That Peter did so well with him surprised her, because she knew it must be a struggle; it had been for Niki, and she was a nurse, used to dealing with fractious patients.
Peter, though, was never quite what you expected of him. Initially, she'd thought him exactly the kind of man her mother had warned her about, as if any kind of man would have been a problem for her. He'd been suave and quick-tongued, but remote, even with his father, and more than a little dangerous. That he'd left his father, and still seemed to want little to do with him had troubled her in the beginning, but as she'd come to understand their relationship, several times through the years, she was astonished he even spoke to Walter. He was different now, though, with Olivia and with everyone else since he's been with Olivia. Over the past two days, with Bell possessing her, Astrid's seen him growing remote and angry again. He's willing to do this, do anything, to bring her back, and she envies that just a bit, because when he smiles close to her, it's almost enough to make her weak in the knees.
Olivia's always made her a little weak in the knees, but she knew that was never going to happen, for a thousand different reasons. Not the least of which is Peter, now and probably even after whatever apocalypse they seem to be hurtling towards. The possession by Bell had left the body more than willing, unsubtly so, but that wasn't the mere point of attraction, and would have felt worse than nothing. What kind of man took over another's body? Her personal reservations about resurrecting the dead aside, the involuntary takeover troubled her, almost as much as she'd seen it upsetting Peter.
Behind her, she heard beakers rattle and turned to see her boss, goofy smile still on his face, picking up oddly fluorescent bottles of liquid. "Sir? Are you looking for something?" She adopted the tone she took when trying to coax her shy cat out from under the sofa.
"There are so many flavors to drink!" With the grin, he looked almost handsome, instead of his normal severe self.
"Why don't you sit down and let me get you something, all right? Do you want something to eat, or just water?"
He seemed to have trouble tracking her as she approached, but when she came to his side and tried to lead him over to a stool at the empty counter, he reached out and stroked her hair, eyes growing wide as the curls sprang back up as his hand passed. "Amazing!"
She allowed herself a little laugh then, just enough to crack a smile, and took his arm. "Yes, yes it is. Now why don't you sit right here, and I'll get you some water."
"Water is magic."
"It can be. Especially in this lab. I'll get you some." Casting about, she knew there had to be something to occupy him while she ran down the hall to the vending machines. Actually giving him water found in this lab was far too risky. Finally, she saw a few containers of Play-Doh. Opening them first to assure herself that they really were mere dough, she handed the blue jar over to him. "Here, why don't you make something with this while I'm gone."
"It's electric!" He poked at the soft compound.
In Walter's lab, it was entirely possible that an insulator had been turned into a superconductor, so she quickly pinched a bit of it between her fingers, reassured to feel nothing but squishy soft goo. "Electric blue, yes it is." She patted his shoulder, then took a long look at the brainwave monitors, where everyone appeared more stable under the influence than she normally found them on a daily basis. "I'll be right back."
Broyles smiled vaguely, engrossed in the blue dough before him. Quickly, she made for the lab door, hoping for a minute of stability in her absence. With the Fringe division, she never knew what she'd be called on to handle, or how quickly the situation could change.
****