At First Glance.
Title: At First Glance
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: PG-13 For swearing?
Warnings: Rule 63 fic.
Summary: The first time Eddie sees Laurence, all grown up.
She's lighting a cigar when the kid walks in and she almost chokes. He's tall and dark like her, but with a kind of wiry muscle that brings back wispy childhood memories of her grandfather. The build is probably the only thing that's kept him passed off as Laurie's kid this long.
He's dressed in some kind of skin-tight, speed-suit, crap, and looks about as comfortable in it as a fish in the Sahara. That has Sal's name all over it. That man was always a little too concerned about his image. She has to give the kid credit though, he's doing his best to hide it, and whatever discomfort's still coming through could pass for ambivalence about this whole meeting, in general.
He is handsome, though. Just like his daddy, and Damn if she doesn't feel old.
His eyes scan over the room, taking it in, landing on each occupant, evaluating. Kinda makes her proud, that look in his eye. She's felt it slide across her features more times than she can count. He's sizing up weaknesses, figuring out, if it came down to it, who'd need to go down first, where to hit to get the most damage. His eyes slide over Dr. Manhattan, and stay there untill she looks back. He has the stones to throw her a charming smile, and Jason Slater looks like he wants to throw down the gloves there and then. Laurence finally picks up on it and resumes his once over.
There's curiosity in his eyes when he looks at the little one, but not a lot of interest. He moves on to the Night Owl's 'lil protege, and has the good sense to wait 'till after they've exchanged nods, and she's gone back to her conversation before he checks out her rack. Tension in the little one's frame says he noticed though. Protective little bugger. He apparently decides to let that one cool down before approaching the man and keeps looking.
Seeing those eyes coming she goes back to hiding behind her news paper. Suddenly her fear is a helluva lot stronger than her curiosity, and she doesn't want to see what his eyes will tell her when they meet. What he does know, What he doesn't. FUCK! Coward. Hiding behind her news paper. She probably just blew her best opportunity to find out. Now he'll have the time to get over any surprise, school his features. And here she is, chickenshit, crouched behind the Times. Probably a good thing, the way her jaw's clenched on her cigar probably makes her look like she want's to start something ...or cry. Ugh. That thought helps her pull it together.
By the time she looks over the top of the paper Laurence is giving Ozmanda the eye. She can't tell if he's impressed or horrified, but at the least, he's lost all self-consciousness about his own costume. She can see why. Bitch looks like something molded in plastic and made by Mattel. The amount of hairspray alone would announce her presence on a stakeout. No that that seems like her style, anyway.
Laurence finally lands on Nellie, and with the happy approval seeking look he's giving that Goddamned, Black-eyed, Betty Crocker, FUCK if she doesn't want to start something now.
Deep breath.
The meeting hasn't even started yet and she's already ready to punch someone. Of Course Sal would have kept in contact with Nellie. Hell, the kid was probably dandled on Holly's knee when she was little, too. She wonders if it was Brie who let him have his first drink. Probably. That doesn't burn her ass as much as she would expect. At least Brie was never a violent drunk. And she might have even passed along one or two good stories about her while reminiscing. Brie was always a pretty okay chick, not awesome, but alright. They had good times. A real shame there.
Fuck, now she's reminiscing. Better gird her loins, their starting to talk, and she can't avoid him forever.
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: PG-13 For swearing?
Warnings: Rule 63 fic.
Summary: The first time Eddie sees Laurence, all grown up.
She's lighting a cigar when the kid walks in and she almost chokes. He's tall and dark like her, but with a kind of wiry muscle that brings back wispy childhood memories of her grandfather. The build is probably the only thing that's kept him passed off as Laurie's kid this long.
He's dressed in some kind of skin-tight, speed-suit, crap, and looks about as comfortable in it as a fish in the Sahara. That has Sal's name all over it. That man was always a little too concerned about his image. She has to give the kid credit though, he's doing his best to hide it, and whatever discomfort's still coming through could pass for ambivalence about this whole meeting, in general.
He is handsome, though. Just like his daddy, and Damn if she doesn't feel old.
His eyes scan over the room, taking it in, landing on each occupant, evaluating. Kinda makes her proud, that look in his eye. She's felt it slide across her features more times than she can count. He's sizing up weaknesses, figuring out, if it came down to it, who'd need to go down first, where to hit to get the most damage. His eyes slide over Dr. Manhattan, and stay there untill she looks back. He has the stones to throw her a charming smile, and Jason Slater looks like he wants to throw down the gloves there and then. Laurence finally picks up on it and resumes his once over.
There's curiosity in his eyes when he looks at the little one, but not a lot of interest. He moves on to the Night Owl's 'lil protege, and has the good sense to wait 'till after they've exchanged nods, and she's gone back to her conversation before he checks out her rack. Tension in the little one's frame says he noticed though. Protective little bugger. He apparently decides to let that one cool down before approaching the man and keeps looking.
Seeing those eyes coming she goes back to hiding behind her news paper. Suddenly her fear is a helluva lot stronger than her curiosity, and she doesn't want to see what his eyes will tell her when they meet. What he does know, What he doesn't. FUCK! Coward. Hiding behind her news paper. She probably just blew her best opportunity to find out. Now he'll have the time to get over any surprise, school his features. And here she is, chickenshit, crouched behind the Times. Probably a good thing, the way her jaw's clenched on her cigar probably makes her look like she want's to start something ...or cry. Ugh. That thought helps her pull it together.
By the time she looks over the top of the paper Laurence is giving Ozmanda the eye. She can't tell if he's impressed or horrified, but at the least, he's lost all self-consciousness about his own costume. She can see why. Bitch looks like something molded in plastic and made by Mattel. The amount of hairspray alone would announce her presence on a stakeout. No that that seems like her style, anyway.
Laurence finally lands on Nellie, and with the happy approval seeking look he's giving that Goddamned, Black-eyed, Betty Crocker, FUCK if she doesn't want to start something now.
Deep breath.
The meeting hasn't even started yet and she's already ready to punch someone. Of Course Sal would have kept in contact with Nellie. Hell, the kid was probably dandled on Holly's knee when she was little, too. She wonders if it was Brie who let him have his first drink. Probably. That doesn't burn her ass as much as she would expect. At least Brie was never a violent drunk. And she might have even passed along one or two good stories about her while reminiscing. Brie was always a pretty okay chick, not awesome, but alright. They had good times. A real shame there.
Fuck, now she's reminiscing. Better gird her loins, their starting to talk, and she can't avoid him forever.