Fic: Now Cracks A Noble Heart
Title: Now Cracks A Noble Heart
Rating: G
Word Count: 657
Spoilers: All of SPN so far. And as long as you've seen the pilot of Angel, you really won't be spoiled for anything else.
Summary: Sam goes to a meeting that could help him get Dean back.
Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or Supernatural. They belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke. The title comes from a quote from Hamlet. Which, you know, I obviously also don't own.
Note: I don't even know where this one came from. Seems to be the case lately! Ah well. Anyway, this was written for tamingthemuse (prompt: in absentia).
Sam walked through the lobby, barely sparing the woman behind the desk a glance. He kept going until he reached the elevator, pressing the button that would take him up, ignoring the way the woman was trying to get his attention.
"Sir," she called as the elevator dinged. "Sir!"
Sam couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on his face as he walked into the elevator and punched in the seven. He was betting that security would be called and there was definitely a chance that they'd try to escort him out of the building.
Not that it would do any good. Sam was expected after all.
He turned as the doors opened and walked through them, feeling a bit amused over the fact that there was no security guards there to meet him.
Briefly, he wondered if she had actually called security and found out that he was here for a meeting before pushing the thought aside. That didn't matter now.
He scanned the panel that indicated which direction led to which offices before heading towards the right. Around him, he could hear phrases that were all too familiar to him, things like "in absentia" and "subpoena the witness". It took him back to a time when he stayed up late studying for an important exam, a time when Jess would put a plate of cookies next to him on the table and tell him it was to help keep his energy levels up.
He shook his head again and turned the corner, stopping in front of the first door on the right. He glanced at the name engraved into the name plaque before knocking twice and walking through the open door.
The man behind the desk looked up. "Sam Winchester," he said, standing. Sam nodded at him.
"Lindsey McDonald."
"Sit down, Sam." Lindsey smiled. "It's all right if I call you Sam, isn't it?"
Sam raised an eyebrow, recognizing what he was doing. "You already have so you might as well continue."
An emotion flashed through Lindsey's eyes too fast for Sam to identify before the smile changed slightly and became a grin. "I guess you've got me there." He motioned to the seat in front of his desk and only raised an eyebrow when Sam waited until he'd sat down before sitting down himself. "What can I help you with?"
Somehow, Sam was sure that there was practically nothing that Lindsey McDonald didn't know about why he was there. He tilted his head. "I think we should establish whether or not you'll be able to help me first."
This time Sam knew exactly what emotion was in Lindsey's eyes and he fought not to grin at the thought that he was responsible for the frustration there.
"I can assure you, with the contact that we have, Sam, we will without a doubt be able to help you get your brother back."
Sam kept his expression blank, refusing to reveal anything to the man. Not yet. "Then you know why I'm here."
It wasn't a question but Lindsey answered anyway. "Yes."
"Tell me how you can help me, Lindsey." Sam watched as Lindsey shifted under his gaze and silently thanked his father for that ability.
"So, you'll agree?"
"Not until I know what it is you have that can help me."
Lindsey's entire demeanor changed and he sat back, a definite air of satisfaction around him. "I know the demon that holds his contract."
Sam ruthlessly kept the surprise and hope from showing on his face or in his voice when he spoke. "You know the demon," he said.
Now Lindsey smiled, slowly. "Of course. After all, she's one of our most important clients."
His gaze, when it met Lindsey's, was full of determination. He only said two words but those two words were enough to tell Lindsey that he was willing to really deal with them if it meant getting his brother back.
"Start talking."
Rating: G
Word Count: 657
Spoilers: All of SPN so far. And as long as you've seen the pilot of Angel, you really won't be spoiled for anything else.
Summary: Sam goes to a meeting that could help him get Dean back.
Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or Supernatural. They belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke. The title comes from a quote from Hamlet. Which, you know, I obviously also don't own.
Note: I don't even know where this one came from. Seems to be the case lately! Ah well. Anyway, this was written for tamingthemuse (prompt: in absentia).
Sam walked through the lobby, barely sparing the woman behind the desk a glance. He kept going until he reached the elevator, pressing the button that would take him up, ignoring the way the woman was trying to get his attention.
"Sir," she called as the elevator dinged. "Sir!"
Sam couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on his face as he walked into the elevator and punched in the seven. He was betting that security would be called and there was definitely a chance that they'd try to escort him out of the building.
Not that it would do any good. Sam was expected after all.
He turned as the doors opened and walked through them, feeling a bit amused over the fact that there was no security guards there to meet him.
Briefly, he wondered if she had actually called security and found out that he was here for a meeting before pushing the thought aside. That didn't matter now.
He scanned the panel that indicated which direction led to which offices before heading towards the right. Around him, he could hear phrases that were all too familiar to him, things like "in absentia" and "subpoena the witness". It took him back to a time when he stayed up late studying for an important exam, a time when Jess would put a plate of cookies next to him on the table and tell him it was to help keep his energy levels up.
He shook his head again and turned the corner, stopping in front of the first door on the right. He glanced at the name engraved into the name plaque before knocking twice and walking through the open door.
The man behind the desk looked up. "Sam Winchester," he said, standing. Sam nodded at him.
"Lindsey McDonald."
"Sit down, Sam." Lindsey smiled. "It's all right if I call you Sam, isn't it?"
Sam raised an eyebrow, recognizing what he was doing. "You already have so you might as well continue."
An emotion flashed through Lindsey's eyes too fast for Sam to identify before the smile changed slightly and became a grin. "I guess you've got me there." He motioned to the seat in front of his desk and only raised an eyebrow when Sam waited until he'd sat down before sitting down himself. "What can I help you with?"
Somehow, Sam was sure that there was practically nothing that Lindsey McDonald didn't know about why he was there. He tilted his head. "I think we should establish whether or not you'll be able to help me first."
This time Sam knew exactly what emotion was in Lindsey's eyes and he fought not to grin at the thought that he was responsible for the frustration there.
"I can assure you, with the contact that we have, Sam, we will without a doubt be able to help you get your brother back."
Sam kept his expression blank, refusing to reveal anything to the man. Not yet. "Then you know why I'm here."
It wasn't a question but Lindsey answered anyway. "Yes."
"Tell me how you can help me, Lindsey." Sam watched as Lindsey shifted under his gaze and silently thanked his father for that ability.
"So, you'll agree?"
"Not until I know what it is you have that can help me."
Lindsey's entire demeanor changed and he sat back, a definite air of satisfaction around him. "I know the demon that holds his contract."
Sam ruthlessly kept the surprise and hope from showing on his face or in his voice when he spoke. "You know the demon," he said.
Now Lindsey smiled, slowly. "Of course. After all, she's one of our most important clients."
His gaze, when it met Lindsey's, was full of determination. He only said two words but those two words were enough to tell Lindsey that he was willing to really deal with them if it meant getting his brother back.
"Start talking."