the middleman fic: the toilsome rookie hunt
Title: The Toilsome Rookie Hunt
Summary: It takes her more than a year to find an apprentice of her own. (Spoilers for Doomsday Armageddon Apocalypse - the graphic novel/Comic-Con ep.)
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Javi.
Notes: I don't know where this came from. I just wrote it down quick before it slipped away. If it sucks, that's why.
It takes her more than a year to find an apprentice of her own.
(She resents him the whole time.)
There was the musician, the college kid, the former stockbroker. The musician lasted two months; the college kid, three weeks. Despite his lack of reaction when his former boss spontaneously combusted, the stockbroker fainted when Wendy plugged Ida in to recharge for the night on his first day.
Wendy drove them all to the airport when they left for Greenland. It was her fault they were moving after all.
(She drives his car now. More than a year and she still can't get the mirrors right.)
She asks Ida if they still have Tyler's file: if he was a good candidate all those years ago, maybe she can recruit him now. Ida shakes her head: "We learned our lesson after Clarence and Raveena. No more couples."
(He's never Clarence to her. Not even now. He's still Boss, always will be.)
The missions are starting to take their toll, all alone, watching her own six. She's tired and sore and lonely but when she starts to slip she reminds herself that Bossman did it on his own until he found her and she manages to suck it up until she's back at HQ, when she can slump against the lockers in the dressing room and catch a nap underneath an Eisenhower jacket until Ida rouses her with another redball.
She sees him at the coffee shop where Tyler used to play one Sunday morning. Ida had been left with strict instructions not to call unless an apocalypse was less than twelve hours away and she was determined to spend the day with Tyler. He's in the next line over, standing too straight, hair too short.
Tyler notices her staring: "Thought you only had eyes for me." He's teasing. When he smiles, she remembers him lying dead, electrocuted. That memory has been cropping up more recently again and she can't figure out why. She shakes her head.
"He reminds me of my old boss."
"Have you heard from him lately?"
"No."
"I wonder how retirement's treating him. Retiring to spend more time with the love of his life." Tyler smiles down at her. "Gonna have to try that myself one of these days."
"Not too soon," she says, eyes downcast.
(It's not a lie, just a retelling of the truth. Retiring to spend more time with the love of his life sounds so much nicer than dying in a hail of gunfire.)
When a group of teenagers comes up to ask Tyler for his autograph, she sneaks away and finds him sitting alone at a corner table; he's facing the door with his back to the wall and that fact is the one that gets her to walk over.
"You military?" She asks, short and to the point because that's the way she does things now. She can't talk to people the way Boss did. The stress of doing this job alone for so many months has left her somewhat short-tempered.
He blinks, surprised: "Army Rangers, ma'am."
"Active?"
"Not anymore."
She hands him a Jolly Fats business card. "Might have a job for you. Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock."
He arrives at nine fifty-eight. His pants are pressed and his shoes are shined. When Ida pops off her faceplate, he laughs.
"He's not Clarence," warns Ida, like she doesn't know. His grin isn't crooked and he swears like she does and she doesn't think he would ever wear an Eisenhower jacket (not that she would ever give him the option - as far as she's concerned, that particular uniform has been permanently retired).
But he shoots as straight as he stands, and the value he places on things like honor and loyalty is unmatched in the living world, and he calls her "ma'am" (blushing, because it's habit more than anything else). She's missed this, having a tall, polite, frighteningly capable man watching her back.
She misses him.
(She considered, once, going to Roxy and asking for the Scythe for a quick trip to the Underworld. But Tyler wanted to play her a new song and Lacey had another idea for the next Art Crawl and she didn't have a chance to get drunk enough to think it was a good idea.)
She misses him, but the new guy's good. And it's about time she was the Boss.
Summary: It takes her more than a year to find an apprentice of her own. (Spoilers for Doomsday Armageddon Apocalypse - the graphic novel/Comic-Con ep.)
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Javi.
Notes: I don't know where this came from. I just wrote it down quick before it slipped away. If it sucks, that's why.
It takes her more than a year to find an apprentice of her own.
(She resents him the whole time.)
There was the musician, the college kid, the former stockbroker. The musician lasted two months; the college kid, three weeks. Despite his lack of reaction when his former boss spontaneously combusted, the stockbroker fainted when Wendy plugged Ida in to recharge for the night on his first day.
Wendy drove them all to the airport when they left for Greenland. It was her fault they were moving after all.
(She drives his car now. More than a year and she still can't get the mirrors right.)
She asks Ida if they still have Tyler's file: if he was a good candidate all those years ago, maybe she can recruit him now. Ida shakes her head: "We learned our lesson after Clarence and Raveena. No more couples."
(He's never Clarence to her. Not even now. He's still Boss, always will be.)
The missions are starting to take their toll, all alone, watching her own six. She's tired and sore and lonely but when she starts to slip she reminds herself that Bossman did it on his own until he found her and she manages to suck it up until she's back at HQ, when she can slump against the lockers in the dressing room and catch a nap underneath an Eisenhower jacket until Ida rouses her with another redball.
She sees him at the coffee shop where Tyler used to play one Sunday morning. Ida had been left with strict instructions not to call unless an apocalypse was less than twelve hours away and she was determined to spend the day with Tyler. He's in the next line over, standing too straight, hair too short.
Tyler notices her staring: "Thought you only had eyes for me." He's teasing. When he smiles, she remembers him lying dead, electrocuted. That memory has been cropping up more recently again and she can't figure out why. She shakes her head.
"He reminds me of my old boss."
"Have you heard from him lately?"
"No."
"I wonder how retirement's treating him. Retiring to spend more time with the love of his life." Tyler smiles down at her. "Gonna have to try that myself one of these days."
"Not too soon," she says, eyes downcast.
(It's not a lie, just a retelling of the truth. Retiring to spend more time with the love of his life sounds so much nicer than dying in a hail of gunfire.)
When a group of teenagers comes up to ask Tyler for his autograph, she sneaks away and finds him sitting alone at a corner table; he's facing the door with his back to the wall and that fact is the one that gets her to walk over.
"You military?" She asks, short and to the point because that's the way she does things now. She can't talk to people the way Boss did. The stress of doing this job alone for so many months has left her somewhat short-tempered.
He blinks, surprised: "Army Rangers, ma'am."
"Active?"
"Not anymore."
She hands him a Jolly Fats business card. "Might have a job for you. Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock."
He arrives at nine fifty-eight. His pants are pressed and his shoes are shined. When Ida pops off her faceplate, he laughs.
"He's not Clarence," warns Ida, like she doesn't know. His grin isn't crooked and he swears like she does and she doesn't think he would ever wear an Eisenhower jacket (not that she would ever give him the option - as far as she's concerned, that particular uniform has been permanently retired).
But he shoots as straight as he stands, and the value he places on things like honor and loyalty is unmatched in the living world, and he calls her "ma'am" (blushing, because it's habit more than anything else). She's missed this, having a tall, polite, frighteningly capable man watching her back.
She misses him.
(She considered, once, going to Roxy and asking for the Scythe for a quick trip to the Underworld. But Tyler wanted to play her a new song and Lacey had another idea for the next Art Crawl and she didn't have a chance to get drunk enough to think it was a good idea.)
She misses him, but the new guy's good. And it's about time she was the Boss.