Fic: (Long Island Iced) Tea and (Extremely Awkward) Sympathy...
Title: (Long Island Iced)Tea & (Extremely Awkward)Sympathy
Fandom: Law & Order: SIU rpg (if you want to be technical, L&O/L&O:CI crossover for this particular piece)
Characters: Connie Rubirosa, Danny Ross, mentions of others.
Word Count: 2,035
Rating: G
Summary: After the rest of the gang clears out of the bar, an ADA and a high-ranking CO have an amusing and awkward conversation. While this was originally part of an rp log, you don't need to be acquainted with the SIU game to be able to follow this--there are a few things here or there that may seem odd, but for the most part, it explains itself. SIUers: This takes place Sunday night, at the bar, after basically everyone else has gone.
Author's Notes: Danny Ross dialogue is credited to neojess. All L&O canon characters are property of Dick Wolf.
The bar, which had just been loudly bustling with detectives and a few lawyers suddenly died down. Connie Rubirosa crossed her legs and realized that the only ones left at their end of the bar were herself and Captain Danny Ross.
“Long Island iced tea,” Ross requested of the bartender.
Connie, wondering if she should go or not, absently folded her cocktail napkin into an origami shape.
“What are you making?” Ross asked, looking over.
“Swan,” Connie said, holding up a lopsided swan that didn’t fold very well because of the thin napkin. She knew Ross only slightly, from working on the last case that Homicide had helped Major Case with.
Ross nodded. “One of the boys had to do a project on the Hiroshima cranes.”
“I remember that,” Connie smiled. “Back in…what grade are they in?”
“It was when my oldest was in…fourth or fifth grade.” Ross took a sip of his just-arrived Long Island iced tea.
“Sounds about right,” Connie said, checking her watch. Realizing she really had nothing better to do, she ordered another rum and coke.
“Yes,” Ross said, “And of course, Jeremy waited until the night before to fold his part of the class’s project.”
Connie chuckled as she finished another cocktail napkin swan. “So you spent all night doing it for him?”
“Yes, I did,” Ross said, remembering.
The young ADA smiled. “Sounds like you’re a good dad, then.”
Ross’s face was not amused. “When I’m around, as I’m so often reminded.”
“I’m sure you’re around more often than most,” Connie shrugged. She didn’t know much about the captain, other than what he’d just related to Wheeler before everyone had left, and what she’d seen at work, but he didn’t seem like the deadbeat dad type.
“Really?” Ross looked at her, questioningly.
“I could be wrong,” Connie said. “But you don’t strike me as the willful-child-neglector type.”
“It’s not willful.” Ross took another drink.
“I meant…” Connie thought a moment. “…that you seem like the type who spends as much time with his kids as he can.”
“Now I do,” Ross said, setting down his glass. “And you know…that really depends, I suppose.”
“What does?”
“How much time you can spend.”
Connie nodded, interested.
Ross went on. “I put a lot into my career. It’s my life, too.”
“It is,” Connie agreed.
“Your boss would understand,” Ross looked at her, “We were supposed to change the world.”
“I think anyone in a public servant’s job can understand that to a degree,” Connie said with a nod.
“And meanwhile, the world didn’t change for us,” Ross mused, the alcohol settling in to his system as he downed his drink.
“But you try to do what you can?” Connie asked.
“For who?” Ross’s brows raised a little. “The job? My career-is that for my boys?” He shook his head. “Or is it for me? Let’s not lie. It’s mine.”
Unprepared to respond to existential thinking this late at night, and with almost three rum and Cokes in her system, Connie nodded again and only said, “Sorry, I don’t have kids.”
“I want them to be proud of it, but they can’t be right now,” Ross shrugged. “It’s a heartbreak.”
Keenly feeling the awkwardness of being on the listening end of the older cop’s thoughts, Connie thought about how to change the subject.
“…so…uh…Detective Wheeler seems nice,” she said, of the redheaded detective she’d just met that night.
“Megan?” Danny came back from his thoughts.
“Yes,” Connie nodded.
“She is,” he said. “Which is good because the rest of them are lunatics. It’s like a bad sitcom. Lunatics & Eames.”
Connie laughed. “You don’t have to tell me that. At least Logan doesn’t hate me any more.”
Ross looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”
“…I didn’t insult his cat, or his baby or his wife,” Connie said. “I think we’re good. At least for the moment.”
“You can never tell,” Ross shook his head. “Insane. It’s like they hit a certain height and the air gets thin.”
“Hah,” Connie smirked. “Just hope you don’t have to work with David Dresden any time in the near future.” She shuddered a little at the thought of the sardonic detective.
Ross rolled his eyes. “Dog Breath Dresden?”
Connie laughed. “Yeah. That’d be the one.”
“They tell me he shares the dog’s Milk-Bones,” Ross said.
“I dunno about that, but he and Logan hit it off,” Connie said.
“Oy, that I don’t need,” Ross shook his head. “Him, Logan and Munch-it’s like an alliance of the weird.”
“Haven’t met Munch just yet,” Connie said.
“If he turns sideways at night, you won’t,” Ross quipped.
“I try to steer clear of SVU,” the ADA commented, taking a drink.
“He’s a legend in this town and others.”
“So I hear.”
Danny took a long drink from the tall glass. “Sorry about your files,” he said, remembering their last encounter.
“My-oh, yeah, it’s okay.” Connie shrugged. “I wouldn’t be a newbie if I didn’t have all the shit hitting the fan at once. I’m getting used to it.”
“Our squad likes to dole it out,” Ross smirked.
“Apparently.” Connie smirked back. “But none of you are in my jurisdiction any more. You’re all Brian Peluso’s to deal with now. I’m back at Homicide and I like it there.”
“Fantastic,” Ross sighed. “Logan hates Peluso.”
Rubirosa raised a brow. “Really? From what I hear, they have some sort of weird bond involving copy machines and their asses.”
The captain’s eyes bugged. “That’s…disgusting.”
“Tell me about it,” Connie agreed. “Which is why I clean the copy machine every time I use it. There’s a good reason for being germ-conscious.”
“It’s too late,” Ross stared at his hands.
Connie couldn’t help but laugh.
“That is…ah…unclean.” Ross continued looking at his hands.
Connie nodded. “I mean, I like Brian just fine, but yeah…” She thought of the other ADA and all of his…exploits. “Ick.”
“That…” Ross shuddered.
“My thoughts exactly,” Connie said, draining her drink.
“Can I get you another drink?” The captain asked.
“Uh-sure,” Connie said, not thinking much of it, the alcohol having gradually loosened her senses.
Ross waved the waitress over and ordered.
“Long Island iced tea. Very…booze filled.” He glanced at Connie. “Do you like Long Island?”
“Me?” Connie asked.
“Yes…Miss Rubirosa.”
“Not a huge fan. Too many WASPs.” She smiled. “I’m from Queens.” To the waitress, she said, “I’ll have another rum and coke, easy on the rum.”
“Exactly,” Ross said, addressing the former comment. “There are far too many. But I’m not talking about the Haaaaamptons.”
Connie laughed.
“I mean Brighton Beach and such,” Ross explained.
“Never really been there,” Connie said. “We vacationed in Jersey.” She made a face at the memory.
“What part?” Ross asked.
“The crappy part. Wildwood. But my parents didn’t really know any better.”
He looked at her, almost annoyed. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. Till we became teenagers and all of our friends were going other cooler places.”
The look in his eyes reflected in his voice. “Then don’t be so hard on them.” He took a drink. “Vacation means ‘not home’.”
Connie looked down a little uncomfortably. “I didn’t say I didn’t appreciate it. My parents did a lot for my sisters and me. They immigrated here so that we could have a better life.”
“Seems to have worked,” Ross noted.
“It did,” Connie said.
“They’re lucky,” the captain said. “They can look and say, ‘We did good.’”
“I suppose so,” Connie played with another cocktail napkin.
“You don’t think so?” Ross looked at her, curious.
“I think they did the best with what they had.” Connie’s voice was flat, as if she’d explained this many times before. “I think that this country screwed them over…but that’s neither here nor there any more.”
“No? Well, in a few generations, you can look back and laugh,” Ross raised his glass. “L’chaim!”
“Right…” Connie raised her glass, slightly.
Ross took a drink and Connie followed suit.
“So…” Danny glanced over at Rubirosa again. “Why are you out alone?”
Connie thought about that. There were several reasons she could give, but none of them that she felt like getting into with a police captain she hardly knew. “I don’t know. I was bored, I guess,” she finally answered.
He looked slightly doubtful. “You’re far too young to be this bored.”
Connie laughed. “I lead a surprisingly dull life.”
“That’s tragic,” Ross deadpanned.
“I don’t mind it usually,” Connie said. It was true-she’d always been the studious one. She went out on occasion, with her sisters, friends, or a boyfriend if she had one at the moment. She could have a good time when she wanted. But she wasn’t the kind to constantly need to be out and about.
“No?” Ross asked.
She shrugged.
“That is a shame, if you don’t mind me saying,” Ross remarked.
Connie laughed a little, the alcohol helping in again, not thinking much of the comment.
Emboldened by his own alcohol intake, Ross continued. “You know…I know a few interesting places in the city.”
Again, Connie missed it. “There are a lot of interesting places in New York City.”
Ross leaned in, very slightly. “Would you like to go see some?”
“I-” Connie paused, suddenly very aware of the connotation of what Ross was getting at. “That’s…very nice of you…” Realizing it might be time to sober up, she asked the bartender for a glass of water.
“It’s no trouble,” Ross said. “Really.”
The bartender slid the water glass across the counter to Connie.
She took a big gulp from the glass. “…I’m actually seeing someone. But…thanks.”
Ross quickly tried to cover. “Ahhh, well…of course I didn’t mean it like that.”
It was obvious that he had.
“…right.” Connie downed more water. A moment later, she laughed a little nervously. “Sorry…I mean…sure, if you wanted to-if you meant it not like that, then-”
“No, no,” Ross shook his head. “My cousin-he’s a rabbi-has a little guide to little known places. That’s all…That’s…” He laughed a little. “You must have mistaken me for Logan.”
Connie laughed a little too hard. “I’m sorry…I really…am. Too many of these-” She motioned to the empty shot glass in front of her-“And I’m basically not all there…”
“Yes, yes. I’m sure these…” He waggled the Long Island iced tea. “…don’t do wonders for my articulation.”
Connie gave a small smile.
“But no,” Ross went on, “I’m quite sure you’re a little young for me…and it’s a bit of a conflict…”
“Well, I don’t work with Major Case under normal circumstances,” Connie said. “But I am too young for you.”
Ross smirked. “Like I said, I’m not Logan.”
“Thank God,” Connie said.
“Although…” He looked at his drink, wistfully. “The evil boss-tormenting bastard does seem happy on his way home, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” Connie said. “At least from what little I’ve seen.”
“Maybe there’s something to that after all,” Ross said, meaning getting married later in life, rather than at a young age.
“What do you mean?” Connie asked.
Ross shrugged.
“Anyway, he’s just like that to anyone who exerts authority over him-you shouldn’t take it personally,” Connie said.
“No? I meant…maybe I should have waited,” Ross said.
“Waited…to get married?”
“Maybe,” Ross said.
“I wouldn’t know.” Connie didn’t even want to think about marriage.
“Obviously, neither would I.” Ross’s voice was dry. “But maybe…”
Connie nodded, folding another swan, ignoring the look from the bartender, whose cocktail napkins she’d exhausted.
“I should go,” Ross said, blinking, as if waking from a reverie.
Rubirosa checked her watched. “As should I.”
Connie got up, paying her tab as she did so.
“Good night then, Miss Rubirosa.”
She smiled, before turning to go out the door. “Good night, Captain Ross.”
Danny nodded, finishing his drink as he watched her go.
Sitting and thinking again to himself, he murmured one syllable, which he still liked to blame for his current set of problems, even though he knew it was incorrect to do so. “…Todd.”
Fandom: Law & Order: SIU rpg (if you want to be technical, L&O/L&O:CI crossover for this particular piece)
Characters: Connie Rubirosa, Danny Ross, mentions of others.
Word Count: 2,035
Rating: G
Summary: After the rest of the gang clears out of the bar, an ADA and a high-ranking CO have an amusing and awkward conversation. While this was originally part of an rp log, you don't need to be acquainted with the SIU game to be able to follow this--there are a few things here or there that may seem odd, but for the most part, it explains itself. SIUers: This takes place Sunday night, at the bar, after basically everyone else has gone.
Author's Notes: Danny Ross dialogue is credited to neojess. All L&O canon characters are property of Dick Wolf.
The bar, which had just been loudly bustling with detectives and a few lawyers suddenly died down. Connie Rubirosa crossed her legs and realized that the only ones left at their end of the bar were herself and Captain Danny Ross.
“Long Island iced tea,” Ross requested of the bartender.
Connie, wondering if she should go or not, absently folded her cocktail napkin into an origami shape.
“What are you making?” Ross asked, looking over.
“Swan,” Connie said, holding up a lopsided swan that didn’t fold very well because of the thin napkin. She knew Ross only slightly, from working on the last case that Homicide had helped Major Case with.
Ross nodded. “One of the boys had to do a project on the Hiroshima cranes.”
“I remember that,” Connie smiled. “Back in…what grade are they in?”
“It was when my oldest was in…fourth or fifth grade.” Ross took a sip of his just-arrived Long Island iced tea.
“Sounds about right,” Connie said, checking her watch. Realizing she really had nothing better to do, she ordered another rum and coke.
“Yes,” Ross said, “And of course, Jeremy waited until the night before to fold his part of the class’s project.”
Connie chuckled as she finished another cocktail napkin swan. “So you spent all night doing it for him?”
“Yes, I did,” Ross said, remembering.
The young ADA smiled. “Sounds like you’re a good dad, then.”
Ross’s face was not amused. “When I’m around, as I’m so often reminded.”
“I’m sure you’re around more often than most,” Connie shrugged. She didn’t know much about the captain, other than what he’d just related to Wheeler before everyone had left, and what she’d seen at work, but he didn’t seem like the deadbeat dad type.
“Really?” Ross looked at her, questioningly.
“I could be wrong,” Connie said. “But you don’t strike me as the willful-child-neglector type.”
“It’s not willful.” Ross took another drink.
“I meant…” Connie thought a moment. “…that you seem like the type who spends as much time with his kids as he can.”
“Now I do,” Ross said, setting down his glass. “And you know…that really depends, I suppose.”
“What does?”
“How much time you can spend.”
Connie nodded, interested.
Ross went on. “I put a lot into my career. It’s my life, too.”
“It is,” Connie agreed.
“Your boss would understand,” Ross looked at her, “We were supposed to change the world.”
“I think anyone in a public servant’s job can understand that to a degree,” Connie said with a nod.
“And meanwhile, the world didn’t change for us,” Ross mused, the alcohol settling in to his system as he downed his drink.
“But you try to do what you can?” Connie asked.
“For who?” Ross’s brows raised a little. “The job? My career-is that for my boys?” He shook his head. “Or is it for me? Let’s not lie. It’s mine.”
Unprepared to respond to existential thinking this late at night, and with almost three rum and Cokes in her system, Connie nodded again and only said, “Sorry, I don’t have kids.”
“I want them to be proud of it, but they can’t be right now,” Ross shrugged. “It’s a heartbreak.”
Keenly feeling the awkwardness of being on the listening end of the older cop’s thoughts, Connie thought about how to change the subject.
“…so…uh…Detective Wheeler seems nice,” she said, of the redheaded detective she’d just met that night.
“Megan?” Danny came back from his thoughts.
“Yes,” Connie nodded.
“She is,” he said. “Which is good because the rest of them are lunatics. It’s like a bad sitcom. Lunatics & Eames.”
Connie laughed. “You don’t have to tell me that. At least Logan doesn’t hate me any more.”
Ross looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”
“…I didn’t insult his cat, or his baby or his wife,” Connie said. “I think we’re good. At least for the moment.”
“You can never tell,” Ross shook his head. “Insane. It’s like they hit a certain height and the air gets thin.”
“Hah,” Connie smirked. “Just hope you don’t have to work with David Dresden any time in the near future.” She shuddered a little at the thought of the sardonic detective.
Ross rolled his eyes. “Dog Breath Dresden?”
Connie laughed. “Yeah. That’d be the one.”
“They tell me he shares the dog’s Milk-Bones,” Ross said.
“I dunno about that, but he and Logan hit it off,” Connie said.
“Oy, that I don’t need,” Ross shook his head. “Him, Logan and Munch-it’s like an alliance of the weird.”
“Haven’t met Munch just yet,” Connie said.
“If he turns sideways at night, you won’t,” Ross quipped.
“I try to steer clear of SVU,” the ADA commented, taking a drink.
“He’s a legend in this town and others.”
“So I hear.”
Danny took a long drink from the tall glass. “Sorry about your files,” he said, remembering their last encounter.
“My-oh, yeah, it’s okay.” Connie shrugged. “I wouldn’t be a newbie if I didn’t have all the shit hitting the fan at once. I’m getting used to it.”
“Our squad likes to dole it out,” Ross smirked.
“Apparently.” Connie smirked back. “But none of you are in my jurisdiction any more. You’re all Brian Peluso’s to deal with now. I’m back at Homicide and I like it there.”
“Fantastic,” Ross sighed. “Logan hates Peluso.”
Rubirosa raised a brow. “Really? From what I hear, they have some sort of weird bond involving copy machines and their asses.”
The captain’s eyes bugged. “That’s…disgusting.”
“Tell me about it,” Connie agreed. “Which is why I clean the copy machine every time I use it. There’s a good reason for being germ-conscious.”
“It’s too late,” Ross stared at his hands.
Connie couldn’t help but laugh.
“That is…ah…unclean.” Ross continued looking at his hands.
Connie nodded. “I mean, I like Brian just fine, but yeah…” She thought of the other ADA and all of his…exploits. “Ick.”
“That…” Ross shuddered.
“My thoughts exactly,” Connie said, draining her drink.
“Can I get you another drink?” The captain asked.
“Uh-sure,” Connie said, not thinking much of it, the alcohol having gradually loosened her senses.
Ross waved the waitress over and ordered.
“Long Island iced tea. Very…booze filled.” He glanced at Connie. “Do you like Long Island?”
“Me?” Connie asked.
“Yes…Miss Rubirosa.”
“Not a huge fan. Too many WASPs.” She smiled. “I’m from Queens.” To the waitress, she said, “I’ll have another rum and coke, easy on the rum.”
“Exactly,” Ross said, addressing the former comment. “There are far too many. But I’m not talking about the Haaaaamptons.”
Connie laughed.
“I mean Brighton Beach and such,” Ross explained.
“Never really been there,” Connie said. “We vacationed in Jersey.” She made a face at the memory.
“What part?” Ross asked.
“The crappy part. Wildwood. But my parents didn’t really know any better.”
He looked at her, almost annoyed. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. Till we became teenagers and all of our friends were going other cooler places.”
The look in his eyes reflected in his voice. “Then don’t be so hard on them.” He took a drink. “Vacation means ‘not home’.”
Connie looked down a little uncomfortably. “I didn’t say I didn’t appreciate it. My parents did a lot for my sisters and me. They immigrated here so that we could have a better life.”
“Seems to have worked,” Ross noted.
“It did,” Connie said.
“They’re lucky,” the captain said. “They can look and say, ‘We did good.’”
“I suppose so,” Connie played with another cocktail napkin.
“You don’t think so?” Ross looked at her, curious.
“I think they did the best with what they had.” Connie’s voice was flat, as if she’d explained this many times before. “I think that this country screwed them over…but that’s neither here nor there any more.”
“No? Well, in a few generations, you can look back and laugh,” Ross raised his glass. “L’chaim!”
“Right…” Connie raised her glass, slightly.
Ross took a drink and Connie followed suit.
“So…” Danny glanced over at Rubirosa again. “Why are you out alone?”
Connie thought about that. There were several reasons she could give, but none of them that she felt like getting into with a police captain she hardly knew. “I don’t know. I was bored, I guess,” she finally answered.
He looked slightly doubtful. “You’re far too young to be this bored.”
Connie laughed. “I lead a surprisingly dull life.”
“That’s tragic,” Ross deadpanned.
“I don’t mind it usually,” Connie said. It was true-she’d always been the studious one. She went out on occasion, with her sisters, friends, or a boyfriend if she had one at the moment. She could have a good time when she wanted. But she wasn’t the kind to constantly need to be out and about.
“No?” Ross asked.
She shrugged.
“That is a shame, if you don’t mind me saying,” Ross remarked.
Connie laughed a little, the alcohol helping in again, not thinking much of the comment.
Emboldened by his own alcohol intake, Ross continued. “You know…I know a few interesting places in the city.”
Again, Connie missed it. “There are a lot of interesting places in New York City.”
Ross leaned in, very slightly. “Would you like to go see some?”
“I-” Connie paused, suddenly very aware of the connotation of what Ross was getting at. “That’s…very nice of you…” Realizing it might be time to sober up, she asked the bartender for a glass of water.
“It’s no trouble,” Ross said. “Really.”
The bartender slid the water glass across the counter to Connie.
She took a big gulp from the glass. “…I’m actually seeing someone. But…thanks.”
Ross quickly tried to cover. “Ahhh, well…of course I didn’t mean it like that.”
It was obvious that he had.
“…right.” Connie downed more water. A moment later, she laughed a little nervously. “Sorry…I mean…sure, if you wanted to-if you meant it not like that, then-”
“No, no,” Ross shook his head. “My cousin-he’s a rabbi-has a little guide to little known places. That’s all…That’s…” He laughed a little. “You must have mistaken me for Logan.”
Connie laughed a little too hard. “I’m sorry…I really…am. Too many of these-” She motioned to the empty shot glass in front of her-“And I’m basically not all there…”
“Yes, yes. I’m sure these…” He waggled the Long Island iced tea. “…don’t do wonders for my articulation.”
Connie gave a small smile.
“But no,” Ross went on, “I’m quite sure you’re a little young for me…and it’s a bit of a conflict…”
“Well, I don’t work with Major Case under normal circumstances,” Connie said. “But I am too young for you.”
Ross smirked. “Like I said, I’m not Logan.”
“Thank God,” Connie said.
“Although…” He looked at his drink, wistfully. “The evil boss-tormenting bastard does seem happy on his way home, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” Connie said. “At least from what little I’ve seen.”
“Maybe there’s something to that after all,” Ross said, meaning getting married later in life, rather than at a young age.
“What do you mean?” Connie asked.
Ross shrugged.
“Anyway, he’s just like that to anyone who exerts authority over him-you shouldn’t take it personally,” Connie said.
“No? I meant…maybe I should have waited,” Ross said.
“Waited…to get married?”
“Maybe,” Ross said.
“I wouldn’t know.” Connie didn’t even want to think about marriage.
“Obviously, neither would I.” Ross’s voice was dry. “But maybe…”
Connie nodded, folding another swan, ignoring the look from the bartender, whose cocktail napkins she’d exhausted.
“I should go,” Ross said, blinking, as if waking from a reverie.
Rubirosa checked her watched. “As should I.”
Connie got up, paying her tab as she did so.
“Good night then, Miss Rubirosa.”
She smiled, before turning to go out the door. “Good night, Captain Ross.”
Danny nodded, finishing his drink as he watched her go.
Sitting and thinking again to himself, he murmured one syllable, which he still liked to blame for his current set of problems, even though he knew it was incorrect to do so. “…Todd.”