Shifting Colours, Part 3
Title: Shifting Colours, part 3
Author: celticlonging
Fandom: Fifty Shades trilogy
Rating: PG, because it talks about Christian Grey
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1981
Inspiration: gehayi and ketmakura’s sporking of Fifty Shades Darker
Summary: Carrick faces some unpleasant truths.
Author’s Note: I don’t own anything from Fifty Shades. Everything else is my own invention. AU. There’s rather a large infodump in this chapter.
The Mendoza house: Saratoga Springs, Utah
Michael and Toby were sprawled lazily on the sofa when they heard the front door open and close. “Hey, Dad,” Michael called without looking up from his book.
Robert walked into the living room after washing his oil-stained hands. “Hi.” He sat down on one of the chairs, sighing loudly.
Toby looked at his father. “Rough day?”
“Busy day. I got a call from Vera saying they’ve had to reschedule my assessment. It’s next Monday instead of this Thursday.”
“Why don’t they have an Agency building here in Utah?” Toby asked. “Doesn’t seem fair you have to go all the way to San Francisco for your assessment. I mean, this’ll be the second time you’ve stayed in a hotel for two weeks.”
“The reason there are few Agency buildings here in American is something to do with funds - or lack of them. Remember, half the people in the Agency are volunteers like me.”
“Yeah, that’s true. Do you know if they have any jobs for you?”
“Not yet. If they did, they’d tell me.”
“If I didn’t have assignments, I’d ask if I could come with you to San Francisco,” Michael said with a grin.
“If you didn’t have assignments, I’d take you with me.”
“What about me and Kevin?” Toby asked, pretending to sound hurt.
Robert laughed and got to his feet. “The fridge is pretty empty, so shall we get takeout tonight?”
“That sounds great,” Toby replied, stretching.
“Shall we try something different this time?”
“My friend Jake had a Mexican takeout last week,” said Michael. “He said it was really good.”
Robert smiled. “Mexican it is!”
xxx
The Agency building: San Francisco
The waiting room had pale green walls, and was filled with comfortable red chairs. Robert sat with his hands in his lap. There were only four other people there: an Asian woman in her thirties, a blond man who kept glancing at his watch and a teenager accompanied by her mother. The girl was very nervous; she was probably getting Registered. Robert wondered what kind of Gift she had.
The door opened. “Mr Mendoza?”
Robert looked up to see a tall redhead in smart black trousers and a lilac shirt. She smiled and nodded; he got to his feet and followed her out of the waiting room.
“I’m sorry about the reshuffle,” she said once they were in her office. “How have you been?”
“I’m doing OK, thanks, Vera. How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” replied Vera Duquesne. “I’m sorry but we need to do this quickly; I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. Shall we get started? OK, have you noticed any changes at all in your Gift?”
Robert answered all the routine questions, and signed the appropriate form. The whole process took less than ten minutes.
“Shall we say the tenth next month?” Vera asked.
“That sounds fine to me. I’ll see you then, Vera.” Robert smiled and left the office - only to nearly bump into someone walking in the opposite direction.
“Robert! What are you doing here?” It was Carrick Grey.
“They had to move my assessment. How are you?”
Carrick’s colours were a mixture of peach and dusky orange. They would have been very pretty colours had Robert not known they meant confusion and anxiety. Carrick opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut him off.
“Mr Grey? Please could you follow me?” The ‘please’ sounded like a polite command. It was Leon Blake, one of the senior members of the Agency. Although he wasn’t Gifted himself, Blake was well respected and held a high position of authority.
“If it’s all right, I’d like Robert to hear this as well. He’s the reason I sent the DNA in the first place.”
Blake raised a grey eyebrow at Robert. “I don’t have any objections.”
“Let me explain, Robert. I sent a sample of Christian’s DNA to the Agency and asked if they could check for any Gift bloodlines. Yesterday, I received a call asking me to come in and discuss the results. I would be very thankful if you could hear them as well.”
Sensing Carrick wanted support more than anything else, Robert said: “Course I will.”
They followed Blake into a square room with five chairs arranged in a loose circle and a spare chair tucked into one of the corners. The room was unfurnished apart from a picture of a lake on the wall and a small air-con unit. Three people were already seated in the centre of the room; they all looked up as the door opened. One of them, a man with light brown hair and wearing a white shirt and jeans, saw Robert and immediately his colours flooded with both surprise (a paler shade of peach than Carrick’s confusion) and delight (a very light mint green).
“Bob!” He got up, walked over to Robert and hugged him enthusiastically. “Hey, how are you?”
“Hello, Gabe! I didn’t know you were in America. I’m fine, thanks.” Robert returned the hug.
“And the boys?”
“They’re OK. Carrick, this is Gabriel Lucado; he’s one of the best Mimics currently living. Gabe, meet Carrick Grey.”
Gabe shook hands with Carrick. “Nice to meet you.”
“Allow me to introduce Helen Hathaway and Mark Nicolson,” Blake said. “They’re experts on Gift types and bloodlines. Robert, I believe you know them already.”
Robert nodded and smiled at the others. Helen, a blonde with her hair in a French twist, winked ‘hello’ at him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr Grey,” Mark said in a deep and husky voice, standing up and extending a hand. He was a tall black Texan in his late fifties, with bright eyes and an infectious smile.
Blake walked over to the corner of the room, retrieved the extra chair and placed it in the circle. “Can everyone sit down, please?” Once all the chairs had been filled, he cleared his throat and said: “As you’re all aware, we’re here to discuss the results of the DNA sent in by Mr Grey here.”
“Is Christian part of a Gifted bloodline?” Carrick asked before Blake could continue.
“Technically, yes. We think his biological father was an Accidental.”
“This is where things get interesting,” Mark said, leaning back in his chair. “Christian Grey’s biological father was a man named Dennis Swan*. Does the name ring a bell for anyone?”
“Who is he?” Helen asked. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Swan was a Class A Compeller. Compellers are telepaths that can influence people; in Swan’s case, he made people do whatever he wanted.” Mark folded his arms. “Emphasis on whatever.”
“Carrick, please could you tell us a little about Christian?” Blake rested his hands on his knees.
“What would you like to know?”
“Well, we’re looking for things that might help us identify certain behaviour or personality traits that are similar to Swan or other Compellers.”
Carrick began by talking about Christian’s birth mother and her suicide. He seemed to get more confident when he got to Christian’s early years with the Grey family.
“Did you try and get him therapy?” Helen asked suddenly.
“My wife suggested it to me as soon as we adopted him. She’s a doctor, and she knows a few professional therapists. We were going to call one of them when…” Carrick paused, frowning. Robert saw his colours slowly turn back to pale peach. “I don’t know why we didn’t go through with it. We knew therapy was what he needed, and talked to him about it.”
Blake’s colours suddenly turned light green, indicating interest.
“When he first arrived, he didn’t get on with Elliot. It was only when Mia arrived that he began to become more…open. When he got older, it was obvious he was bright and talented. He still had problems, though. In his early teens, he would often get into fights and he was expelled from two schools and Harvard. He hurt his opponents quite badly, actually.”
“And he wasn’t charged for that?” asked Gabe.
“No, he…he wasn’t.” Carrick stared at the floor for a few moments. “I’m sorry, I…I’m seeing a lot of things I didn’t before. When Elliot was thirteen, he pushed a boy so hard he fell over. Mia used to pull other girls’ hair when she was eight. We didn’t let them get away with it. Why would we have let Christian get away with worse? We were supposed to be his parents.” His colours slowly deepened to a dark purple.
Robert guessed he was disgusted with himself more than he was with his son.
“It’s not your fault,” Mark said. “I’m not saying that to be patronising; it really isn’t your fault. The longer you’re exposed to a Compeller’s powers, the harder it is to resist them.”
“That’s if he is a Compeller,” Carrick burst out, “but what if he isn’t?” He looked dangerously close to tears and his colours swung violently to a horrible combination of dark blue and yellow.
“For now, let’s assume that he is and work with that,” Blake said soothingly.
Carrick took deep breaths and slowly settled down. “I’m sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize, Carrick. How did he start his business? Did he come to you for money to start it?”
“No; a friend of Grace’s gave him a hundred thousand dollars to start his business.”
Gabe whistled. “Wow.”
Robert frowned. He’s been kicked out of Harvard, he wants to start his own business - and he doesn’t go to his rich parents for help?
“What was the name of Grace’s friend?” enquired Blake.
“Elena Lincoln.”
“OK, can you tell us about any romantic relationships your son has had? This information might not seem relevant, but it is.”
“He hasn’t had any long-term partners. He’s had a few short relationships, but they never lasted longer than a few months and he never introduced any of them to us.”
“You’ve met his current girlfriend,” Robert interjected. “Ana, isn’t that her name?”
“Yes. Robert, I meant it when I said Ana’s been good for him. I think he’s serious about her.”
“Mark, you said something about resisting a Compeller?” asked Helen.
“That depends on a few things. First, there’s the strength of the Compeller; then there’s how long you’ve been exposed to them. Some people are naturally immune to a Compeller and others have to work hard at it.”
Robert thought back to the charity ball, and meeting Jason Taylor. If the rumours were true (and he didn’t doubt they were for a second), Grey had to blackmail Jason into working for him. That meant Jason was naturally immune or very strong-willed.
“The trouble with Compellers is once they become used to getting what they want, they expect nothing else.”
“Christian has never failed to get what he wants,” Carrick said quietly.
“Yes, but we still don’t know if he is Gifted,” Helen pointed out. “Just because the father had the power doesn’t mean the son does.”
You’re right about that, thought Robert, biting back a smile.
“And even if he is a Compeller, is he misusing his Gift? Can you misuse a Gift you don’t even know you have? I mean, it sounds as though he would have been four when he gained his powers. Gifts normally appear when the person is sixteen.”
“A girl called Emma Blakeney came into her power when she was eight,” Robert said quietly.
“Either way,” Blake announced, “this requires careful investigation. First we determine if your son is Gifted, Mr Grey. Then we take it from there. Does anybody have any ideas as to how we do that?”
xxx
Kevin was pouring himself a Red Bull when his mobile rang. He put the can down on the table and answered his phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Kevin,” said his father. “What do you say to a few days in Washington?”
To be continued…
*Yes, that spelling was deliberate.
Author: celticlonging
Fandom: Fifty Shades trilogy
Rating: PG, because it talks about Christian Grey
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1981
Inspiration: gehayi and ketmakura’s sporking of Fifty Shades Darker
Summary: Carrick faces some unpleasant truths.
Author’s Note: I don’t own anything from Fifty Shades. Everything else is my own invention. AU. There’s rather a large infodump in this chapter.
The Mendoza house: Saratoga Springs, Utah
Michael and Toby were sprawled lazily on the sofa when they heard the front door open and close. “Hey, Dad,” Michael called without looking up from his book.
Robert walked into the living room after washing his oil-stained hands. “Hi.” He sat down on one of the chairs, sighing loudly.
Toby looked at his father. “Rough day?”
“Busy day. I got a call from Vera saying they’ve had to reschedule my assessment. It’s next Monday instead of this Thursday.”
“Why don’t they have an Agency building here in Utah?” Toby asked. “Doesn’t seem fair you have to go all the way to San Francisco for your assessment. I mean, this’ll be the second time you’ve stayed in a hotel for two weeks.”
“The reason there are few Agency buildings here in American is something to do with funds - or lack of them. Remember, half the people in the Agency are volunteers like me.”
“Yeah, that’s true. Do you know if they have any jobs for you?”
“Not yet. If they did, they’d tell me.”
“If I didn’t have assignments, I’d ask if I could come with you to San Francisco,” Michael said with a grin.
“If you didn’t have assignments, I’d take you with me.”
“What about me and Kevin?” Toby asked, pretending to sound hurt.
Robert laughed and got to his feet. “The fridge is pretty empty, so shall we get takeout tonight?”
“That sounds great,” Toby replied, stretching.
“Shall we try something different this time?”
“My friend Jake had a Mexican takeout last week,” said Michael. “He said it was really good.”
Robert smiled. “Mexican it is!”
xxx
The Agency building: San Francisco
The waiting room had pale green walls, and was filled with comfortable red chairs. Robert sat with his hands in his lap. There were only four other people there: an Asian woman in her thirties, a blond man who kept glancing at his watch and a teenager accompanied by her mother. The girl was very nervous; she was probably getting Registered. Robert wondered what kind of Gift she had.
The door opened. “Mr Mendoza?”
Robert looked up to see a tall redhead in smart black trousers and a lilac shirt. She smiled and nodded; he got to his feet and followed her out of the waiting room.
“I’m sorry about the reshuffle,” she said once they were in her office. “How have you been?”
“I’m doing OK, thanks, Vera. How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” replied Vera Duquesne. “I’m sorry but we need to do this quickly; I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. Shall we get started? OK, have you noticed any changes at all in your Gift?”
Robert answered all the routine questions, and signed the appropriate form. The whole process took less than ten minutes.
“Shall we say the tenth next month?” Vera asked.
“That sounds fine to me. I’ll see you then, Vera.” Robert smiled and left the office - only to nearly bump into someone walking in the opposite direction.
“Robert! What are you doing here?” It was Carrick Grey.
“They had to move my assessment. How are you?”
Carrick’s colours were a mixture of peach and dusky orange. They would have been very pretty colours had Robert not known they meant confusion and anxiety. Carrick opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut him off.
“Mr Grey? Please could you follow me?” The ‘please’ sounded like a polite command. It was Leon Blake, one of the senior members of the Agency. Although he wasn’t Gifted himself, Blake was well respected and held a high position of authority.
“If it’s all right, I’d like Robert to hear this as well. He’s the reason I sent the DNA in the first place.”
Blake raised a grey eyebrow at Robert. “I don’t have any objections.”
“Let me explain, Robert. I sent a sample of Christian’s DNA to the Agency and asked if they could check for any Gift bloodlines. Yesterday, I received a call asking me to come in and discuss the results. I would be very thankful if you could hear them as well.”
Sensing Carrick wanted support more than anything else, Robert said: “Course I will.”
They followed Blake into a square room with five chairs arranged in a loose circle and a spare chair tucked into one of the corners. The room was unfurnished apart from a picture of a lake on the wall and a small air-con unit. Three people were already seated in the centre of the room; they all looked up as the door opened. One of them, a man with light brown hair and wearing a white shirt and jeans, saw Robert and immediately his colours flooded with both surprise (a paler shade of peach than Carrick’s confusion) and delight (a very light mint green).
“Bob!” He got up, walked over to Robert and hugged him enthusiastically. “Hey, how are you?”
“Hello, Gabe! I didn’t know you were in America. I’m fine, thanks.” Robert returned the hug.
“And the boys?”
“They’re OK. Carrick, this is Gabriel Lucado; he’s one of the best Mimics currently living. Gabe, meet Carrick Grey.”
Gabe shook hands with Carrick. “Nice to meet you.”
“Allow me to introduce Helen Hathaway and Mark Nicolson,” Blake said. “They’re experts on Gift types and bloodlines. Robert, I believe you know them already.”
Robert nodded and smiled at the others. Helen, a blonde with her hair in a French twist, winked ‘hello’ at him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr Grey,” Mark said in a deep and husky voice, standing up and extending a hand. He was a tall black Texan in his late fifties, with bright eyes and an infectious smile.
Blake walked over to the corner of the room, retrieved the extra chair and placed it in the circle. “Can everyone sit down, please?” Once all the chairs had been filled, he cleared his throat and said: “As you’re all aware, we’re here to discuss the results of the DNA sent in by Mr Grey here.”
“Is Christian part of a Gifted bloodline?” Carrick asked before Blake could continue.
“Technically, yes. We think his biological father was an Accidental.”
“This is where things get interesting,” Mark said, leaning back in his chair. “Christian Grey’s biological father was a man named Dennis Swan*. Does the name ring a bell for anyone?”
“Who is he?” Helen asked. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Swan was a Class A Compeller. Compellers are telepaths that can influence people; in Swan’s case, he made people do whatever he wanted.” Mark folded his arms. “Emphasis on whatever.”
“Carrick, please could you tell us a little about Christian?” Blake rested his hands on his knees.
“What would you like to know?”
“Well, we’re looking for things that might help us identify certain behaviour or personality traits that are similar to Swan or other Compellers.”
Carrick began by talking about Christian’s birth mother and her suicide. He seemed to get more confident when he got to Christian’s early years with the Grey family.
“Did you try and get him therapy?” Helen asked suddenly.
“My wife suggested it to me as soon as we adopted him. She’s a doctor, and she knows a few professional therapists. We were going to call one of them when…” Carrick paused, frowning. Robert saw his colours slowly turn back to pale peach. “I don’t know why we didn’t go through with it. We knew therapy was what he needed, and talked to him about it.”
Blake’s colours suddenly turned light green, indicating interest.
“When he first arrived, he didn’t get on with Elliot. It was only when Mia arrived that he began to become more…open. When he got older, it was obvious he was bright and talented. He still had problems, though. In his early teens, he would often get into fights and he was expelled from two schools and Harvard. He hurt his opponents quite badly, actually.”
“And he wasn’t charged for that?” asked Gabe.
“No, he…he wasn’t.” Carrick stared at the floor for a few moments. “I’m sorry, I…I’m seeing a lot of things I didn’t before. When Elliot was thirteen, he pushed a boy so hard he fell over. Mia used to pull other girls’ hair when she was eight. We didn’t let them get away with it. Why would we have let Christian get away with worse? We were supposed to be his parents.” His colours slowly deepened to a dark purple.
Robert guessed he was disgusted with himself more than he was with his son.
“It’s not your fault,” Mark said. “I’m not saying that to be patronising; it really isn’t your fault. The longer you’re exposed to a Compeller’s powers, the harder it is to resist them.”
“That’s if he is a Compeller,” Carrick burst out, “but what if he isn’t?” He looked dangerously close to tears and his colours swung violently to a horrible combination of dark blue and yellow.
“For now, let’s assume that he is and work with that,” Blake said soothingly.
Carrick took deep breaths and slowly settled down. “I’m sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize, Carrick. How did he start his business? Did he come to you for money to start it?”
“No; a friend of Grace’s gave him a hundred thousand dollars to start his business.”
Gabe whistled. “Wow.”
Robert frowned. He’s been kicked out of Harvard, he wants to start his own business - and he doesn’t go to his rich parents for help?
“What was the name of Grace’s friend?” enquired Blake.
“Elena Lincoln.”
“OK, can you tell us about any romantic relationships your son has had? This information might not seem relevant, but it is.”
“He hasn’t had any long-term partners. He’s had a few short relationships, but they never lasted longer than a few months and he never introduced any of them to us.”
“You’ve met his current girlfriend,” Robert interjected. “Ana, isn’t that her name?”
“Yes. Robert, I meant it when I said Ana’s been good for him. I think he’s serious about her.”
“Mark, you said something about resisting a Compeller?” asked Helen.
“That depends on a few things. First, there’s the strength of the Compeller; then there’s how long you’ve been exposed to them. Some people are naturally immune to a Compeller and others have to work hard at it.”
Robert thought back to the charity ball, and meeting Jason Taylor. If the rumours were true (and he didn’t doubt they were for a second), Grey had to blackmail Jason into working for him. That meant Jason was naturally immune or very strong-willed.
“The trouble with Compellers is once they become used to getting what they want, they expect nothing else.”
“Christian has never failed to get what he wants,” Carrick said quietly.
“Yes, but we still don’t know if he is Gifted,” Helen pointed out. “Just because the father had the power doesn’t mean the son does.”
You’re right about that, thought Robert, biting back a smile.
“And even if he is a Compeller, is he misusing his Gift? Can you misuse a Gift you don’t even know you have? I mean, it sounds as though he would have been four when he gained his powers. Gifts normally appear when the person is sixteen.”
“A girl called Emma Blakeney came into her power when she was eight,” Robert said quietly.
“Either way,” Blake announced, “this requires careful investigation. First we determine if your son is Gifted, Mr Grey. Then we take it from there. Does anybody have any ideas as to how we do that?”
xxx
Kevin was pouring himself a Red Bull when his mobile rang. He put the can down on the table and answered his phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Kevin,” said his father. “What do you say to a few days in Washington?”
To be continued…
*Yes, that spelling was deliberate.