FIC: Strangers, Extended Scenes (Eve Olawi and Leslie Roy)
More Spring Cleaning!
So, a while ago I wrote a short fic called Strangers, which consists of 10 drabbles and one double drabble, each representing a different view of Sam from a different minor character. In the original draft there were three double drabbles - the ones about Eve Olawi and Leslie Roy were originally 200 words. I cut them down in the end because they threw the thing off-balance. I felt like I could justify, dramatically, leaving the Frank Morgan one longer, because of its significance and placement, but I couldn't do the same for these two. I hated cutting them down at the time though, so since I'm doing this Spring Cleaning thing I thought that now would be a good time to post them in their original versions. They can both work as standalones, so it's not necessary to have read Strangers to understand them.
(Also posted to AO3 - see links below)
Eve Olawi
At first, Eve thinks he's just another bastard bigoted copper with a bug up his arse about seeing a colored bird on the rise. He's not like the others though: they have the balls to say it to her face. She could write the bloody dictionary on insults and lewd remarks. There's nothing she hasn't heard before. She's used to it, used to being regarded as Tony Crane's bit of brown sugar on the side. They both know she's more than that.
This one's different, though, with his mind games and planted evidence. He gives her this look of doe-eyed concern and tells her to leave the man she loves. Condescending prick.
Later, as she's pleading with doctors who won't give her the time of day and lawyers asking questions she doesn't know how to answer, she realizes that Tyler's concern is as real and as dangerous as his insanity. That makes it worse, because he's made himself her hero in his deluded fantasy, whoever he thinks she is, and he's made her Tony the villain. He's won, because coppers close ranks, even around their madmen. In his mind he's saved her life; in reality he's left it in shambles.
*
Leslie Roy
They share a common experience. A dirty little secret. Except that he doesn't treat it as dirty; he speaks of his past love affair wistfully, lovingly, loftily and longingly. His words betray no shame, no embarrassment. His only regrets are about its ending. Leslie likes him, likes having someone she can speak to honestly about Deepak, someone who regards Deepak as a person deserving of her love.
Then Deepak is dead and she is pregnant, and what option does she have, really? Sam's concern startles her, and his arrogance chills her. What is he searching for in her? It infuriates her and also makes her wonder if perhaps there's more to that common experience than she'd thought. Something lost. Something missing.
Or perhaps he just sees something he never had at all.
It's desperate and it's creepy, and it scares her and makes her pity him. That makes her angry, that she pities him when he's trying to make this more difficult for her; it's not as if this is an easy choice to make. But it's her choice, damn it, not his.
When she does decide to keep it, she convinces herself that it's nothing to do with him.
So, a while ago I wrote a short fic called Strangers, which consists of 10 drabbles and one double drabble, each representing a different view of Sam from a different minor character. In the original draft there were three double drabbles - the ones about Eve Olawi and Leslie Roy were originally 200 words. I cut them down in the end because they threw the thing off-balance. I felt like I could justify, dramatically, leaving the Frank Morgan one longer, because of its significance and placement, but I couldn't do the same for these two. I hated cutting them down at the time though, so since I'm doing this Spring Cleaning thing I thought that now would be a good time to post them in their original versions. They can both work as standalones, so it's not necessary to have read Strangers to understand them.
(Also posted to AO3 - see links below)
Eve Olawi
At first, Eve thinks he's just another bastard bigoted copper with a bug up his arse about seeing a colored bird on the rise. He's not like the others though: they have the balls to say it to her face. She could write the bloody dictionary on insults and lewd remarks. There's nothing she hasn't heard before. She's used to it, used to being regarded as Tony Crane's bit of brown sugar on the side. They both know she's more than that.
This one's different, though, with his mind games and planted evidence. He gives her this look of doe-eyed concern and tells her to leave the man she loves. Condescending prick.
Later, as she's pleading with doctors who won't give her the time of day and lawyers asking questions she doesn't know how to answer, she realizes that Tyler's concern is as real and as dangerous as his insanity. That makes it worse, because he's made himself her hero in his deluded fantasy, whoever he thinks she is, and he's made her Tony the villain. He's won, because coppers close ranks, even around their madmen. In his mind he's saved her life; in reality he's left it in shambles.
*
Leslie Roy
They share a common experience. A dirty little secret. Except that he doesn't treat it as dirty; he speaks of his past love affair wistfully, lovingly, loftily and longingly. His words betray no shame, no embarrassment. His only regrets are about its ending. Leslie likes him, likes having someone she can speak to honestly about Deepak, someone who regards Deepak as a person deserving of her love.
Then Deepak is dead and she is pregnant, and what option does she have, really? Sam's concern startles her, and his arrogance chills her. What is he searching for in her? It infuriates her and also makes her wonder if perhaps there's more to that common experience than she'd thought. Something lost. Something missing.
Or perhaps he just sees something he never had at all.
It's desperate and it's creepy, and it scares her and makes her pity him. That makes her angry, that she pities him when he's trying to make this more difficult for her; it's not as if this is an easy choice to make. But it's her choice, damn it, not his.
When she does decide to keep it, she convinces herself that it's nothing to do with him.