dS snippet: "From the Office of AD Kirti Singh"
Fandoms; Characters: due South/H2O; Fraser and an OC
Rating: G
Word Count: 300
Challenge: Written for the ds_snippets Challenge#89, prompt: Cole Porter's lyrics, I get no kick from champagne - mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all.
Author's Notes: Readers may recognize Kirti from A Woman of Ambition, but the snippet can stand alone. Thanks to my beta, nos4a2no9, for helping me get those opening lines right.
Kirti shut down her computer. She was wearily shrugging into her coat when the intercom beeped.
“My apologies, ma’am,” her secretary said. “That RCMP fellow who bullied his way through security is still out here. He’s been waiting for seven hours.”
Kirti pressed the button. “Send him in, Eleanor.”
The man who appeared in her doorway wore the Red Serge with the Order of Merit pinned to his chest. His features were attractive and vaguely familiar. Kirti mentally erased a few creases from around the eyes. “Ah. Meg’s pretty boy. Do come in, Corporal Fraser.” She sat down behind her desk. “How can the Intelligence Service be of service tonight? Tea? A nice brandy, perhaps?”
“No, ma’am,” he answered, shutting the door and standing at parade rest. “I need your assistance on an urgent matter.”
Kirti flipped the switch under her desk that would record the conversation. “Of course you do,” she said drily. “And if I refuse, you’ll disclose certain details about my relationship with Meg where it’ll do the most harm?”
“Of course not,” the Corporal said, looking like she’d accused him of fucking sheep in his spare time.
“Then why, exactly, should I feel moved to act in this matter? I assume it’s nothing to do with my brief.”
“No, Assistant Director. But it’s the right thing to do.”
She rather wished he’d been a simple extortionist. They were easily dealt with. Idealists were a murkier kettle of fish.
His voice was quiet, eyes solemn. “Inspector Thatcher’s out of the country, and I didn’t know who else to trust.”
The promise of espionage thrilled through her veins, better than the finest champagne. She leaned slightly forwards. “I'm listening, Corporal.”
He reported out, “The first evidence of a government conspiracy in the water pipeline came to my attention … ”
Rating: G
Word Count: 300
Challenge: Written for the ds_snippets Challenge#89, prompt: Cole Porter's lyrics, I get no kick from champagne - mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all.
Author's Notes: Readers may recognize Kirti from A Woman of Ambition, but the snippet can stand alone. Thanks to my beta, nos4a2no9, for helping me get those opening lines right.
Kirti shut down her computer. She was wearily shrugging into her coat when the intercom beeped.
“My apologies, ma’am,” her secretary said. “That RCMP fellow who bullied his way through security is still out here. He’s been waiting for seven hours.”
Kirti pressed the button. “Send him in, Eleanor.”
The man who appeared in her doorway wore the Red Serge with the Order of Merit pinned to his chest. His features were attractive and vaguely familiar. Kirti mentally erased a few creases from around the eyes. “Ah. Meg’s pretty boy. Do come in, Corporal Fraser.” She sat down behind her desk. “How can the Intelligence Service be of service tonight? Tea? A nice brandy, perhaps?”
“No, ma’am,” he answered, shutting the door and standing at parade rest. “I need your assistance on an urgent matter.”
Kirti flipped the switch under her desk that would record the conversation. “Of course you do,” she said drily. “And if I refuse, you’ll disclose certain details about my relationship with Meg where it’ll do the most harm?”
“Of course not,” the Corporal said, looking like she’d accused him of fucking sheep in his spare time.
“Then why, exactly, should I feel moved to act in this matter? I assume it’s nothing to do with my brief.”
“No, Assistant Director. But it’s the right thing to do.”
She rather wished he’d been a simple extortionist. They were easily dealt with. Idealists were a murkier kettle of fish.
His voice was quiet, eyes solemn. “Inspector Thatcher’s out of the country, and I didn’t know who else to trust.”
The promise of espionage thrilled through her veins, better than the finest champagne. She leaned slightly forwards. “I'm listening, Corporal.”
He reported out, “The first evidence of a government conspiracy in the water pipeline came to my attention … ”