Numb3rs fic: Over Again (Nadine, R)
Written for Team Angst at numb3rswriteoff. My prompt was Easy.
Title: Over Again
Author: sororcula
Characters: Nadine Hodges, OFCs
Rating/Category: R/Gen
Word Count: 570
Spoilers: 2x01, 2x04, 2x08 (but only for Nadine's existence)
Summary: She has sort of a ritual the day a big trial starts.
Notes/Warnings: Unbetaed, but many thanks to elysium1996 for her help with this fic.
Disclaimer: Any characters you recognize are not mine and I do not profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
This fic was written for the Angst vs Schmoop Challenge at numb3rswriteoff. After you’ve read the fic, please rate it by voting in the poll located here. (Your vote will be anonymous.) Rate the fic on a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being the best) using the following criteria: how well the fic fit the prompt ("Easy"), how angsty the fic was, and how well you enjoyed the fic. When you’re done, please check out the other challenge fic at numb3rswriteoff. Thank you!
She has sort of a ritual the day a big trial starts.
Her morning run is accompanied by a special playlist of Journey and Bon Jovi, getting her pumped up first thing, and she always makes sure to eat a real breakfast before leaving the house, not wanting a repeat of the unfortunate fainting spell she'd experienced senior year in front of an entire class.
On her way to work she switches to a mix of Fiona Apple and the Indigo Girls, mellow chick rock to help her calm down. She makes her way into the office, smiling at the secretary and greeting her colleagues cheerfully, and makes sure she has everything she needs for the courtroom.
And then, inevitably, 40 minutes before she's due in court, she makes her way into the most secluded bathroom in the building and she throws up.
It's her least favorite thing about her job.
After, she brushes her teeth, gargles from her travel mouthwash, and carefully reapplies her lipstick, taking deep breaths and trying not to pass out from the nerves.
Usually, after a few minutes she's able to head back out, grab a Diet Coke from the vending machine, and go do her job.
But--
She makes it back into the corner stall just as the bathroom door opens. Two sets of clicking high heels enter the room. She holds her breath, feeling the thick gloss of her fresh lipstick slicking her lips against each other where she's clamped them shut.
"So the prosecutor on my case today is Hodges, can you believe it?" one of them says. The other woman laughs.
"That should make your job easier, then."
In the stall she feels her face flush hotly.
"I just don't know how that little Elle Woods-wannabe keeps getting assigned such major cases," the first one continues.
"Oh," the other woman says meaningfully, "I know. Haven't you met her boss? 'Lecherous' is an understatement. I'm sure he's got her doing all kinds of favors for him."
Her eyes widen, shocked. This is outrageous. She should go out there and... She should... Her stomach turns tightly. She can feel her face going desperate, unsure.
"It's just sad she has so little respect for herself," one of them says with faux concern. "I mean, obviously I'm not going to judge, but if she's going to be easy at least she should have stuck to cheerleading so she could be fucking football players instead of some creep like Barry."
Mr. Barry is married with two kids, and he's one of the nicest men she's ever met. He recognizes how hard she works and has faith in her.
And she was never a cheerleader.
"Well," the defense attorney laughs, "At least if the trial gets boring I can entertain myself by watching her fumble everything."
She can feel tears prickling up at her eyes, and they'll ruin her foundation so she tips her head back, holding her eyes wide open, staring desperately at the ceiling. Waiting.
The sink runs, then turns off.
"That eyeliner looks great on you."
The door shuts behind them, and the room is silent. She checks her watch, trying to focus on thoughts of a beach hammock, or... or just her dinner tonight, after the day is over, maybe the big bottle of vodka waiting in her kitchen cupboard.
And then she leaves the room and goes and gets her soda.
Title: Over Again
Author: sororcula
Characters: Nadine Hodges, OFCs
Rating/Category: R/Gen
Word Count: 570
Spoilers: 2x01, 2x04, 2x08 (but only for Nadine's existence)
Summary: She has sort of a ritual the day a big trial starts.
Notes/Warnings: Unbetaed, but many thanks to elysium1996 for her help with this fic.
Disclaimer: Any characters you recognize are not mine and I do not profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
This fic was written for the Angst vs Schmoop Challenge at numb3rswriteoff. After you’ve read the fic, please rate it by voting in the poll located here. (Your vote will be anonymous.) Rate the fic on a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being the best) using the following criteria: how well the fic fit the prompt ("Easy"), how angsty the fic was, and how well you enjoyed the fic. When you’re done, please check out the other challenge fic at numb3rswriteoff. Thank you!
She has sort of a ritual the day a big trial starts.
Her morning run is accompanied by a special playlist of Journey and Bon Jovi, getting her pumped up first thing, and she always makes sure to eat a real breakfast before leaving the house, not wanting a repeat of the unfortunate fainting spell she'd experienced senior year in front of an entire class.
On her way to work she switches to a mix of Fiona Apple and the Indigo Girls, mellow chick rock to help her calm down. She makes her way into the office, smiling at the secretary and greeting her colleagues cheerfully, and makes sure she has everything she needs for the courtroom.
And then, inevitably, 40 minutes before she's due in court, she makes her way into the most secluded bathroom in the building and she throws up.
It's her least favorite thing about her job.
After, she brushes her teeth, gargles from her travel mouthwash, and carefully reapplies her lipstick, taking deep breaths and trying not to pass out from the nerves.
Usually, after a few minutes she's able to head back out, grab a Diet Coke from the vending machine, and go do her job.
But--
She makes it back into the corner stall just as the bathroom door opens. Two sets of clicking high heels enter the room. She holds her breath, feeling the thick gloss of her fresh lipstick slicking her lips against each other where she's clamped them shut.
"So the prosecutor on my case today is Hodges, can you believe it?" one of them says. The other woman laughs.
"That should make your job easier, then."
In the stall she feels her face flush hotly.
"I just don't know how that little Elle Woods-wannabe keeps getting assigned such major cases," the first one continues.
"Oh," the other woman says meaningfully, "I know. Haven't you met her boss? 'Lecherous' is an understatement. I'm sure he's got her doing all kinds of favors for him."
Her eyes widen, shocked. This is outrageous. She should go out there and... She should... Her stomach turns tightly. She can feel her face going desperate, unsure.
"It's just sad she has so little respect for herself," one of them says with faux concern. "I mean, obviously I'm not going to judge, but if she's going to be easy at least she should have stuck to cheerleading so she could be fucking football players instead of some creep like Barry."
Mr. Barry is married with two kids, and he's one of the nicest men she's ever met. He recognizes how hard she works and has faith in her.
And she was never a cheerleader.
"Well," the defense attorney laughs, "At least if the trial gets boring I can entertain myself by watching her fumble everything."
She can feel tears prickling up at her eyes, and they'll ruin her foundation so she tips her head back, holding her eyes wide open, staring desperately at the ceiling. Waiting.
The sink runs, then turns off.
"That eyeliner looks great on you."
The door shuts behind them, and the room is silent. She checks her watch, trying to focus on thoughts of a beach hammock, or... or just her dinner tonight, after the day is over, maybe the big bottle of vodka waiting in her kitchen cupboard.
And then she leaves the room and goes and gets her soda.