Fic: Last Chance
May. 24th, 2009 11:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Last Chance
Fandom/original: original
Rating: PG-13
A/N: The title was the prompt from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rougen. This scene was my immediate thought.
"You already knew how I would answer. Do not pretend it surprises you." Stella's voice was cool, clipped and even as ever.
Felicia said, "You two have fun with your useless scientist. I'm going to go check the perimeter." The dragon gave the slender blond woman a significant look, but Clara... or rather Morpheo, just smirked. But Felicia didn't linger before moving to go. The woman slumped in the corner barely stirred.
Robert Verscetti said, impatiently, "We're simply wasting time, now." He turned to Stella, their eyes meeting. "Clearly, her mind is made up."
Morpheo walked around the room, lazily, almost catlike. "You're usually such a patient man, Verscetti. Have you no confidence in your own guards?"
Robert shook his head, looking away from Stella. "Plenty. But I dislike wasting time."
"Noted." Clara's pitch black eyes turned to Stella, lingering there. Stella'd had her finger on the triggering mechanism of her reliquary for a few moments now, but neither Morpheo nor Verscetti knew what the item was, much less that she was doing anything with it. Morpheo, through Clara, said more quietly, "I doubt you give me credit for understanding you, Miss Willoughby. But perhaps I do, more than you're allowing. You take great pride in your work, and always have. After your...romantic setback, it is hardly surprising you would make it the focus of your self-image. And your loyalty to your family is both admirable and predictable. However. There is no need to martyr yourself."
She didn't look away, nor did she flinch. "You proposed a business transaction that I was not willing to entertain. Becoming personal is unprofessional and sloppy, Puppet Master." She wondered if the reliquary would work properly. She'd never had a chance to test it. But then, she supposed, at present she had absolutely nothing to lose.
Clara chuckled with his voice. "It's a very good act, Miss Willoughby. I would wager most people bought it." Clara tilted her head. "That must have made for a rather isolated life, then." Clara gave a small nod, and Verscetti drew a gun. In the same tone, she said, "Down on your knees, then, if you would be so kind."
Stella complied, not looking back at Verscetti or his weapon, her eyes steadily on Clara. Her dress complicated the maneuver slightly, but she managed it with grace enough. "You must know you won't succeed. Perhaps with me, though the family loyalty you mentioned contemptuously does cut both ways. But the large plan. What you're attempting - it cannot happen. What is is you are trying to smokescreen?"
Clara smirked. "A shame you could not be converted, Miss Willoughby. You would have made an excellent addition to the staff. Clever and efficient. And had you cared to be, you could have been quite lovely as well."
Verscetti said, "Damn it, Morpheo, fish or cut bait." Though he had no qualms about killing the woman, playing with her first was unnecessary in the extreme.
"See? I think you and Mr. Verscetti might have gotten along beautifully, in another life."
Stella said nothing, gray eyes steady on the possessed Clara, expression blankly calm.
Clara leaned down a little, though not so close as to be foolhardy. "You never even heard my asking price."
The tiniest flicker of anger touched her eyes. "You can offer nothing that would interest me, you sad little tyrant."
Clara shrugged and stepped back. A moment later, Stella's eyes widened, though Verscetti couldn't see it to wonder why. Languidly, Clara nodded. "Well. You were right; her mind is made up. And we need to keep our guest incapacitated for a little longer. This should serve. Please go ahead, Mr. Verscetti." The man moved to come around to the first, but Clara said, "No, where you are will do."
Verscetti said, low, "If you're facing her, you can shoot her yourself."
Clara glanced up at him. "Robert. After tonight, you may run your operations however you see fit. But please shoot Miss Willoughby so we can move on."
Stella said, almost tired, "Yes, get on with it, if you would."
The three people who felt the shot couldn't hear a thing; the gunshot only echoed two sets of ears, and passed after a moment without further discomfort.
Fandom/original: original
Rating: PG-13
A/N: The title was the prompt from
rougen. This scene was my immediate thought."You already knew how I would answer. Do not pretend it surprises you." Stella's voice was cool, clipped and even as ever.
Felicia said, "You two have fun with your useless scientist. I'm going to go check the perimeter." The dragon gave the slender blond woman a significant look, but Clara... or rather Morpheo, just smirked. But Felicia didn't linger before moving to go. The woman slumped in the corner barely stirred.
Robert Verscetti said, impatiently, "We're simply wasting time, now." He turned to Stella, their eyes meeting. "Clearly, her mind is made up."
Morpheo walked around the room, lazily, almost catlike. "You're usually such a patient man, Verscetti. Have you no confidence in your own guards?"
Robert shook his head, looking away from Stella. "Plenty. But I dislike wasting time."
"Noted." Clara's pitch black eyes turned to Stella, lingering there. Stella'd had her finger on the triggering mechanism of her reliquary for a few moments now, but neither Morpheo nor Verscetti knew what the item was, much less that she was doing anything with it. Morpheo, through Clara, said more quietly, "I doubt you give me credit for understanding you, Miss Willoughby. But perhaps I do, more than you're allowing. You take great pride in your work, and always have. After your...romantic setback, it is hardly surprising you would make it the focus of your self-image. And your loyalty to your family is both admirable and predictable. However. There is no need to martyr yourself."
She didn't look away, nor did she flinch. "You proposed a business transaction that I was not willing to entertain. Becoming personal is unprofessional and sloppy, Puppet Master." She wondered if the reliquary would work properly. She'd never had a chance to test it. But then, she supposed, at present she had absolutely nothing to lose.
Clara chuckled with his voice. "It's a very good act, Miss Willoughby. I would wager most people bought it." Clara tilted her head. "That must have made for a rather isolated life, then." Clara gave a small nod, and Verscetti drew a gun. In the same tone, she said, "Down on your knees, then, if you would be so kind."
Stella complied, not looking back at Verscetti or his weapon, her eyes steadily on Clara. Her dress complicated the maneuver slightly, but she managed it with grace enough. "You must know you won't succeed. Perhaps with me, though the family loyalty you mentioned contemptuously does cut both ways. But the large plan. What you're attempting - it cannot happen. What is is you are trying to smokescreen?"
Clara smirked. "A shame you could not be converted, Miss Willoughby. You would have made an excellent addition to the staff. Clever and efficient. And had you cared to be, you could have been quite lovely as well."
Verscetti said, "Damn it, Morpheo, fish or cut bait." Though he had no qualms about killing the woman, playing with her first was unnecessary in the extreme.
"See? I think you and Mr. Verscetti might have gotten along beautifully, in another life."
Stella said nothing, gray eyes steady on the possessed Clara, expression blankly calm.
Clara leaned down a little, though not so close as to be foolhardy. "You never even heard my asking price."
The tiniest flicker of anger touched her eyes. "You can offer nothing that would interest me, you sad little tyrant."
Clara shrugged and stepped back. A moment later, Stella's eyes widened, though Verscetti couldn't see it to wonder why. Languidly, Clara nodded. "Well. You were right; her mind is made up. And we need to keep our guest incapacitated for a little longer. This should serve. Please go ahead, Mr. Verscetti." The man moved to come around to the first, but Clara said, "No, where you are will do."
Verscetti said, low, "If you're facing her, you can shoot her yourself."
Clara glanced up at him. "Robert. After tonight, you may run your operations however you see fit. But please shoot Miss Willoughby so we can move on."
Stella said, almost tired, "Yes, get on with it, if you would."
The three people who felt the shot couldn't hear a thing; the gunshot only echoed two sets of ears, and passed after a moment without further discomfort.
