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Christmas offer
I am super busy with work again, in the Netherlands after my wonderful-but-busy vacation in North America. So my fic output is basically nonexistent because I don't have the brainpower for planning.
However, Christmas is coming, despite the fact that it is currently 12 degrees CELSIUS and drizzly (low 50s F). Tis the season for giving, so if there's a fic you want (things on my mind lately include D9 in the war, the Giant Killer Octopus thing, postwar divergence as always, and, randomly, Johanna Mason), or a question you'd like me to ramble about (cephalopods and their amazingness, District 9 in the Dark Days, what the hell I actually do all day with this "work" stuff, etc etc etc) post in the comments and I will attempt to answer.
Also, the new Star Wars is wonderful and you should all see it.
However, Christmas is coming, despite the fact that it is currently 12 degrees CELSIUS and drizzly (low 50s F). Tis the season for giving, so if there's a fic you want (things on my mind lately include D9 in the war, the Giant Killer Octopus thing, postwar divergence as always, and, randomly, Johanna Mason), or a question you'd like me to ramble about (cephalopods and their amazingness, District 9 in the Dark Days, what the hell I actually do all day with this "work" stuff, etc etc etc) post in the comments and I will attempt to answer.
Also, the new Star Wars is wonderful and you should all see it.
Lyme and Brutus--They'll brief you (Octopus 'verse)
Brutus sets the bottles on the counter and takes one of the beers, pops it open with the opener on his keys before taking it back to the couch. Lyme grabs a glass, pours herself a drink, and follows.
"So what's going on?" Lyme asks, settling back in her chair and taking a drink.
Brutus spins the bottle between his palms, pretends there's something really interesting about the label. "General Ronan's going to ask you to lead a new team," he says, finally looking up at her. "But fair warning, you're gonna hate it."
Lyme has a rule about reacting the way Brutus wants her to and it's "don't," so she doesn't say "What the fuck?" she just raises an eyebrow and motions for him to go on.
"They're putting together a unit called Special Threats," Brutus continues, "And they're going to ask you to lead it."
Lyme shrugs. "This have something to do with those collaboration tests they did last week?" she asks, because two weird things that close together have to be related. "Or all your trips up to Pasadena?"
"Yep," Brutus says, not specifying which he's responding to, so Lyme just assumes it's both. "You'll get briefed."
"Assuming I agree," Lyme says. "Which you don't think I'll want to do."
"They're recruiting civilians," Brutus says, "All girls, they have to pass a physical but other than that," he shrugs one shoulder. "I've seen the files, farm kids and mechanics and city girls who don't know shit."
"Why?" Lyme asks, because she can't help herself.
"They'll brief you," Brutus says again, and Lyme glares at him.
"Why'd you come over here if you can't tell me anything?" she asks.
"Because I think you should do it," he says. "They'll let you say no, probably," he admits, and Lyme would normally crow at the implication that she's valuable enough to do that, but Brutus has his serious face on. More even than usual. "But," and this time he actually pauses, looks sideways like he's trying to figure out what to say, and Lyme wishes there were a camera hidden somewhere to capture this. "You're good. We need you."
Lyme sits back, downs the rest of her drink and looks at him. "But you can't tell me anything about it."
Brutus shakes his head. "They'll.."
"They'll brief me," Lyme interrupts him. "I get it."
"You'd call me crazy if I told you." Brutus says. "I'm just hoping the warning means you won't call Ronan crazy to his face."
"I can't wait," Lyme says, deadpan.
--
When she comes home the next day Brutus is sitting on the bench on her porch.
She glares as she walks past to open the door, and he follows her in. The bottle's still on the counter and she pours herself a glass, grabs one of Brutus' beers from the fridge and tosses it to him.
"You weren't kidding about the crazy," she says, as she sits down.
Brutus huffs a laugh. "Nope," he says.
"They brought in one of your scientist friends," Lyme continues. "Since when are we living in a bad sci-fi movie?"
Now Brutus actually cracks a smile, sits back, watching her. "Don't ask me," he says. "I just try to keep them from getting themselves killed."
"You know the worst part?" Lyme asks, rhetorical, but Brutus answers anyway.
"Just how much fun Misha is going to have with this shitshow?"
"Yeah," Lyme says, running a hand through her hair. "New weaponry, unorthodox chain of command, flexible regulations, and she's supposed to be in charge of a bunch of girls from who-knows-where."
"Yep," Brutus says, only a little vindictive. "She's gonna have a blast."
RE: Lyme and Brutus--They'll brief you (Octopus 'verse)
RE: Lyme and Brutus--They'll brief you (Octopus 'verse)
RE: Lyme and Brutus--They'll brief you (Octopus 'verse)
(my brain read "Special Threats" as "Special Treats" but then I realized that's probably only for Wiress and Eibhlin >> )
RE: Lyme and Brutus--They'll brief you (Octopus 'verse)