This was mildly inspired by a scene from Alias where Sydney (a spy for the CIA) is telling her roommate about four friends from work who were “terminated” (ie killed in the line of duty) and Francie, who thinks Syd works at a bank, replies “The economy really sucks.”
Spoilers: The Storm and The Eye, though some things have been altered/removed.
Summary: In which Elizabeth’s office is nearly overcome, messages are remain nearly unsent, and John nearly spoils dinner. In no particular order.
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Eye in the Storm
Jonas Quinn had unknowingly been born a chef. It had taken an abandoned degree in applied chemical analysis and a year or so as a probationary fireman before he realized what his grandmother had known since the first time he set the kitchen on fire trying to make rainy day s’mores for his cousins: his destiny lay in cooking for other people.
Accordingly, Jonas had opened a restaurant approximately halfway between the fire hall and the PR firm in order to easily accommodate everyone he knew. With an assured clientele and the ability to actually cook, the business had taken off. This worked out well for Jonas, but annoyed most of his friends, as they now actually had to make reservations to eat there.
Not even the bad weather had been enough to keep his customers away. It had been pouring rain all day with tremendous thunder and lightning that was only just beginning to slack off, and Jonas had barely had a moment to himself. He was finally pouring himself a cup of much needed coffee when a muffled argument at the coat check caught his attention.
“We don’t need to stay John.”
“Yes we do. We booked this days ago, and one bad day at the office-”
“One bad day at the office? John you ruined the lives of sixty people!”
“It was them or you, Elizabeth.”
The gradual increase in volume allowed the last remark to reverberate through the suddenly silent restaurant and Jonas moved over to prevent the ruckus from escalating to a full blown scene.
“May I show you to your table?” He always asked the question in the same tone – light and vaguely amused – but tonight he was hoping to forestall actual fireworks, so there was a mite of desperation as well.
“Hello Jonas. That would be wonderful.” Elizabeth Weir, in the dictionary right under ‘tact’ and ‘discretion’.
Jonas led the now silent couple to the rear of the restaurant where the more secluded tables were located. He signaled to the server cleverly concealed by a series of Chinese-style curtains that he would take care of this table himself. He took the bottle of wine he had left decanting for the pair and opened it, pouring them each a glass.
“What exactly happened at the office today?” he asked as casually as he could. “I heard a bunch of sirens just as the storm was picking up; right before all the lightning started.”
“Have you ever heard of the GNI?” John asked, a fair amount of bitterness in his voice?
Jonas pulled up a chair and poured himself a glass of wine. So much for dinner….
“God, John, you’re actually sopping!”
“Sorry about the rug.”
“Never mind the rug. Do you have anything to change into?”
John shot her a look filled with about as much sardonic dignity as a man dressed in soaking wet bike gear could manage. Elizabeth snickered in spite of herself.
“I’ll have Teyla find something. Generally, I employ a group of massively over-prepared people. One of them will have something. Of course, if they don’t, I have a lovely little blanket that will match your eyes…not to mention render my imagination completely superfluous.”
John glowered at her and she laughed, then called down the hall to Teyla and handed him the artfully crocheted and mostly decorative blanket which usually adorned the sofa in the corner of her office. He continued to drip on the rug.
“Coffee?”
“Please,” John replied. “What’s so important about this message anyway? It’s really bad out there and my boss didn’t want me riding in it.”
“Oh…” Elizabeth’s face darkened slightly. “A company called Global Newsgroups Incorporated tried to buy us out this morning. I have to sign this and get it to the bank ASAP or they’ll be able to just take us over.”
“What?”
“Hostile take over, John. It happens.” She sat down on the sofa, looking dejected.
“And if they do?” John continued dripping, but he now had other concerns.
“Most of my people will lose their jobs, I’d imagine. I’d have to start all over again.”
“How did this happen?”
“Remember the Menarian Group? They were that agricultural lobby group that claimed to be all organic and I kind of…outed them.” Elizabeth winced. “Anyway, they wooed one of my junior partners away and he gave up a particular loophole in my contract I hadn’t got around to fixing yet and….”
Elizabeth petered off and looked out the window at the streaming rain. She sighed.
“You can’t get to the bank, can you.”
“Not in this,” John admitted. “Can’t you send a fax?”
“We tried. We lost power just before you got here and even though it’s back on it seems to have scrambled our phone lines. Rodney’s working on it, but there was a fire in the wiring and now he’s got some goon looking over his shoulder and – ”
There was a knock at the door and Elizabeth turned around expecting to see Teyla with a borrowed suit for John. Instead, the doorway was filled with the imposing and much disliked form of the man who headed “Acquisitions” for the GNI. His name was Kolya, and he had been hovering around Elizabeth’s office all day lording it over her that he was taking her apart one piece at a time. His people were everywhere in the building, they eavesdropped on telephone conversations and somehow managed to get information Elizabeth wasn’t even aware her employees talked about. And they gave it all to Kolya, and then he made her life miserable.
“This must be the famous John Sheppard.” Koyla’s voice has a disconcerting booming quality about it. “He can deliver anything, anywhere…but only if you’re a good little company. My associates at Wrathe Enterprises are rather bitter that your delivery firm chose not to renew their contract. I can only hope that once my takeover here is complete, you will continue to work for us. There is only so much work for a bike messenger in this town, after all. I’d hate to see you squander yet another potential client.”
“I don’t make those decisions, pal.” John replied, his voice deceptively friendly. “You’ll have to take it up with my bosses.”
“Of course.” Kolya turned to Elizabeth. “Any luck with those phone lines yet?”
“Rodney tells me they’re coming along nicely.” Elizabeth said, an acidic smile on her face.
“Splendid.” Kolya replied without the faintest trace of sincerity. “I’ll leave you to your discussion then. Wonderful weather we’re having, don’t you think?”
Elizabeth laid her hand on John’s forearm which prevented him from chasing Kolya down the hall and throwing him down the elevator shaft, but she couldn’t prevent him from seething, nor from throwing the sodden blanket at one of the plants in the corner of her office.
“I am going to the bank.” John said flatly. “Sign whatever you have to and then give it back to me.”
“John – ”
“Now, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth took a pen out of her desk and signed the forms John had brought her. She put them back in their envelope and handed them over.
“Be careful, John.”
He kissed her. “I will.”
It was, he reflected a short time afterwards, very wet out. He had already been soaked, so this was hardly an issue, but his tires slid all over the place and he knew that if he had to stop in a hurry he would be in trouble. In addition, water was dripping down through his helmet in a way he could neither prevent nor ignore.
When he finally made it through the doors at the bank, he was quite a sight. His shoes squeaked, his normally skin tight uniform glistened under the fluorescent lights and his hair stuck out in wet spikes every which way. His face was a mask of bitter determination, however, and people got out of his way.
“Wait!” The voice was behind him, and he turned.
He recognized the speaker. Her name was Sora and she had applied for the job Elizabeth had given to Teyla. Both women had been equally competent and qualified, but Elizabeth had taken an immediate liking to Teyla, and that had been the deciding factor in her hiring. Sora had taken it badly and had left Elizabeth’s office muttering curses at Teyla and whispering insults to Elizabeth.
“Wait, please!” She caught up with him. “The GNI need this company. We’ve overshot our budget in hiring this year. If Kolya doesn’t buy this company, more than 60 people will lose their jobs.”
John looked at her as though she was a resident of another planet. Then without a word he turned on his squelching heal, walked to the bank’s business manager and handed over Elizabeth’s envelope. Sora looked crushed and bitter, but not particularly surprised. She immediately took out a cell phone and even though John knew she was calling Kolya to tell them it had failed, John didn’t stick around to hear the conversation.
It had mostly stopped raining by the time he made it back to Elizabeth’s office building. There was a tremendous amount of water in the streets still and riding was treacherous, but he needed to see her.
When he arrived back in her office, Teyla had a suit waiting for him at her desk. It was actually one of his own, and he remembered then that he and Elizabeth had dinner reservations that evening and he’d dropped the suit off yesterday so he’d have something other than his tights to wear.
“It’s done, Elizabeth.”
“I know. Kolya left just before you got here. He was acting like I’d shot him.” Elizabeth paused. “I didn’t tell you, but…the GNI are going to have to fire – ”
“I know.” He said shortly. “An old friend was spying at the bank.”
“Sora.”
He nodded. “I would have done it any way, Elizabeth. You’ve worked too hard to be bullied out of this place.”
“I know, John, it’s just…”
“I’ll call Jonas and tell him we’re not coming.”
“No. I think we should go. I mean, we have to eat and we did make plans. He’s expecting us.”
Jonas emptied the last of the wine into John’s glass, although he wasn’t sure which of the two in front of him needed it more.
“I can’t think of any other way to do it.” Jonas said. “I mean, at some point you have to defend what’s yours. You built that company from the ground, Elizabeth. And you, John, Elizabeth employs, what, 40 full time staff and at least 10 specialist consultants? Are the 60 GNI worth more than that?”
Elizabeth and John looked at one another across the table, and John took her hand in his.
“No.” said Elizabeth finally. “No, we did the right thing.”
“I’m glad that’s all settled,” Jonas stood up and smiled his trademark grin. “And now on to more difficult decisions: will you be having the chicken or the fish?”
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finis
gravitynotincluded, December 5, 2005