Hello Everyone! I wanted to say a quick 'Hello'. This is my first Fanfiction so putting it out here, little that it may be, is very frightening and quite exciting as well. My intention is that this will be a series of little vignettes, moments, brief encounters between Flynn (during various points of his life after becoming the Librarian) and a woman who works at the Metropolitan Public Library. She's an OC, and obviously the only thing about this that I own. These will span the first film and up to the most recent episode of the new series, though it will definitely be AU as I'm taking a romantic angle with this. If the response is positive and people want to read more, I may consider turning this into a full story. For now though, I'm going to try to get one of these little moments out every couple of days. Please let me know what you think, any criticisms you take time to write are very much appreciated; and, if you are interested and want more, please let me know and I'll be happy to oblige. One final note. I don't have a beta for this right now so I'm doing the proofreading and editing myself. I realize the perils that poses and I'm doing my best, but I'm sure things will slip through. If you find them, let me know! Now then, I hope you enjoy this first little piece and my take on Flynn and his interactions.
Flynn drummed his fingers along the countertop, "It's CarSEN, SEN, SEN, S-E-N, not SON", he intoned.
The woman behind the desk did not look pleased. She was older than he was by thirty or so years and it had been a long time since she had allowed a scruffy, scoundrel of a young man like this to talk to her that way. She was not going to start today. "Excuse me Ms. Williams…" The woman spoke politely into the phone and then covered the mouthpiece of the receiver with one hand. "Where exactly did you say you were from again?" She cut him off, speaking louder, and with a voice that said absolute authority.
He stopped mid-sentence, he had been rambling on, explaining the etymology of his surname and the important distinction between the spelling s-e-n versus s-o-n. No one ever seemed to listen to him. "The Library... " he replied, hands coming up to gesture emphatically around as if that answered her question. She crossed her free arm over her chest and fixed him with a look that would have made the most stalwart of men squirm. "Ah… oh… I mean… " He searched his brain, vast portal of knowledge that it was, for some reasonable answer that would not get him hauled out of the building by security. "Acquisitions... " He answered at length, swallowing hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
"Acquisitions…" She repeated, looking completely unconvinced by him. She kept her gaze on him for a long moment before lifting the phone back to her ear. "I'm sorry about that Miss Williams… I have a Flynn CarSEN," she overemphasized the last three letters of his name, in possibly the most irritating way Flynn had ever heard, "from Acquisitions to see you... Mhmm… if you say so. I'll send him down." She set the phone down into the base with one hand and waved him toward a hallway set into the far wall with the other. "Basement level, right out of the elevator, through the doors at the end of the hall, right again, third door on the left. Name is on the plate outside of the door, knock before you go in and try not to disturb anyone." She finished, pushing her glasses up onto her face and settling down behind the desk, seemingly glad to be rid of him.
Flynn rolled his eyes and gave a juvenile huff before skirting the circular desk and heading down the hall to the elevator. He'd been the Librarian for more than a handful of years now. He kept expecting to feel like it. He expected to wake up one morning and feel sure of himself, feel like he was ready to take on the things that were going to come his way, however strange or dangerous they might be. To some extent he supposed he was, at least he was beginning to. The happenings of his 'vacation' in New Orleans had certainly changed him, certainly pointed him more towards action and acceptance than contemplation and uncertainty. But this, what he was doing right now... this was strange and frightening, and in that moment, finger on the elevator button, he was sure he had no idea why he was doing it. The doors were already closed though and he was falling. The ride was all too brief and then he was out, hands shoved in the pockets of his khakis. They were well fitted, if a little wrinkled, much like the rest of his appearance. He needed a bit of a hair cut, the ends sticking out a little wildly around his ears and neckline. He needed a shave too, stubble covering his jaw and creating a shadow upward around his mouth. The hair and budding beard had made very little difference to him this morning, when he'd thrown a light blue button down and the pants on. He hadn't even bothered tucking the shirt in and had left the top three buttons undone. His reflection in the opening elevator doors made him wish he'd taken more time…
He took the short walk down the halls in a few easy, long-legged strides and stopped outside a door. The name plate hung slightly crooked and the small window in the door itself was patterned slightly in an attempt to obscure the view inward. It took a minute to find her, the woman he'd come to see. She wasn't behind the old metal desk, she was sitting cross legged on the floor, her shoes next to her, a large book held on her lap. Her face was almost completely blocked by a curtain of wavy, if slightly unkempt brown hair; though he could make out a pair of dark rimmed glasses on her face. One hand turned the pages of the book, finger dragging along the text to follow the words, the other hand at her lips as if in some trepidation at what she read. She was wearing an oversized grey shirt, a light sweater material that hung slightly askew on her shoulders and pooled around her thighs over a pair of fitted jeans, her feet bare; she looked warm, she looked comfortable. She looked like it would be easy to slip into the office and settled down behind her, drawing her up to his chest and reading the book over her shoulder. Flynn imagined he would like that very much… He didn't know how long he stood there, watching and wondering, but the sound of approaching voices, somewhere behind him broke the moment and he stepped back and knocked.
The heart-shaped face that greeted him as the office door opened looked a little surprised and a little flushed; it was not at all an unpleasant sight. "Flynn!" She said his name with more enthusiasm than he had expected, or could have hoped for and the way in which it came out was not lost on her. He watched the flush on her cheeks darken and creep down her throat and had to turn away a moment, pretending to look down the hall, so that he didn't embarrass her more with the grin that had erupted on his face.
He leaned on the door frame, managing to control himself, though he was still smiling a little foolishly, his lips curled upward, eyes crinkling at the sides. "Hi…"
She nodded, "Hi…" her face still pink, and blew out a breath, he had obviously caught her off of her guard and it filled him with a strange sensation. Still, something about that dark pink staining her cheeks, and the way she'd said his name…
"I could use your expertise on something…" He spoke at length, drawing out the moment, the dark brown of his eyes roaming over her with less subtlety than he'd have liked but… he was still marveling at her face when she'd opened the door to him, the image burning into his mind. Flynn Carsen had never unintentionally made any woman blush, that he could remember; and certainly not by simply showing up at her door.
"My expertise…"She repeated and stepped back, pushing the door open to allow enough room for him. "I guess you had better come in then…" They were both smiling, more than was necessary, but Flynn couldn't seem stop himself, and he wasn't really interested in trying.