Author: Lucinda
Rating: pg/pg13
Main character Lindsey McDonald
Disclaimer: If you recognize the, they are not mine. Anyone from BtVS or A:tS is the creation of Joss Whedon.
Distribution: notes response to Jinni's Poetry Quote challenge, week #10. Set before his appearance in Angel: the Series.
Dedicated to Imzadi - I hope you like it.
Jumping off the highboard-
Into the marshmallow pool.
Swimming through the greenbeans,
I'm NOBODY'S fool.
Bouncing on a rubber stamp
Trying to print your name.
Hoping hard to make the score-
Who says life's a game???
--Jen LeMaire, "Fish" (c) 1990
He'd worked hard to get through law school, to do more than just squeak by. To succeed, to shine. Lindsey McDonald was tired of being 'one of those McDonald brats', the youngest in a large family of people that enjoyed taking risks, flirting with danger, and pushing the limits.
He was going to be somebody. He would make certain that the name of Lindsey McDonald would get a little respect.
The bar had been last week. Naturally, he'd passed, the only acceptable result after the long hard effort that had preceded it. Failure at this point was not acceptable. Now, he was interviewing for a job. The degree in Law and the legal permissions to practice wouldn't get him very far without a job.
Several places had responded to his resumes, and he'd had a couple interviews. Today though, today he would be interviewing at Wolfram and Hart, one of the largest firms in Los Angeles. Getting a job there might not make him particularly special in the company hierarchy, but... talk about room for advancement. Somewhere like that, the only way to go would be up. And he was a man with ambition.
He had talked with a pair of people in the Human Resources department, answering their questions about his education, and why he thought that he could do well as part of the Wolfram and Hart law firm. He wasn't certain at first, but he gradually came to the near certain conclusion that the man in the dark gray suit was deliberately trying to make him loose his temper. Was this a test to see if he could keep his head under pressure? But if this idiot asked him how he would deal with a case of alleged persecution based on sexual preferences one more time...
"Mister Dobbins, that is quite enough." The voice was cool, with a faint trace of some unnamable accent, possibly related to Greek?
The speaker was a small man, probably no higher than Lindsey's chin, although it was harder to guess as Lindsey was sitting and the new arrival was standing. There was something about the shape of his head that seemed... slightly off, and his eyes seemed a bit too large, a bit too green. Remembering his manners, Lindsey stood up, looking at the new arrival with respect and hopefully concealing his frustration with Mr. Dobbins. He offered a polite greeting. "Sir."
"Come this way, Lindsey McDonald." There was a slight tilting of thin lips that could have been a smile.
Gathering up his documentation that proved he was indeed qualified, Lindsey followed the unnamed man out of the room. He wasn't quite certain who the short man was, but from the way that Dobbins and his partner had twitched, he was someone important. Lindsey wanted to ask how he could be useful to the important man, what had caught his interest, but he couldn't think of a way that wouldn't sound inept, clumsy, or sycophantic. Considering that, he held his silence. After all, best not say something foolish if he could prevent it.
"Now, Lindsey McDonald, we shall have you speak with someone serious, who will truly be seeking to learn how capable you would be at the profession of law." Again, there was that strange accent, and the phrasing almost screamed that English wasn't the native language of the small figure. With a small motion that seemed almost like a half bow and a stage magician's flourish, he gestured at a woman sitting at a moderate sized dark wooden table. "I present you now to Irene Constantine."
Lindsey looked at Irene Constantine, trying to read her as the small man slipped out of the room. She had red hair touched with gray at the temples, a firm mouth that looked used to frowning, and pale almost watery colored eyes. She was in a severe suit of an ashen gray that probably cost more than Lindsey's entire wardrobe put together. His knuckles clutched a bit tighter around the handle of his briefcase, and Lindsey tried to offer her the charming smile. "Ma'am."
Irene offered him a slight smile, but it almost looked as if the certainly unfamiliar expression pained her. "Please, sit down, Mister McDonald. If I might see a copy of your resume?"
For a few moments, there was near silence, only the loud seeming fwiip noise of crisp pages turning, and the occasional 'hmmm' or 'ahh' as Ms. Constantine surveyed his resume, application, and transcripts. "You do seem to have all your papers in order."
Somehow, that felt like a compliment from this woman. He wondered for a moment what she did, but refused to ask, contenting himself with a mere murmured "Thank you, Ms. Constantine."
"Tell me, why do you wish to apply to become a very minor footnote to this legal giant?" There was something glinting in her eye, and he knew that this was a test.
Taking a deep breath, Lindsey decided to take a risk. He decided to try the simple truth. "Honestly? I don't want to be a minor footnote. But if I am to gain advancement in my chosen career, I need to get a start somewhere. Once I'm started, then I can advance. But I have to get a toehold."
There was a slight change in her glacial eyes, although he couldn't interpret it. "I see. And how well do you work with others?"
"I try very hard to ensure that the end goal will be met, and to encourage everyone to make contributions." He let the effort at the charming smile fall, fairly certain that a pair of pretty eyes and a carefully friendly smile would get nowhere with this woman.
"mmm. Very good ideas, both of them." For a few moments, she appeared to be shuffling through some papers. Then, she removed a pair of stapled packets, sliding the thicker one towards him. "Look over that and see if you could work within those legal restrictions and frameworks."
"Yes ma'am." Lindsey started skimming over the packet, trying to get an idea of just what this was. Health benefits and insurance program, dress code, procedure for sick leave, vacation days, requested transfers, retirement funds... There was more, an astonishingly thick section labeled 'Conduct Expected of Employees'. Glancing through, he noted things about punctuality, continued education, quarterly reviews, and personal shrines... wait a minute, personal shrines? There was actually a section about establishing a personal shrine for the religious figure of the employee's preference, with sections about the size permitted, types and quantities of incense and sacrifices...
Looking up at Ms. Constantine, he offered a thoughtful smile. "Ma'am, I must admit there appear to be a few items in this Code of Conduct that I am not accustomed to looking for. May I take it home with me for a more detailed examination?"
Her smile this time looked far less pained and far less like a friendly expression and more like something that might be seen from a barracuda, all sharp looking teeth and pale eyes. "Oh, by all means take the code home to peruse. And if you find it acceptable, then come back in, and drop this off, signed with the front desk, and they can tell you when and where to start."
All those teeth caused a bit of a shiver to go over his spine. Was it normal for a person to look quite that pale? "Thank you for your confidence in me, Ms. Constantine."
"Oh, the pleasure is mine, Mr. McDonald. I think that you could do big things here at Wolfram and Hart, and I'm looking forward to watching your career." She stood up, holding out a cool hand with long fingernails painted a pale silvery hue.
Shaking her cold hand, Lindsey felt those nails scrape over his palm. He resisted the urge to check for bleeding. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Constantine."
As he walked out of the building, Lindsey smiled. Things were coming together now. Soon, if he played things right, he'd be swimming with the big fish, instead of being one of the little unnoticed and expendable bottom feeders. Things were looking up. Not that he had any idea why a law firm would need a clause stating that no more than one chicken could be sacrificed per ten hours worked each week... But there had been a lot of lawsuits lately about anti-discrimination and equal opportunity. Surely that was all there was to it...
End Swimming with the Big Fish
Rating: pg/pg13
Main character Lindsey McDonald
Disclaimer: If you recognize the, they are not mine. Anyone from BtVS or A:tS is the creation of Joss Whedon.
Distribution: notes response to Jinni's Poetry Quote challenge, week #10. Set before his appearance in Angel: the Series.
Dedicated to Imzadi - I hope you like it.
Jumping off the highboard-
Into the marshmallow pool.
Swimming through the greenbeans,
I'm NOBODY'S fool.
Bouncing on a rubber stamp
Trying to print your name.
Hoping hard to make the score-
Who says life's a game???
--Jen LeMaire, "Fish" (c) 1990
He'd worked hard to get through law school, to do more than just squeak by. To succeed, to shine. Lindsey McDonald was tired of being 'one of those McDonald brats', the youngest in a large family of people that enjoyed taking risks, flirting with danger, and pushing the limits.
He was going to be somebody. He would make certain that the name of Lindsey McDonald would get a little respect.
The bar had been last week. Naturally, he'd passed, the only acceptable result after the long hard effort that had preceded it. Failure at this point was not acceptable. Now, he was interviewing for a job. The degree in Law and the legal permissions to practice wouldn't get him very far without a job.
Several places had responded to his resumes, and he'd had a couple interviews. Today though, today he would be interviewing at Wolfram and Hart, one of the largest firms in Los Angeles. Getting a job there might not make him particularly special in the company hierarchy, but... talk about room for advancement. Somewhere like that, the only way to go would be up. And he was a man with ambition.
He had talked with a pair of people in the Human Resources department, answering their questions about his education, and why he thought that he could do well as part of the Wolfram and Hart law firm. He wasn't certain at first, but he gradually came to the near certain conclusion that the man in the dark gray suit was deliberately trying to make him loose his temper. Was this a test to see if he could keep his head under pressure? But if this idiot asked him how he would deal with a case of alleged persecution based on sexual preferences one more time...
"Mister Dobbins, that is quite enough." The voice was cool, with a faint trace of some unnamable accent, possibly related to Greek?
The speaker was a small man, probably no higher than Lindsey's chin, although it was harder to guess as Lindsey was sitting and the new arrival was standing. There was something about the shape of his head that seemed... slightly off, and his eyes seemed a bit too large, a bit too green. Remembering his manners, Lindsey stood up, looking at the new arrival with respect and hopefully concealing his frustration with Mr. Dobbins. He offered a polite greeting. "Sir."
"Come this way, Lindsey McDonald." There was a slight tilting of thin lips that could have been a smile.
Gathering up his documentation that proved he was indeed qualified, Lindsey followed the unnamed man out of the room. He wasn't quite certain who the short man was, but from the way that Dobbins and his partner had twitched, he was someone important. Lindsey wanted to ask how he could be useful to the important man, what had caught his interest, but he couldn't think of a way that wouldn't sound inept, clumsy, or sycophantic. Considering that, he held his silence. After all, best not say something foolish if he could prevent it.
"Now, Lindsey McDonald, we shall have you speak with someone serious, who will truly be seeking to learn how capable you would be at the profession of law." Again, there was that strange accent, and the phrasing almost screamed that English wasn't the native language of the small figure. With a small motion that seemed almost like a half bow and a stage magician's flourish, he gestured at a woman sitting at a moderate sized dark wooden table. "I present you now to Irene Constantine."
Lindsey looked at Irene Constantine, trying to read her as the small man slipped out of the room. She had red hair touched with gray at the temples, a firm mouth that looked used to frowning, and pale almost watery colored eyes. She was in a severe suit of an ashen gray that probably cost more than Lindsey's entire wardrobe put together. His knuckles clutched a bit tighter around the handle of his briefcase, and Lindsey tried to offer her the charming smile. "Ma'am."
Irene offered him a slight smile, but it almost looked as if the certainly unfamiliar expression pained her. "Please, sit down, Mister McDonald. If I might see a copy of your resume?"
For a few moments, there was near silence, only the loud seeming fwiip noise of crisp pages turning, and the occasional 'hmmm' or 'ahh' as Ms. Constantine surveyed his resume, application, and transcripts. "You do seem to have all your papers in order."
Somehow, that felt like a compliment from this woman. He wondered for a moment what she did, but refused to ask, contenting himself with a mere murmured "Thank you, Ms. Constantine."
"Tell me, why do you wish to apply to become a very minor footnote to this legal giant?" There was something glinting in her eye, and he knew that this was a test.
Taking a deep breath, Lindsey decided to take a risk. He decided to try the simple truth. "Honestly? I don't want to be a minor footnote. But if I am to gain advancement in my chosen career, I need to get a start somewhere. Once I'm started, then I can advance. But I have to get a toehold."
There was a slight change in her glacial eyes, although he couldn't interpret it. "I see. And how well do you work with others?"
"I try very hard to ensure that the end goal will be met, and to encourage everyone to make contributions." He let the effort at the charming smile fall, fairly certain that a pair of pretty eyes and a carefully friendly smile would get nowhere with this woman.
"mmm. Very good ideas, both of them." For a few moments, she appeared to be shuffling through some papers. Then, she removed a pair of stapled packets, sliding the thicker one towards him. "Look over that and see if you could work within those legal restrictions and frameworks."
"Yes ma'am." Lindsey started skimming over the packet, trying to get an idea of just what this was. Health benefits and insurance program, dress code, procedure for sick leave, vacation days, requested transfers, retirement funds... There was more, an astonishingly thick section labeled 'Conduct Expected of Employees'. Glancing through, he noted things about punctuality, continued education, quarterly reviews, and personal shrines... wait a minute, personal shrines? There was actually a section about establishing a personal shrine for the religious figure of the employee's preference, with sections about the size permitted, types and quantities of incense and sacrifices...
Looking up at Ms. Constantine, he offered a thoughtful smile. "Ma'am, I must admit there appear to be a few items in this Code of Conduct that I am not accustomed to looking for. May I take it home with me for a more detailed examination?"
Her smile this time looked far less pained and far less like a friendly expression and more like something that might be seen from a barracuda, all sharp looking teeth and pale eyes. "Oh, by all means take the code home to peruse. And if you find it acceptable, then come back in, and drop this off, signed with the front desk, and they can tell you when and where to start."
All those teeth caused a bit of a shiver to go over his spine. Was it normal for a person to look quite that pale? "Thank you for your confidence in me, Ms. Constantine."
"Oh, the pleasure is mine, Mr. McDonald. I think that you could do big things here at Wolfram and Hart, and I'm looking forward to watching your career." She stood up, holding out a cool hand with long fingernails painted a pale silvery hue.
Shaking her cold hand, Lindsey felt those nails scrape over his palm. He resisted the urge to check for bleeding. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Constantine."
As he walked out of the building, Lindsey smiled. Things were coming together now. Soon, if he played things right, he'd be swimming with the big fish, instead of being one of the little unnoticed and expendable bottom feeders. Things were looking up. Not that he had any idea why a law firm would need a clause stating that no more than one chicken could be sacrificed per ten hours worked each week... But there had been a lot of lawsuits lately about anti-discrimination and equal opportunity. Surely that was all there was to it...
End Swimming with the Big Fish