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peopleofthedas2011-06-04 02:24 am
amhran_comhrac) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-06-04 02:24 am
Fic: Hidden (one shot AU)
Title: Hidden
Characters: Maggie Amell/Anders, Jowan, Alistair
Rating: PG
Spoilers: zip
Word Count: under 1200
Summary: AU of AOA characters set in the mid 20th century. Requires no knowledge of the series. I don't think I ever posted this here. If so, sorry. Oops.
Written for a BSN challenge. Entire thing, start to end including proofreading, was under one hour.
"You're late," she called without looking up from her book.
"Sorry," he replied, setting his briefcase near the door and hanging his hat. "I had a meeting."
Her eyes narrowed, the book slamming closed. "Are you insane?"
He sighed, sitting down without bothering to remove the blood-splattered lab coat. "I wasn't followed. I'm sure of it. You're worrying too much."
"Am I?" she asked, tucking her legs under the full skirt of her dress, crinoline rustling loudly in the otherwise quiet room. "I think our phone is tapped."
"What?"
She shrugged, biting her lip. "I don't know. I called Alistair earlier, there was… a clicking sound."
"You're being paranoid," he said, voice revealing how nervous he had suddenly become.
"No," she said, shaking her head emphatically. "No. I thought the same thing. I've been so on edge lately… we both have. I figured my mind was playing tricks on me."
"But?"
"But Alistair said something about it. It wasn't just me, he heard it too. He said something before I did."
He smirked, leaning back. "I hardly think anyone would really care enough to listen to you gossip with your brother."
"Dammit, Anders, you know that's not what they're listening for." She jumped to her feet and began pacing. "I swear, sometimes it's like you want to get caught!"
He was silent. She spun on her heel, staring at him for a reply.
"I'm sick of hiding, sick of sneaking around," he said after a moment. "Sick of it. I haven't done a damned thing to be ashamed of. Why should we let them control us like this?"
"Because it's the law?" she snapped. "Because you could lose your license. Even if you don't… who would hire you after that? What would happen to us then?"
"Like you're any better," he said, sounding petulant.
"I'm a fucking housewife, what do I have to lose? I'm not throwing away years in medical school. What's the worst they could do to me, take away my right to cook?"
"If I'm lucky."
She stared at him for a moment before grinning despite herself, a small snicker escaping her lips. "I'm being serious here!"
He smirked at her, shoving his blonde hair back. "I can tell, you have your 'I'm being serious' face on." He paused, looking at his hands and sighing. "You're right. I just hate having to deny what I am. It feels so… wrong. I'm not ashamed, I shouldn't act like it."
"I know," she said, sinking to the couch next to him. "I just don't know what else we can do."
He wrapped an arm around her. "No, you're right. We'll just keep a low profile. This will blow over soon enough. How much longer can it go on, really?"
She nodded. "That's the best plan."
"Don't worry, we'll make it through this."
They were startled by a pounding at the back door.
"Wait here," Anders said, jumping to his feet.
Biting her lip, she strained to listen in. Anders returned a moment later, followed by a dark haired man in a similar lab coat. "Jowan?" she said, taking in his expression of panic. "My God, what's wrong? And where's your car."
"I parked around the block and walked," he said. "If I'm being watched… or you are, it wouldn't be good for anyone to see me here."
"Christ, you're starting to sound as bad as Maggie," Anders said, sitting back down.
"Hm," was all Jowan said, pulling a paper from his pocket, unfolding it, and tossing it on the table.
Anders grabbed it first. "Fuck."
"What?" Maggie demanded, trying to snatch it from him. He handed it over. "Oh shit," she muttered after a moment. "What happened?"
"Fucking Irving is what happened," Jowan snapped. "The bastard named names. He named fucking names. For all his 'we're in this together bullshit,' it sure didn't take much for him to hop sides." He sat down, hand against his forehead. "I had to warn you. I'm sure yours is on the way."
"I knew we shouldn't have trusted him," Anders said.
"He's the fucking Chief of Surgery, what should we have done?" Jowan said. "Exclude him and we both rot on the graveyard shift for another decade?"
"That sounds a lot better than this," Anders replied.
All three jumped to their feet as a car pulled into the driveway. "Hide," Maggie hissed to both of them. "I'll play dumb, better than letting them question you now." She sat quietly, waiting for the doorbell.
Bell.
Walk.
Breathe.
Plastering a vapid smile on her face she opened the front door. "Can I help you?"
"Is your husband at home, ma'am?" A man in a suit at the door. Black suit.
"Oh, no," she said, still grinning like an idiot. "He works very late. He's a surgeon," she said, sounding proud. Proud and brainless. Breathe, she reminded herself. Play dumb.
"That isn't his car?"
Fuck.
"It is," she admitted. "He takes turns driving with another of the doctors who live in the neighborhood." Did he buy it? Hm. Maybe.
"I suppose I'll have to leave this with you. Now, you make sure he gets it. It's very important."
"Of course," she said, still grinning. "Have a nice evening."
Watching through the peephole, an all clear wasn't sounded until the suited man had returned to his car and driven off.
Anders took the paper from her hands. "Well," he said, glancing at Jowan. "I suppose we can take the same flight."
Two weeks later Maggie sat, looking at the back of Anders' head from the other side of a wooden rail. He wore a new blue suit. Blue was nonthreatening. Her dress was nice, but not too nice. Nice enough to show she cared about her appearance, nice enough that no one would call it utilitarian or drab, but not so nice as to be ostentatious.
"Slide over."
She looked up. "Alistair, what in the hell are you doing here?"
He sat next to her. "What? You think I'll let you sit here alone?"
She bit her lip, looking down so her mouth was hidden. "You'll just get pulled down with us. What about your job?"
He shrugged. "I'm in the union. They can't just fire me out of hand." Leaning forward, he squeezed Anders' shoulder. Looking behind him, an expression of shock flashed across his face before it was replaced with a nervous but grateful smile.
The room was called to order. Squeezing Alistair's hand in fear, she listened to her husband confirm his name, birthdate, and occupation. Holding a breath, they all waited for the next question.
"Doctor, are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party of the United States?"
Characters: Maggie Amell/Anders, Jowan, Alistair
Rating: PG
Spoilers: zip
Word Count: under 1200
Summary: AU of AOA characters set in the mid 20th century. Requires no knowledge of the series. I don't think I ever posted this here. If so, sorry. Oops.
Written for a BSN challenge. Entire thing, start to end including proofreading, was under one hour.
Hidden
She looked up as headlights cut across the front window. The engine cut out in the driveway and a key rattled in the door."You're late," she called without looking up from her book.
"Sorry," he replied, setting his briefcase near the door and hanging his hat. "I had a meeting."
Her eyes narrowed, the book slamming closed. "Are you insane?"
He sighed, sitting down without bothering to remove the blood-splattered lab coat. "I wasn't followed. I'm sure of it. You're worrying too much."
"Am I?" she asked, tucking her legs under the full skirt of her dress, crinoline rustling loudly in the otherwise quiet room. "I think our phone is tapped."
"What?"
She shrugged, biting her lip. "I don't know. I called Alistair earlier, there was… a clicking sound."
"You're being paranoid," he said, voice revealing how nervous he had suddenly become.
"No," she said, shaking her head emphatically. "No. I thought the same thing. I've been so on edge lately… we both have. I figured my mind was playing tricks on me."
"But?"
"But Alistair said something about it. It wasn't just me, he heard it too. He said something before I did."
He smirked, leaning back. "I hardly think anyone would really care enough to listen to you gossip with your brother."
"Dammit, Anders, you know that's not what they're listening for." She jumped to her feet and began pacing. "I swear, sometimes it's like you want to get caught!"
He was silent. She spun on her heel, staring at him for a reply.
"I'm sick of hiding, sick of sneaking around," he said after a moment. "Sick of it. I haven't done a damned thing to be ashamed of. Why should we let them control us like this?"
"Because it's the law?" she snapped. "Because you could lose your license. Even if you don't… who would hire you after that? What would happen to us then?"
"Like you're any better," he said, sounding petulant.
"I'm a fucking housewife, what do I have to lose? I'm not throwing away years in medical school. What's the worst they could do to me, take away my right to cook?"
"If I'm lucky."
She stared at him for a moment before grinning despite herself, a small snicker escaping her lips. "I'm being serious here!"
He smirked at her, shoving his blonde hair back. "I can tell, you have your 'I'm being serious' face on." He paused, looking at his hands and sighing. "You're right. I just hate having to deny what I am. It feels so… wrong. I'm not ashamed, I shouldn't act like it."
"I know," she said, sinking to the couch next to him. "I just don't know what else we can do."
He wrapped an arm around her. "No, you're right. We'll just keep a low profile. This will blow over soon enough. How much longer can it go on, really?"
She nodded. "That's the best plan."
"Don't worry, we'll make it through this."
They were startled by a pounding at the back door.
"Wait here," Anders said, jumping to his feet.
Biting her lip, she strained to listen in. Anders returned a moment later, followed by a dark haired man in a similar lab coat. "Jowan?" she said, taking in his expression of panic. "My God, what's wrong? And where's your car."
"I parked around the block and walked," he said. "If I'm being watched… or you are, it wouldn't be good for anyone to see me here."
"Christ, you're starting to sound as bad as Maggie," Anders said, sitting back down.
"Hm," was all Jowan said, pulling a paper from his pocket, unfolding it, and tossing it on the table.
Anders grabbed it first. "Fuck."
"What?" Maggie demanded, trying to snatch it from him. He handed it over. "Oh shit," she muttered after a moment. "What happened?"
"Fucking Irving is what happened," Jowan snapped. "The bastard named names. He named fucking names. For all his 'we're in this together bullshit,' it sure didn't take much for him to hop sides." He sat down, hand against his forehead. "I had to warn you. I'm sure yours is on the way."
"I knew we shouldn't have trusted him," Anders said.
"He's the fucking Chief of Surgery, what should we have done?" Jowan said. "Exclude him and we both rot on the graveyard shift for another decade?"
"That sounds a lot better than this," Anders replied.
All three jumped to their feet as a car pulled into the driveway. "Hide," Maggie hissed to both of them. "I'll play dumb, better than letting them question you now." She sat quietly, waiting for the doorbell.
Bell.
Walk.
Breathe.
Plastering a vapid smile on her face she opened the front door. "Can I help you?"
"Is your husband at home, ma'am?" A man in a suit at the door. Black suit.
"Oh, no," she said, still grinning like an idiot. "He works very late. He's a surgeon," she said, sounding proud. Proud and brainless. Breathe, she reminded herself. Play dumb.
"That isn't his car?"
Fuck.
"It is," she admitted. "He takes turns driving with another of the doctors who live in the neighborhood." Did he buy it? Hm. Maybe.
"I suppose I'll have to leave this with you. Now, you make sure he gets it. It's very important."
"Of course," she said, still grinning. "Have a nice evening."
Watching through the peephole, an all clear wasn't sounded until the suited man had returned to his car and driven off.
Anders took the paper from her hands. "Well," he said, glancing at Jowan. "I suppose we can take the same flight."
Two weeks later Maggie sat, looking at the back of Anders' head from the other side of a wooden rail. He wore a new blue suit. Blue was nonthreatening. Her dress was nice, but not too nice. Nice enough to show she cared about her appearance, nice enough that no one would call it utilitarian or drab, but not so nice as to be ostentatious.
"Slide over."
She looked up. "Alistair, what in the hell are you doing here?"
He sat next to her. "What? You think I'll let you sit here alone?"
She bit her lip, looking down so her mouth was hidden. "You'll just get pulled down with us. What about your job?"
He shrugged. "I'm in the union. They can't just fire me out of hand." Leaning forward, he squeezed Anders' shoulder. Looking behind him, an expression of shock flashed across his face before it was replaced with a nervous but grateful smile.
The room was called to order. Squeezing Alistair's hand in fear, she listened to her husband confirm his name, birthdate, and occupation. Holding a breath, they all waited for the next question.
"Doctor, are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party of the United States?"