I love fandom so much right now: DragonCon Thriller dancers.
Fringe prompt from![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abbylee: there is rarely enough Astrid. I'd love to see a snippet of her kicking ass or her discovering a walter-like habit/craving that she's picked up.
Astrid had planned to grow up to be Dana Scully. Well, Dana Scully crossed with Uhura, because Scully was a little rigid, and Astrid didn’t always want to be the straight-laced one. So it was almost ironic that she’d ended up doing near-Scully levels of caretaking, minus the skepticism. And the high heels. Astrid had always suspected that Scully’s high heels were the least realistic part of the show, and now she knew that she’d been right all along.
First thing in the morning, she did the rounds to make sure that nothing had exploded, leaked, or evolved sentience during the night. Then she picked up the phone and started to work.
Fifteen minutes and one terrified account supervisor later, she had a signoff for the latest ridiculous expense items. Some days she almost wished for an audit, just so she could show someone with appropriate clearance the kind of chaos her days usually entailed. Having a cow approved was one thing, but getting reimbursed for two bushels of zucchini and four different brands of lipstick, she felt, deserved some kind of award.
Then it was on to Harvard administration—what with the collapse of their little hedge fund, they were nickel-and-diming the Bureau more than usual these days, but Astrid was still pretty sure that she didn’t need to pay them for the cleaning that they specifically were not allowed to do in the lab insofar as they were not allowed to enter the lab. Sorting that one out took half an hour, and she ended up making a note to send the people in the maintenance office a basket of cookies, because bribery never hurt (and she did love the smell of snickerdoodles).
After that, she checked the computer logs, found a suspicious login attempt that she forwarded to security, and cancelled the three gaming site subscriptions that Walter had (accidentally, she was sure) signed up for on the Bureau’s account. Katamari Damacy looked interesting—no! She was not going down that road. She’d learned her lesson with Walter’s LPs.
She double-checked Olivia’s latest reports, fleshing out the scientific background as required. It wasn’t clear to her that anyone reading the reports had more than a college-level background, but it never hurt to explain to the best of their ability, plus if she managed to intimidate a midlevel bureacrat into approving more of their requests, all the better.
In the middle of recalculating the retrieved cortexiphan data, an alarm went off—not the oh-shit one, only the death-is-nigh one. Plastic shields slammed down all around her, isolating the various experimental areas, and Astrid hit “answer” on her phone while she was heading over to the one with the smoke coiled inside it. Yes, the automatic notification for the whole team of trouble in the lab led to some extra explanations. But given how many times they’d already been assaulted or otherwise interfered with, she was sticking with the protocol.
Olivia was easy to placate; a simple report and a confirmation that she was safe, while she made sure that none of the chemicals had escaped and turned on the blowers that would evacuate the area. Peter, when she switched over to his call, was harder to convince, and she didn’t try too hard to dissuade him from coming over. Peter was always calming. Walter—well, she wasn’t sure Walter even understood how to answer his cellphone. She’d explain why his second favorite flasks had melted next time he came in.
When Peter arrived, he shook his head at the still-gently-smoking area in the middle of the lab. It kind of looked like the aftermath of spontaneous human combusion, just a spiky black pattern in the middle of untouched surroundings. “I bet this isn’t what you thought you signed up for,” he said, smiling in that way of his that she only wished she could pull off--she practically swooned at it.
“I’m not so sure about that,” she said, grinning back (impossible not to). “I eat danger for breakfast. By which I mean that I eat food that Walter might have experimented on. Once you’ve done that, there’s no going back.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said, and then Olivia called with an urgent inquiry involving mutant killer trees, and they were off again.
Just another day at the office.
Fringe prompt from
abbylee: there is rarely enough Astrid. I'd love to see a snippet of her kicking ass or her discovering a walter-like habit/craving that she's picked up.Astrid had planned to grow up to be Dana Scully. Well, Dana Scully crossed with Uhura, because Scully was a little rigid, and Astrid didn’t always want to be the straight-laced one. So it was almost ironic that she’d ended up doing near-Scully levels of caretaking, minus the skepticism. And the high heels. Astrid had always suspected that Scully’s high heels were the least realistic part of the show, and now she knew that she’d been right all along.
First thing in the morning, she did the rounds to make sure that nothing had exploded, leaked, or evolved sentience during the night. Then she picked up the phone and started to work.
Fifteen minutes and one terrified account supervisor later, she had a signoff for the latest ridiculous expense items. Some days she almost wished for an audit, just so she could show someone with appropriate clearance the kind of chaos her days usually entailed. Having a cow approved was one thing, but getting reimbursed for two bushels of zucchini and four different brands of lipstick, she felt, deserved some kind of award.
Then it was on to Harvard administration—what with the collapse of their little hedge fund, they were nickel-and-diming the Bureau more than usual these days, but Astrid was still pretty sure that she didn’t need to pay them for the cleaning that they specifically were not allowed to do in the lab insofar as they were not allowed to enter the lab. Sorting that one out took half an hour, and she ended up making a note to send the people in the maintenance office a basket of cookies, because bribery never hurt (and she did love the smell of snickerdoodles).
After that, she checked the computer logs, found a suspicious login attempt that she forwarded to security, and cancelled the three gaming site subscriptions that Walter had (accidentally, she was sure) signed up for on the Bureau’s account. Katamari Damacy looked interesting—no! She was not going down that road. She’d learned her lesson with Walter’s LPs.
She double-checked Olivia’s latest reports, fleshing out the scientific background as required. It wasn’t clear to her that anyone reading the reports had more than a college-level background, but it never hurt to explain to the best of their ability, plus if she managed to intimidate a midlevel bureacrat into approving more of their requests, all the better.
In the middle of recalculating the retrieved cortexiphan data, an alarm went off—not the oh-shit one, only the death-is-nigh one. Plastic shields slammed down all around her, isolating the various experimental areas, and Astrid hit “answer” on her phone while she was heading over to the one with the smoke coiled inside it. Yes, the automatic notification for the whole team of trouble in the lab led to some extra explanations. But given how many times they’d already been assaulted or otherwise interfered with, she was sticking with the protocol.
Olivia was easy to placate; a simple report and a confirmation that she was safe, while she made sure that none of the chemicals had escaped and turned on the blowers that would evacuate the area. Peter, when she switched over to his call, was harder to convince, and she didn’t try too hard to dissuade him from coming over. Peter was always calming. Walter—well, she wasn’t sure Walter even understood how to answer his cellphone. She’d explain why his second favorite flasks had melted next time he came in.
When Peter arrived, he shook his head at the still-gently-smoking area in the middle of the lab. It kind of looked like the aftermath of spontaneous human combusion, just a spiky black pattern in the middle of untouched surroundings. “I bet this isn’t what you thought you signed up for,” he said, smiling in that way of his that she only wished she could pull off--she practically swooned at it.
“I’m not so sure about that,” she said, grinning back (impossible not to). “I eat danger for breakfast. By which I mean that I eat food that Walter might have experimented on. Once you’ve done that, there’s no going back.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said, and then Olivia called with an urgent inquiry involving mutant killer trees, and they were off again.
Just another day at the office.
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Thank you!
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I love Astrid actually getting to show how much of what she does is stuff that she's only capable of doing because of her high levels of awesome.
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