Work Text:
Opportunities
by Lucinda
He'd left LA for a while, during his medical vacation. His supervisor had suggested it, mumbling something about needing the time to relax, that the last few months had been full of considerable pressures.
Only his doctor had been willing to actually be blunt about it. "You've lost your hand. The benefit is that it was a clean incision, and you shouldn't have too many side complications with the bones or nerves, but it's gone. Take a bit of time off work, let your system get over the shock and you might want to take some time in private to start adjusting to not having it there anymore."
Lindsey had mumbled something, not feeling as if there had been anything fortunate about his situation. He'd had his hand cut of by Angel, all because his department head hadn't been willing to arrange sufficient security for their stupid ritual. Part of him wondered what in hell could have been so important to go through a ritual like that to get it, but another part didn't care. He'd lost his hand for that plan, he didn't want to know.
Slowly, he turned the glass of beer around on the bar. Everything took longer, assuming that it was even something that he could manage with only one hand. "This is miserable."
Glancing around, he felt somehow worse when he realized that there was a vast area of emptiness around him. Apparently nobody wanted to sit by a cripple.
"You look like you could use someone to listen." A woman's voice, with a faint British accent, upper class, educated and well traveled.
He didn't even look up from his beer. "I doubt that you'd want to hear it. That it would even make sense if I tried."
"Really?" There was a subtle rebuke in her voice. "You don't know enough about me to know what I would or wouldn't understand."
"Right." He looked up from the beer, blinking as he found himself facing an attractive and dignified red haired lady. Her hair had been twisted up, and she wore an outfit that he could only call elegant. "I'm Lindsey McDonald, and I'm a lawyer at Wolfram and Hart. Still care?"
"Wolfram and Hart?" There was a faint _expression of disdain. "I used to have some of them handle my American legal matters, but there was a change in management, and I had a few objections to their new staff. I decided to take my business elsewhere."
"Quite understandable, Ms... I didn't catch your name." Lindsey offered a weary smile. "At the moment, I'm less than thrilled with the management as well considering that it was a few of their decisions that resulted in my accident." He lifted his arm in explanation, the lack of hand quite apparent.
"Mina Harker." She had a small smile. "Why don't you walk with me, you can explain more about this. I hadn't been aware of any internal policies that would lead to the accidental maiming of their own employees."
For a moment, Lindsey wanted nothing more than to stay right where he was, attempting to drown his sorrows in bitter beer. Then sense reasserted itself. Wallow in self pity, or go walking with a beautiful woman? He stood up, and offered her his arm. "I can't think of anything better to do with my time."
With a smile, she tucked one hand over his arm, and they left the bar. Lindsey frowned slightly as he realized that her hand was somewhat cool. Granted, there were many humans with cold hands, and a great many nonhumans who weren't immediately dangerous, but it might be something to think about. "So, Ms. Harker, how long ago did you relocate your American accounts?"
"Perhaps twenty years, I think. I disliked the policies of Mr. Holland." She gave a small shrug, as if unconcerned. "I thought that he seemed more concerned with speed and profit than responsibility or integrity."
"I was involved in one of his projects." Lindsey growled. "I don't know what it was that he was so set on getting, but I lost my hand over it."
"You notice that he's never the one at risk himself." Her dry comment hinted at interesting stories.
"Yeah." He sighed, and glanced at her. "So, how long did you have your accounts at Wolfram and Hart?"
"Perhaps forty years, approximately. Someone I knew spoke highly of your country, and I decided to see if he was correct, or simply biased." She gave a small smile. "I don't know if he would have liked what the country or the world has become."
Lindsey blinked at that. She certainly didn't look that old, which meant that she couldn't be a normal human, even one with poor circulation resulting in cold hands. "Somedays I'm not too certain I like what sort of world this is."
"Mister McDonald, I have an offer for you." She stopped, turning to face him.
"I'm flattered." He tried to give her his best charming smile.
From the faint pinkish cast that crept onto her cheeks and the small smile, he must have succeeded. "I meant that I find myself in a situation where having a barrister on retainer might be very useful, and someone who already has experience with things that are a bit... extraordinary would be a benefit."
"Am I allowed to ask what sort of situation you mean?" He murmured, reaching over to touch her fingers lightly. "Or would I need to sign a non-disclosure agreement first?"
Chuckling, she shook her head. "I'm simply trying to recreate something similar to a group that I once participated in. Sadly, my original associates have passed away, but I'm reasonably certain that I can gather a group of equally talented and unique individuals, and find worthwhile things to occupy our time. One thing that I discovered the first time was that a talented barrister could be very useful, as could a trustworthy official well placed in the government. Not discovering any sufficiently trustworthy officials, I'm searching for a talented legal advisor. It would be a full time job, and I'm fairly certain that the hours would be irregular and the pay probably less that Wolfram and Hart could offer."
Lindsey chuckled as he considered her words. She had described her search as for a talented lawyer, not a trustworthy one. "You wouldn't be afraid of your lawyer causing more problems?"
Something dark and dangerous flickered across her eyes. "I assure you, I know how to remove problems. What I want is someone to help prevent some from ever cropping up."
He gave her a small nod, acknowledging the warning that neither of them felt any need to bluntly spell out. "When could I start, Ms. Harker?"
"Immediately." She smiled, and gestured towards a sleek, elegant car that had to date back almost to the turn of the century. "I can explain more at my current abode, if you'd accompany me?"
Lindsey smiled, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, while a new challenge ha just been tossed into his lap. "I'd be delighted."
end Opportunities.