Foster v Lightcudder (Round 1)
Simply couldn't resist writing this once the idea had stuck in my brain!
I do not own these characters.
Paul Foster is immensely grateful for that fact.
He had had enough. This was the last straw. Absolutely the last straw. If she though he would carry on like this then she was sadly mistaken. It was about time someone told her that. And it looked as if that someone was going to have to be him.
Shit.
He didn’t bother knocking on the door. Just opened it and walked in, closing it firmly behind him before crossing over to where she was sitting at her desk.
She looked up, puzzled at the unexpected arrival.
He stood there, watching her, his expression unfathomable. Not saying anything.
She put her pen down, and looked up.
‘?’ her eyebrows said it all.
He leaned on the desk, his hands nearly touching hers. ‘It stops now. Right now. Do you understand?’ his voice was quiet, but she could hear the underlying threat behind the words.
‘What do you mean?’ she tried to act puzzled, as if she was unaware what he was talking about.
‘Don’t give me that, Lightcudder. You know perfectly well what I am talking about. That story you have written. You know, the one after Valentine’s Kiss. Verified, I think you’ve called it. Well you can just delete the whole damn thing. I managed to access your computer yesterday; there are some advantages to being one of SHADO’s senior staff. And I found it.’
There was very little response to that. ‘Oh,’ was all she could think of to say.
‘Don’t “Oh” me,’ he growled, ‘just delete the damned story. I’d have done it myself, but the Commander refuses to let me touch your work. Says you and he have an agreement and no-one is allowed to mess with you.’
She grinned at him, thrilled that her lead character would stand up for her against all others, even someone in his own staff.
‘If the Commander won’t let you delete my story, what makes you think I would do it for you?’ she answered scornfully.
‘You fanfiction writers make me sick. Messing about with people’s lives. I wake up in the morning and I never know what is going to happen to me, where I am going to be sent, or who I am going to meet. And that story is the last straw. Change it or else.......’ the threat in his voice was clear.
‘Or what, Colonel Foster?’ Ed Straker’s laconic drawl interrupted the brash young man.
Foster took a step back, abashed at being discovered threatening the woman.
‘I asked you Colonel. Would you like to explain to me what you are doing here? Lightcudder is under my personal protection. Threatening her will do your career prospects with this organisation no good at all. Do I make myself clear?’
Foster growled a surly affirmative, before slinking from the room, head down. The SHADO Commander smiled thoughtfully.
‘So, LtCdr, what do you intend doing about Foster?’ he asked her in his quiet authoritative voice.
She smiled back at him, unwilling to make demands of this man who was so important to her. ‘I thought I would ask your advice,’ she said tentatively, hoping that her punctuation skills were accurate enough this time.
Straker sat down opposite her, in the easy chair, steepling his fingers and looking at her over the arched digits. ‘My advice? That’s a first for you isn’t it’ he joked, and smiled reassuringly. ‘My advice would be to do as you have always done. That is, follow your instincts. Paul Foster will get over it soon enough. Send him to Moonbase, or Tasmania if necessary, but remember he is quite an integral part of the organisation. We do really need him in SHADO. Even if it’s just to provide some light relief when stories get too serious.’ He nodded to her, a salutation of sorts, one commander to another, and then stood and left the room.
She sighed. It always seemed so empty after he had visited her. His presence had filled the room and he took something of her away with him every time he went. She would not get any writing done now, not until she had filled that void he had left in her heart.
She opened the top drawer of her desk, the one her mother had owned, the one that she now used for all her writing and art work. There. A clean sheet of white cartridge paper. And the graphite sticks.
Time to draw. He might not be with her in person, but she could still have him close to her, as close as this paper.
And as for Paul Foster.... well, she had done some pretty mean things to Alan Tracy recently, perhaps it was now time for Mr Paul Foster to get his comeuppance. She grinned and started writing.......
LtCdr
I do not own these characters.
Paul Foster is immensely grateful for that fact.
He had had enough. This was the last straw. Absolutely the last straw. If she though he would carry on like this then she was sadly mistaken. It was about time someone told her that. And it looked as if that someone was going to have to be him.
Shit.
He didn’t bother knocking on the door. Just opened it and walked in, closing it firmly behind him before crossing over to where she was sitting at her desk.
She looked up, puzzled at the unexpected arrival.
He stood there, watching her, his expression unfathomable. Not saying anything.
She put her pen down, and looked up.
‘?’ her eyebrows said it all.
He leaned on the desk, his hands nearly touching hers. ‘It stops now. Right now. Do you understand?’ his voice was quiet, but she could hear the underlying threat behind the words.
‘What do you mean?’ she tried to act puzzled, as if she was unaware what he was talking about.
‘Don’t give me that, Lightcudder. You know perfectly well what I am talking about. That story you have written. You know, the one after Valentine’s Kiss. Verified, I think you’ve called it. Well you can just delete the whole damn thing. I managed to access your computer yesterday; there are some advantages to being one of SHADO’s senior staff. And I found it.’
There was very little response to that. ‘Oh,’ was all she could think of to say.
‘Don’t “Oh” me,’ he growled, ‘just delete the damned story. I’d have done it myself, but the Commander refuses to let me touch your work. Says you and he have an agreement and no-one is allowed to mess with you.’
She grinned at him, thrilled that her lead character would stand up for her against all others, even someone in his own staff.
‘If the Commander won’t let you delete my story, what makes you think I would do it for you?’ she answered scornfully.
‘You fanfiction writers make me sick. Messing about with people’s lives. I wake up in the morning and I never know what is going to happen to me, where I am going to be sent, or who I am going to meet. And that story is the last straw. Change it or else.......’ the threat in his voice was clear.
‘Or what, Colonel Foster?’ Ed Straker’s laconic drawl interrupted the brash young man.
Foster took a step back, abashed at being discovered threatening the woman.
‘I asked you Colonel. Would you like to explain to me what you are doing here? Lightcudder is under my personal protection. Threatening her will do your career prospects with this organisation no good at all. Do I make myself clear?’
Foster growled a surly affirmative, before slinking from the room, head down. The SHADO Commander smiled thoughtfully.
‘So, LtCdr, what do you intend doing about Foster?’ he asked her in his quiet authoritative voice.
She smiled back at him, unwilling to make demands of this man who was so important to her. ‘I thought I would ask your advice,’ she said tentatively, hoping that her punctuation skills were accurate enough this time.
Straker sat down opposite her, in the easy chair, steepling his fingers and looking at her over the arched digits. ‘My advice? That’s a first for you isn’t it’ he joked, and smiled reassuringly. ‘My advice would be to do as you have always done. That is, follow your instincts. Paul Foster will get over it soon enough. Send him to Moonbase, or Tasmania if necessary, but remember he is quite an integral part of the organisation. We do really need him in SHADO. Even if it’s just to provide some light relief when stories get too serious.’ He nodded to her, a salutation of sorts, one commander to another, and then stood and left the room.
She sighed. It always seemed so empty after he had visited her. His presence had filled the room and he took something of her away with him every time he went. She would not get any writing done now, not until she had filled that void he had left in her heart.
She opened the top drawer of her desk, the one her mother had owned, the one that she now used for all her writing and art work. There. A clean sheet of white cartridge paper. And the graphite sticks.
Time to draw. He might not be with her in person, but she could still have him close to her, as close as this paper.
And as for Paul Foster.... well, she had done some pretty mean things to Alan Tracy recently, perhaps it was now time for Mr Paul Foster to get his comeuppance. She grinned and started writing.......
LtCdr