let me hear your voice tonight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alexseanchai) wrote2009-10-22 11:41 pm
alexseanchai) wrote2009-10-22 11:41 pm
Entry tags:
SPN / K-Ville: Inside Job
So I have recently discovered another one of those fabulous series that Fox canceled because Fox is heavy on morons. It's a police procedural (apparently that genre's my new shiny, what with this and NCIS and Bones and Castle and Criminal Minds) set in New Orleans a couple years after Katrina, ten episodes aired that didn't generate high enough ratings for Fox to bring it back after the writers' strike, and one of the episodes guest-stars Mark Pellegrino. Combine that with tonight's rerun of "Sympathy for the Devil", and, well...
Title: "Inside Job"
Rating: PG-13 except for that pesky little F-word.
Summary: Spoilers for Supernatural 5x01 "Sympathy for the Devil" and K-Ville 1x01 "Pilot" and 1x06 "AKA" (on Hulu, I'll wait; if you're outside the US, sorry, I don't know where else to find it). Sarah was supposed to be a means to an end for Quentin, but she gets inside his defenses and the 'Nick' mask he wears for her becomes more real than reality—and then one of his old rivals from New Orleans catches up to him.
Word Count: 500
Quentin's plan is to get to Mexico with as much money as he can carry. He can only go so long without a shot of bourbon, though, and he is sure as fuck not planning on the brunette bombshell in a bar in Corpus Christi. She's a bank manager in Delaware spending a few weeks' vacation helping her sister through a divorce, she has a soft spot for Nick the laid-off paper-shuffler she thinks she met, and—it doesn't pay to be dishonest with himself—Quentin's dick has a serious thing for her.
When Sarah says that she's got an in with human resources at her branch, that teller positions come open all the time, that if he can prove he can do the job—well. It's a bank, and Quentin's been on his own since he left New Orleans. Inside jobs are always best. Mexico can wait.
Nick, rather to Quentin's surprise, isn't half bad at this 'staying on the right side of the law' deal. It occurs to him on a daily basis that anytime in the previous few days would have been ideal to grab the cash and get out, but somehow today's never a good time—yesterday would have been, but not today—not today—
Then it's six months later and Sarah's pregnant.
That's when Nick starts to realize Quentin died in Texas.
Sarah looks like an angel on her wedding day. A heavily-pregnant angel, true, but seriously all she needs are the big white wings and the harp. Not even that, really—she's why he doesn't need to be afraid. Not of being caught, not of being betrayed, not of being alone. (After all, if she's willing to shackle her intelligent, beautiful, steady-upper-middle-class-employed self to him of all people—hell, she asked him to marry her, joking about being led around by her erogenous zones all the while—he hardly needs to worry about her leaving him, does he?) Not of anything.
She's his everything.
He might just owe Trevor a thank-you.
Nick forgets, when Ethan is born, that he was ever Quentin.
Two months after that, Nick comes home from his evening shift to find Sarah and Ethan still and bloody in their beds. Quentin coolly notes stylistic markers in the MO (he thought he'd left gang rivalries when he left Louisiana), evaluates his chances of catching the sons of bitches on his own (there are enough airports within a couple hours' drive that they're effectively halfway to New Orleans already), snaps pictures with his cameraphone (two days later, the local cops will get a call regarding an anonymous tip to Trevor Cobb, NOPD, who Quentin knows will follow this up out of honor and nobility if not from loyalty); Nick calls 911 in a panic.
Sarah shows up a month later, and she's not Sarah but she is an angel—maybe it really is just too much bourbon, maybe she's lying through her pretty teeth, but then again, maybe she's telling the truth. And if she is, well, it's a better way to make the sons of bitches pay than trusting Trevor is.
He tells himself that, but—it doesn't pay to be dishonest with himself—she had him from the moment she arrived wearing Sarah's face. Sarah's inside all his defenses, after all.
Inside jobs are always best.
Title: "Inside Job"
Rating: PG-13 except for that pesky little F-word.
Summary: Spoilers for Supernatural 5x01 "Sympathy for the Devil" and K-Ville 1x01 "Pilot" and 1x06 "AKA" (on Hulu, I'll wait; if you're outside the US, sorry, I don't know where else to find it). Sarah was supposed to be a means to an end for Quentin, but she gets inside his defenses and the 'Nick' mask he wears for her becomes more real than reality—and then one of his old rivals from New Orleans catches up to him.
Word Count: 500
Quentin's plan is to get to Mexico with as much money as he can carry. He can only go so long without a shot of bourbon, though, and he is sure as fuck not planning on the brunette bombshell in a bar in Corpus Christi. She's a bank manager in Delaware spending a few weeks' vacation helping her sister through a divorce, she has a soft spot for Nick the laid-off paper-shuffler she thinks she met, and—it doesn't pay to be dishonest with himself—Quentin's dick has a serious thing for her.
When Sarah says that she's got an in with human resources at her branch, that teller positions come open all the time, that if he can prove he can do the job—well. It's a bank, and Quentin's been on his own since he left New Orleans. Inside jobs are always best. Mexico can wait.
Nick, rather to Quentin's surprise, isn't half bad at this 'staying on the right side of the law' deal. It occurs to him on a daily basis that anytime in the previous few days would have been ideal to grab the cash and get out, but somehow today's never a good time—yesterday would have been, but not today—not today—
Then it's six months later and Sarah's pregnant.
That's when Nick starts to realize Quentin died in Texas.
Sarah looks like an angel on her wedding day. A heavily-pregnant angel, true, but seriously all she needs are the big white wings and the harp. Not even that, really—she's why he doesn't need to be afraid. Not of being caught, not of being betrayed, not of being alone. (After all, if she's willing to shackle her intelligent, beautiful, steady-upper-middle-class-employed self to him of all people—hell, she asked him to marry her, joking about being led around by her erogenous zones all the while—he hardly needs to worry about her leaving him, does he?) Not of anything.
She's his everything.
He might just owe Trevor a thank-you.
Nick forgets, when Ethan is born, that he was ever Quentin.
Two months after that, Nick comes home from his evening shift to find Sarah and Ethan still and bloody in their beds. Quentin coolly notes stylistic markers in the MO (he thought he'd left gang rivalries when he left Louisiana), evaluates his chances of catching the sons of bitches on his own (there are enough airports within a couple hours' drive that they're effectively halfway to New Orleans already), snaps pictures with his cameraphone (two days later, the local cops will get a call regarding an anonymous tip to Trevor Cobb, NOPD, who Quentin knows will follow this up out of honor and nobility if not from loyalty); Nick calls 911 in a panic.
Sarah shows up a month later, and she's not Sarah but she is an angel—maybe it really is just too much bourbon, maybe she's lying through her pretty teeth, but then again, maybe she's telling the truth. And if she is, well, it's a better way to make the sons of bitches pay than trusting Trevor is.
He tells himself that, but—it doesn't pay to be dishonest with himself—she had him from the moment she arrived wearing Sarah's face. Sarah's inside all his defenses, after all.
Inside jobs are always best.