Title : The Coldest of Cold Shoulders
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Stephen(/Ryan), Nick, Abby. Connor, Jenny. Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : No matter what he does, Stephen still gets the cold shoulder from the team. Maybe some rifts really are too deep to heal.
A/N : Written for Halloween.
As he did every morning, Stephen prepared himself for the blank looks he would receive when he walked into the ARC. He should be used to it by now, but it still got to him.
The team had every right to be angry, and even though he’d done his best to make amends, it looked like no one was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. There were times when he wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed in the morning, but if didn’t, there wasn’t much left of his life to fall back on. He’d never found it easy to make friends. Helen had effectively isolated him from anyone at the CMU, and even his friendship with Nick had been built on sand, not rock, as Helen’s vengeful little bombshell had proved.
Stephen’s brief hope that Nick would have listened to his side of the story and accepted his apology was soon dashed. Nick wasn’t someone who found forgiving and forgetting easy, and it was clear that he’d been hurt as deeply by the fact that Stephen had kept a secret from him for the past eight years as he was by the fact that Stephen had slept with his wife. Nick had made it all too plain that Stephen only remained on the team under sufferance because they were too short-handed to lose anyone else, but that was as far as it went.
Abby had followed Nick’s lead, possibly still stinging from Stephen’s clumsy efforts to prevent her getting the wrong idea about their friendship. He’d been stupid, he knew that, but since Helen, he’d felt more at ease in the company of men, and dating a colleague had been the last thing on his mind. Inventing a girlfriend had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Abby had seen through that for the sham it was, and that had made things worse between them. Then he’d got together with Ryan, and the resolution not to date anyone on the anomaly project had been consigned to the bonfire of good intentions, the flames of which Stephen seemed to find all too easy to fan. Ryan’s death had hit him with the force of a ten-ton truck, and even Helen’s spiteful revelation had paled into insignificance beside the pain of losing a man he was starting to think he’d very much like to spend the rest of his life with.
In the aftermath of Helen’s bombshell, Nick had done his usual trick of throwing himself into his work. He’d been just the same when Helen had disappeared, but this time there was no one to keep a lid on any of his excesses. Lester had feigned indifference and Jenny Lewis had made it clear she’d been hired to deal with the press, not the team’s internal difficulties. Only Connor had tried to play the peacemaker, and Stephen would always be grateful to him for that.
But now, even Connor was giving him the cold shoulder, and that really hurt. The once easy-going student now kept himself to himself, sitting for hours in front of the ADD, listening to his iPod. Stephen had tried being friendly, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall.
This morning, the first person he passed on his way through the cavernous internal car park was Abby. He did what he always did and smiled at her. She did what she always did and looked straight through him. Only the mammoth acknowledged his presence, trumpeting loudly and shaking its large ears. Stephen raised a hand in greeting. The enormous creature stamped its feet on the concrete floor and trumpeted again.
Drawing in a deep breath, Stephen straightened his shoulders, plastered a fake smile on his face and stepped into the atrium, wondering if he might stand a better chance of attracting people’s attention if he stripped off and streaked through the building to his office. That might even cause the security team to finally crack a smile in his direction. The bunch of miserable buggers they’d been saddled with as back-up since Ryan’s lads had got pulled away onto another job had zero sense of humour and had monopolised the breakroom from the day they’d arrived. The ARC probably spent more on teabags now than it did on research. Stephen was not impressed by them, and didn’t think they’d could find their own cocks with a torch and a roadmap but nobody was interested in his opinion.
No matter what Stephen did, no matter how many times he did his job and saved lives, nothing seemed to make a difference. Last week he’d managed to lead an angry smilodon back through an anomaly by goading it into making a grab for him then running like hell into the middle of the anomaly. He thrown himself back through just before it closed. Nick’s report hadn’t even bothered to mention the part he’d played in the creature’s successful repatriation.
“Hi, Connor.” Fresh from Abby’s latest snub, Stephen allowed himself a brief flare of hope that today might be the day Connor flashed his trademark grin again, but the lad’s hands – encased as ever in black, fingerless gloves – just continued to dance over the keyboard as he hummed something that sounded suspiciously like a Spice Girls hit. His taste in music was improving, if nothing else. Stephen had taken a lot of ribbing over his liking for the Spice Girls but now, even some piss-taking would be a welcome diversion.
Before he had chance to steel himself to face Nick, the noise of the ADD blared out through the ARC and then there was no more time to feel sorry for himself. He legged it to the vehicles with the others and they were soon driving at full-tilt down the motorway to a village in Surrey that was currently playing host to a small herd of triceratops, determined to strip it of its Britain in Bloom title.
Stephen had told the team until he was blue in the mouth that veggie didn’t equal harmless, but they all seemed determined to ignore the fact that they were dealing with something that weighed as much as car and had three long, sharp horns more than capable of being driven at speed through the doors of any of the ARC vehicles.
Security set up a perimeter while Jenny handled the evacuation of the village green. This one was going to take all her ingenuity to sweep under the carpet, but if anyone could keep a lid on the press, it was her. Abby was carrying a tranquiliser rifle almost as tall as her and busily telling the men in black not to get trigger-happy. Nick and Connor were geeking out over the sight of a herd of the world’s most iconic dinosaurs munching their way through every tub of flowers that the village had to offer, and judging by the array of colour everywhere, that was quite a few.
The anomaly was on the edge of the duck pond, and for some reason, the triceratops were surprisingly unwilling to get their feet wet a second time, especially not when there were so many munchables still left.
Connor, talking ten to the dozen despite the fact that no one was listening, was trying to get as many photos as he could while Abby and Nick were instructing security to start laying a trail of flowers back to the anomaly. It was all going surprisingly well for a change, but then a large ginger cat shot out of one of the gardens, right under the beak-like nose of the youngest member of the herd. The baby triceratops jumped sideways and let out a high-pitched squeal. The nearest adult let rip with a loud bellow, lowered its head and darted forwards, heading straight for Connor who was leaning against the front of Nick’s Hilux.
Abby swung the dart rifle up to her shoulder and fired, hitting the creature in the rump, but she had no hope of even slowing it down, not quickly enough. The security team were strung out around the village, most of them with flower pots in their hands rather than rifles. By the time they’d brought their weapons into play, it would be too late.
Without even stopping to think, Stephen dashed in front of Connor, his arms outstretched, yelling as loudly as he could. Instead of dropping to the ground and crawling away under the truck, Connor froze like a rabbit in the headlights while the huge creature pounded towards him, head down.
Stephen yelled again, and jumped towards the triceratops, trying to make himself as threatening as possible. He’d heard of someone who’d managed to stop a charging bull this way, but he had a nasty feeling the article he’d been reading had been part of a ‘things not to do when threatened by an animal’ story, rather than a guide to good practice.
At the last moment, when he could practically feel the hot breath on his face, the triceratops veered to one side, gouging a deep furrow across the wing of the Hilux, making a sound like a thousand fingernails scraping down a blackboard in unison. Too late, Connor finally did the sensible thing and dropped to the ground, taking refuge under the truck.
Stephen sank to his knees, breathing heavily.
The triceratops, clearly deciding that there were more important things in life than flowers, let out another stentorian bellow and thundered back through the anomaly, with its calf and the rest of the herd in hot pursuit.
On a nearby wall, the cause of commotion tuck one hind leg out and started to lick its arse.
Nick came running over to help Connor to his feet, but the hoped-for pat on the shoulder for Stephen never came.
It looked like Stephen was going to have to accept that some rifts were simply too deep to be healed.
*****
Lester heard Nick’s report in silence, but at the moment when Stephen’s former friend and mentor had described how the female triceratops had turned aside, Lester’s eyes had flicked over to where Stephen was currently lounging, ignored, against the wall by the door, and Stephen thought he detected the merest hint of sympathy.
“My, oh my, you do all seem to lead charmed lives these days.”
The team stared back at him. Lester’s brand of sarcasm only brought out the worst in people, making everyone feel like they’d just been hauled up in front of the headmaster, which was no doubt exactly the effect he was aiming for.
“I take it none of you believe in guardian angels, then?” Lester waved a dismissive hand. “No, don’t bother to reply. That was a rhetorical question. I know you were all brought up not to speak ill of the dead, but I don’t think your darling grandmothers were expecting you to take things to the extreme of not talking about the dead at all.”
Cold fingers danced up and down Stephen’s spine. His grandmother would have said a goose had just walked over his grave.
“Stephen Hart died saving your life, Cutter. The least you can do is show some gratitude.”
Nick stared at Lester in amazement.
Stephen did the same.
“What’s Stephen got to do with this?” Nick demanded.
“Ever since he died, the lot of you have been walking around in a daze. You won’t talk about him. You barely even talk to each other. Connor buries himself in computers, listening to Stephen’s iPod. Abby mucks out the mammoth so often the poor creature doesn’t get a minute to himself and you, Professor? You just keep your head very firmly up your own backside. And I’m as at fault as the rest of you for letting this continue. But it stops here, do you all understand me?”
Eyes widened, but no one spoke.
Stephen felt like someone had just torn his heart out and stamped on it. He was freezing cold yet sweating at the same time. It was all starting to fall into place now. The blank looks. The cold shoulders he’d been getting. The fact that there were large gaps in his memory…
“Yes, Stephen Hart made some stupid decisions,” Lester declared, staring at a point just to Stephen’s left, as though he knew vaguely where he might be but wasn’t quite sure. “First and foremost, he had an affair with your bitch of a wife, Cutter. But he was a student and she was a member of staff. It doesn’t take a half-wit to work out who was most at fault there, does it? And you’re not a half-wit, but you are a fucking stubborn Scotsman with more pride than the Coldstream Guards.”
While Nick shuffled his feet like an undergraduate a week late with an essay, Lester’s eyes turned to Abby. “And you followed his lead, Miss Maitland. I know you have issues when it comes to betrayal, but it’s time to stop wallowing in guilt. Yes, you gave Stephen the cold-shoulder while he was alive, but he wouldn’t want you carrying around a sack full of regrets to go with your sacks full of mammoth dung.”
Connor ducked his head awkwardly, clearly hoping to avoid Lester’s attention, but the movement had exactly the opposite effect. “Mr Temple, you did your best, but neither Professor Cutter nor Miss Maitland wanted to listen. However, excessive indulgence in the Spice Girls isn’t healthy. It’s time to re-join the rest of the world. Do I make myself clear?” The question wasn’t only addressed to Connor.
When only silence greeted his words, Lester repeated, “Have I made myself clear? It’s time to forgive past transgressions and move on. I have absolutely no intention of conducting group therapy sessions like this on a regular basis. So I’ll ask you all again – in case none of you heard me the first time – and this time I’ll expect a verbal response…. Have I made myself clear?”
An unwilling smile twitched at the corners of Nick’s lips, the first Stephen had seen on his face for weeks. “Aye, I think you’ve made yourself clear. And, for what it’s worth, you’re right. Stephen meant more to me than Helen ever did. If he was here now, I’d apologise.”
It was Lester’s turn to smile. The expression wouldn’t have looked out of place on a timber wolf. “That’s a good start, Professor.”
“I would, too,” Abby said, in a small voice.
Connor’s smile was wan, and Stephen could see the tears in his eyes as his fingers held hard to the iPod in his pocket. He managed a jerky nod.
Lester clapped his hands together hard and made them all jump. “Excellent. Now those reports won’t write themselves…”
Duly dismissed, the three of them filed out, and Stephen could see that Connor wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes.
“Close the door behind you!” Lester called.
The fact that Nick complied without slamming it surprised both of them, and probably surprised him, too.
Lester let out a pent-up breath and leaned back in his chair. “Well, that went better than expected,” he said softly.
“And about bloody time,” another voice cut in. “He should have done that weeks ago.”
Lester gave no sign of having heard anyone speak.
Stephen turned his head, a sudden wild hope flaring inside him.
Tom Ryan stood next to him, dressed casually in civvies, wearing his snuggly jacket, despite the warmth of Lester’s office.
“Tom?”
Ryan smiled, and held out his hand.
Stephen took it.
*****
Lester poured himself a large glass of the exceedingly good cognac he kept in his desk drawer for emergencies and lifted it up in a toast.
“You lived good lives, gentlemen. I hope you now get to live equally good deaths.”
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Stephen(/Ryan), Nick, Abby. Connor, Jenny. Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : No matter what he does, Stephen still gets the cold shoulder from the team. Maybe some rifts really are too deep to heal.
A/N : Written for Halloween.
As he did every morning, Stephen prepared himself for the blank looks he would receive when he walked into the ARC. He should be used to it by now, but it still got to him.
The team had every right to be angry, and even though he’d done his best to make amends, it looked like no one was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. There were times when he wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed in the morning, but if didn’t, there wasn’t much left of his life to fall back on. He’d never found it easy to make friends. Helen had effectively isolated him from anyone at the CMU, and even his friendship with Nick had been built on sand, not rock, as Helen’s vengeful little bombshell had proved.
Stephen’s brief hope that Nick would have listened to his side of the story and accepted his apology was soon dashed. Nick wasn’t someone who found forgiving and forgetting easy, and it was clear that he’d been hurt as deeply by the fact that Stephen had kept a secret from him for the past eight years as he was by the fact that Stephen had slept with his wife. Nick had made it all too plain that Stephen only remained on the team under sufferance because they were too short-handed to lose anyone else, but that was as far as it went.
Abby had followed Nick’s lead, possibly still stinging from Stephen’s clumsy efforts to prevent her getting the wrong idea about their friendship. He’d been stupid, he knew that, but since Helen, he’d felt more at ease in the company of men, and dating a colleague had been the last thing on his mind. Inventing a girlfriend had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Abby had seen through that for the sham it was, and that had made things worse between them. Then he’d got together with Ryan, and the resolution not to date anyone on the anomaly project had been consigned to the bonfire of good intentions, the flames of which Stephen seemed to find all too easy to fan. Ryan’s death had hit him with the force of a ten-ton truck, and even Helen’s spiteful revelation had paled into insignificance beside the pain of losing a man he was starting to think he’d very much like to spend the rest of his life with.
In the aftermath of Helen’s bombshell, Nick had done his usual trick of throwing himself into his work. He’d been just the same when Helen had disappeared, but this time there was no one to keep a lid on any of his excesses. Lester had feigned indifference and Jenny Lewis had made it clear she’d been hired to deal with the press, not the team’s internal difficulties. Only Connor had tried to play the peacemaker, and Stephen would always be grateful to him for that.
But now, even Connor was giving him the cold shoulder, and that really hurt. The once easy-going student now kept himself to himself, sitting for hours in front of the ADD, listening to his iPod. Stephen had tried being friendly, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall.
This morning, the first person he passed on his way through the cavernous internal car park was Abby. He did what he always did and smiled at her. She did what she always did and looked straight through him. Only the mammoth acknowledged his presence, trumpeting loudly and shaking its large ears. Stephen raised a hand in greeting. The enormous creature stamped its feet on the concrete floor and trumpeted again.
Drawing in a deep breath, Stephen straightened his shoulders, plastered a fake smile on his face and stepped into the atrium, wondering if he might stand a better chance of attracting people’s attention if he stripped off and streaked through the building to his office. That might even cause the security team to finally crack a smile in his direction. The bunch of miserable buggers they’d been saddled with as back-up since Ryan’s lads had got pulled away onto another job had zero sense of humour and had monopolised the breakroom from the day they’d arrived. The ARC probably spent more on teabags now than it did on research. Stephen was not impressed by them, and didn’t think they’d could find their own cocks with a torch and a roadmap but nobody was interested in his opinion.
No matter what Stephen did, no matter how many times he did his job and saved lives, nothing seemed to make a difference. Last week he’d managed to lead an angry smilodon back through an anomaly by goading it into making a grab for him then running like hell into the middle of the anomaly. He thrown himself back through just before it closed. Nick’s report hadn’t even bothered to mention the part he’d played in the creature’s successful repatriation.
“Hi, Connor.” Fresh from Abby’s latest snub, Stephen allowed himself a brief flare of hope that today might be the day Connor flashed his trademark grin again, but the lad’s hands – encased as ever in black, fingerless gloves – just continued to dance over the keyboard as he hummed something that sounded suspiciously like a Spice Girls hit. His taste in music was improving, if nothing else. Stephen had taken a lot of ribbing over his liking for the Spice Girls but now, even some piss-taking would be a welcome diversion.
Before he had chance to steel himself to face Nick, the noise of the ADD blared out through the ARC and then there was no more time to feel sorry for himself. He legged it to the vehicles with the others and they were soon driving at full-tilt down the motorway to a village in Surrey that was currently playing host to a small herd of triceratops, determined to strip it of its Britain in Bloom title.
Stephen had told the team until he was blue in the mouth that veggie didn’t equal harmless, but they all seemed determined to ignore the fact that they were dealing with something that weighed as much as car and had three long, sharp horns more than capable of being driven at speed through the doors of any of the ARC vehicles.
Security set up a perimeter while Jenny handled the evacuation of the village green. This one was going to take all her ingenuity to sweep under the carpet, but if anyone could keep a lid on the press, it was her. Abby was carrying a tranquiliser rifle almost as tall as her and busily telling the men in black not to get trigger-happy. Nick and Connor were geeking out over the sight of a herd of the world’s most iconic dinosaurs munching their way through every tub of flowers that the village had to offer, and judging by the array of colour everywhere, that was quite a few.
The anomaly was on the edge of the duck pond, and for some reason, the triceratops were surprisingly unwilling to get their feet wet a second time, especially not when there were so many munchables still left.
Connor, talking ten to the dozen despite the fact that no one was listening, was trying to get as many photos as he could while Abby and Nick were instructing security to start laying a trail of flowers back to the anomaly. It was all going surprisingly well for a change, but then a large ginger cat shot out of one of the gardens, right under the beak-like nose of the youngest member of the herd. The baby triceratops jumped sideways and let out a high-pitched squeal. The nearest adult let rip with a loud bellow, lowered its head and darted forwards, heading straight for Connor who was leaning against the front of Nick’s Hilux.
Abby swung the dart rifle up to her shoulder and fired, hitting the creature in the rump, but she had no hope of even slowing it down, not quickly enough. The security team were strung out around the village, most of them with flower pots in their hands rather than rifles. By the time they’d brought their weapons into play, it would be too late.
Without even stopping to think, Stephen dashed in front of Connor, his arms outstretched, yelling as loudly as he could. Instead of dropping to the ground and crawling away under the truck, Connor froze like a rabbit in the headlights while the huge creature pounded towards him, head down.
Stephen yelled again, and jumped towards the triceratops, trying to make himself as threatening as possible. He’d heard of someone who’d managed to stop a charging bull this way, but he had a nasty feeling the article he’d been reading had been part of a ‘things not to do when threatened by an animal’ story, rather than a guide to good practice.
At the last moment, when he could practically feel the hot breath on his face, the triceratops veered to one side, gouging a deep furrow across the wing of the Hilux, making a sound like a thousand fingernails scraping down a blackboard in unison. Too late, Connor finally did the sensible thing and dropped to the ground, taking refuge under the truck.
Stephen sank to his knees, breathing heavily.
The triceratops, clearly deciding that there were more important things in life than flowers, let out another stentorian bellow and thundered back through the anomaly, with its calf and the rest of the herd in hot pursuit.
On a nearby wall, the cause of commotion tuck one hind leg out and started to lick its arse.
Nick came running over to help Connor to his feet, but the hoped-for pat on the shoulder for Stephen never came.
It looked like Stephen was going to have to accept that some rifts were simply too deep to be healed.
*****
Lester heard Nick’s report in silence, but at the moment when Stephen’s former friend and mentor had described how the female triceratops had turned aside, Lester’s eyes had flicked over to where Stephen was currently lounging, ignored, against the wall by the door, and Stephen thought he detected the merest hint of sympathy.
“My, oh my, you do all seem to lead charmed lives these days.”
The team stared back at him. Lester’s brand of sarcasm only brought out the worst in people, making everyone feel like they’d just been hauled up in front of the headmaster, which was no doubt exactly the effect he was aiming for.
“I take it none of you believe in guardian angels, then?” Lester waved a dismissive hand. “No, don’t bother to reply. That was a rhetorical question. I know you were all brought up not to speak ill of the dead, but I don’t think your darling grandmothers were expecting you to take things to the extreme of not talking about the dead at all.”
Cold fingers danced up and down Stephen’s spine. His grandmother would have said a goose had just walked over his grave.
“Stephen Hart died saving your life, Cutter. The least you can do is show some gratitude.”
Nick stared at Lester in amazement.
Stephen did the same.
“What’s Stephen got to do with this?” Nick demanded.
“Ever since he died, the lot of you have been walking around in a daze. You won’t talk about him. You barely even talk to each other. Connor buries himself in computers, listening to Stephen’s iPod. Abby mucks out the mammoth so often the poor creature doesn’t get a minute to himself and you, Professor? You just keep your head very firmly up your own backside. And I’m as at fault as the rest of you for letting this continue. But it stops here, do you all understand me?”
Eyes widened, but no one spoke.
Stephen felt like someone had just torn his heart out and stamped on it. He was freezing cold yet sweating at the same time. It was all starting to fall into place now. The blank looks. The cold shoulders he’d been getting. The fact that there were large gaps in his memory…
“Yes, Stephen Hart made some stupid decisions,” Lester declared, staring at a point just to Stephen’s left, as though he knew vaguely where he might be but wasn’t quite sure. “First and foremost, he had an affair with your bitch of a wife, Cutter. But he was a student and she was a member of staff. It doesn’t take a half-wit to work out who was most at fault there, does it? And you’re not a half-wit, but you are a fucking stubborn Scotsman with more pride than the Coldstream Guards.”
While Nick shuffled his feet like an undergraduate a week late with an essay, Lester’s eyes turned to Abby. “And you followed his lead, Miss Maitland. I know you have issues when it comes to betrayal, but it’s time to stop wallowing in guilt. Yes, you gave Stephen the cold-shoulder while he was alive, but he wouldn’t want you carrying around a sack full of regrets to go with your sacks full of mammoth dung.”
Connor ducked his head awkwardly, clearly hoping to avoid Lester’s attention, but the movement had exactly the opposite effect. “Mr Temple, you did your best, but neither Professor Cutter nor Miss Maitland wanted to listen. However, excessive indulgence in the Spice Girls isn’t healthy. It’s time to re-join the rest of the world. Do I make myself clear?” The question wasn’t only addressed to Connor.
When only silence greeted his words, Lester repeated, “Have I made myself clear? It’s time to forgive past transgressions and move on. I have absolutely no intention of conducting group therapy sessions like this on a regular basis. So I’ll ask you all again – in case none of you heard me the first time – and this time I’ll expect a verbal response…. Have I made myself clear?”
An unwilling smile twitched at the corners of Nick’s lips, the first Stephen had seen on his face for weeks. “Aye, I think you’ve made yourself clear. And, for what it’s worth, you’re right. Stephen meant more to me than Helen ever did. If he was here now, I’d apologise.”
It was Lester’s turn to smile. The expression wouldn’t have looked out of place on a timber wolf. “That’s a good start, Professor.”
“I would, too,” Abby said, in a small voice.
Connor’s smile was wan, and Stephen could see the tears in his eyes as his fingers held hard to the iPod in his pocket. He managed a jerky nod.
Lester clapped his hands together hard and made them all jump. “Excellent. Now those reports won’t write themselves…”
Duly dismissed, the three of them filed out, and Stephen could see that Connor wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes.
“Close the door behind you!” Lester called.
The fact that Nick complied without slamming it surprised both of them, and probably surprised him, too.
Lester let out a pent-up breath and leaned back in his chair. “Well, that went better than expected,” he said softly.
“And about bloody time,” another voice cut in. “He should have done that weeks ago.”
Lester gave no sign of having heard anyone speak.
Stephen turned his head, a sudden wild hope flaring inside him.
Tom Ryan stood next to him, dressed casually in civvies, wearing his snuggly jacket, despite the warmth of Lester’s office.
“Tom?”
Ryan smiled, and held out his hand.
Stephen took it.
*****
Lester poured himself a large glass of the exceedingly good cognac he kept in his desk drawer for emergencies and lifted it up in a toast.
“You lived good lives, gentlemen. I hope you now get to live equally good deaths.”
no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 05:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 05:25 pm (UTC)I was whining and getting ready to snivel when everyone ignored him.
Then I went "wait, what? You have to be kidding. Wankers." when they didn't acknowledge his contributions at the beginning.
Then I started getting suspicious when they didn't acknowledge his help in the last one.
The I was sure when the meeting started and Lester started speaking.
Then I actually squeaked when you gave him Ryan back again.
Oh, well done for a very powerful fic!
no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 05:35 pm (UTC)Lester, you are amazing!
So bittersweet. Poor Stephen, but yay for being present at Lester's awesome talk and yay for Ryan appearing.
And they both lived happy ghost-lives ever after.
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Date: 2016-10-31 05:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 06:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 10:10 pm (UTC)Go Lester!
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Date: 2016-11-01 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-01 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-31 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-01 09:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-01 06:56 am (UTC)*sniffs delicately*
You've made a fixit without fixing stuff - difficult to pull off, but you managed it!
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Date: 2016-11-01 09:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-01 11:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-01 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-01 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2016-11-04 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-06 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-20 08:25 am (UTC)Very nicely done
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Date: 2016-11-20 01:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-22 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-22 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-23 10:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-23 01:49 pm (UTC)