Fic! Spooks
25 September 2011 14:57![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hestia8Spoilers for 1001.
Title: Scapegoat
Summary: Beth’s decommissioning.
Notes: first finished s10 fic! Woo. Clearly, Beth being booted out despite having nothing to do with the LucasJohn mess needed a bit more development.
Between Harry and Lucas (or John, whatever) and Ruth’s no guns in the house ever again rule, Beth was beginning to wonder if the whole MI5 thing had been a mistake. She was thinking about resigning, about going off somewhere new and trying something different. Maybe – and this was a big step for her – something that didn’t involve frequent firearms use.
As it turned out, someone else had been wondering if the whole Beth-Bailey-in-MI5 thing had been a mistake.
--
In all honesty, when Beth had been called in to Harry’s office, she’d been mostly concerned with trying to work out why Erin Watts was so familiar. It wasn’t just from seeing her around the building, she was sure, but -
“I’m sorry, you’re what?” Beth asked, suddenly looking at Erin, who was flushing and glancing down at what – if Beth was a cynical person – she would have guessed was a script.
“Decommissioning you.” Erin said. "We feel that your past, coupled with your behaviour during the Westhouse operation, means that you’re not suitable for, um. Us.”
Jesus, she was reading from a script, and she couldn’t even be bothered to sound like she believed it. And Westhouse was bloody months ago.
“My behaviour during the Westhouse operation,” Beth repeated flatly. She refused to justify or explain her actions any further; she’d done enough apologising at the time and Ruth was the only person she’d felt bad for afterwards.
“And the…links to Colombian drug cartels?” Erin said, wide-eyed all of a sudden, and Beth wondered if someone had just handed her a piece of paper and shoved her into the room. She wouldn’t put it past them.
In another situation, Beth might have spared a moment to feel sorry for someone who’d so obviously been promoted way past their comfort zone, but right now she was just angry.
“Harry didn’t consult anyone when he brought you in,” Erin said, recovering her certainty a little. “And if he had done –“
“I wouldn’t have been taken on in the first place. Thanks for the vote of confidence. So when am I going?”
“Ah,” Erin said. “Well, immediately.”
Beth sighed and counted backwards from ten in Spanish. It didn’t help.
“So, you just want me to get up and walk out of the building. Right now.”
Erin tried to smile sympathetically and shrugged. “I know it’s not ideal.”
“Not exactly the word I would have used, no,” Beth said, standing up. “But trust me, it’s going to be more of a problem for you than for me.”
Erin dropped the mask. She looked up at Beth and smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. I know. It’s all here. Swiss bank accounts and arms deals. You’re going to be just fine, so never mind the rest of us.”
“I’m not choosing to leave without notice,” Beth pointed out, “so blame whoever promoted you. And watch your own back as well. I had nothing
to do with the John Bateman situation, but it looks good to get rid of me anyway. You should be careful. You never know when they’ll decide you’re not up to scratch.”
“I don’t have the same kind of questionable activities in my past as you.” Erin said primly (and if she really thought that would protect her, she had a huge shock coming), and suddenly Beth remembered where she’d seen her before.
“Oh, of course. I remember you now. From school. We were in the same year. You were head girl. Always so good. I was expelled. Funny how history repeats itself, isn’t it?”
At any other time, Beth thought, Erin would probably have welcomed speaking to another Queen Anne’s Old Girl. She probably went to the reunions and donated and kept in touch with the others from their year. Now, though, she just looked uncomfortable.
“And you were just as responsible for your own actions then,” she said, and Beth gave up. If Erin thought that getting rid of Beth would solve the problems in Section D, good luck to her.
“I’ve never said I wasn’t. I don’t blame other people for my messes, and I don’t make other people fix them for me, either. If you’re worried about responsibility, look around you. And then hope you have better luck than I did.”
Beth didn’t give Erin a chance to say anything else before she walked out. She’d had her fill of lectures and snide comments and trying to live up to someone else’s standards.
She could almost feel the cameras tracking her as she walked off the grid, and then out of the building. She didn’t stop to speak to anyone; she’d do that later, when she wasn’t being watched. And then she’d work out where to go, and what to do next.
She’d probably got all she could out of South America, and the continent was supposed to be nice this time of year. Maybe she’d go to Monte Carlo and have some fun, spend some of the money in those Swiss bank accounts before she got back down to the serious business of making it.
Title: Scapegoat
Summary: Beth’s decommissioning.
Notes: first finished s10 fic! Woo. Clearly, Beth being booted out despite having nothing to do with the LucasJohn mess needed a bit more development.
Between Harry and Lucas (or John, whatever) and Ruth’s no guns in the house ever again rule, Beth was beginning to wonder if the whole MI5 thing had been a mistake. She was thinking about resigning, about going off somewhere new and trying something different. Maybe – and this was a big step for her – something that didn’t involve frequent firearms use.
As it turned out, someone else had been wondering if the whole Beth-Bailey-in-MI5 thing had been a mistake.
--
In all honesty, when Beth had been called in to Harry’s office, she’d been mostly concerned with trying to work out why Erin Watts was so familiar. It wasn’t just from seeing her around the building, she was sure, but -
“I’m sorry, you’re what?” Beth asked, suddenly looking at Erin, who was flushing and glancing down at what – if Beth was a cynical person – she would have guessed was a script.
“Decommissioning you.” Erin said. "We feel that your past, coupled with your behaviour during the Westhouse operation, means that you’re not suitable for, um. Us.”
Jesus, she was reading from a script, and she couldn’t even be bothered to sound like she believed it. And Westhouse was bloody months ago.
“My behaviour during the Westhouse operation,” Beth repeated flatly. She refused to justify or explain her actions any further; she’d done enough apologising at the time and Ruth was the only person she’d felt bad for afterwards.
“And the…links to Colombian drug cartels?” Erin said, wide-eyed all of a sudden, and Beth wondered if someone had just handed her a piece of paper and shoved her into the room. She wouldn’t put it past them.
In another situation, Beth might have spared a moment to feel sorry for someone who’d so obviously been promoted way past their comfort zone, but right now she was just angry.
“Harry didn’t consult anyone when he brought you in,” Erin said, recovering her certainty a little. “And if he had done –“
“I wouldn’t have been taken on in the first place. Thanks for the vote of confidence. So when am I going?”
“Ah,” Erin said. “Well, immediately.”
Beth sighed and counted backwards from ten in Spanish. It didn’t help.
“So, you just want me to get up and walk out of the building. Right now.”
Erin tried to smile sympathetically and shrugged. “I know it’s not ideal.”
“Not exactly the word I would have used, no,” Beth said, standing up. “But trust me, it’s going to be more of a problem for you than for me.”
Erin dropped the mask. She looked up at Beth and smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. I know. It’s all here. Swiss bank accounts and arms deals. You’re going to be just fine, so never mind the rest of us.”
“I’m not choosing to leave without notice,” Beth pointed out, “so blame whoever promoted you. And watch your own back as well. I had nothing
to do with the John Bateman situation, but it looks good to get rid of me anyway. You should be careful. You never know when they’ll decide you’re not up to scratch.”
“I don’t have the same kind of questionable activities in my past as you.” Erin said primly (and if she really thought that would protect her, she had a huge shock coming), and suddenly Beth remembered where she’d seen her before.
“Oh, of course. I remember you now. From school. We were in the same year. You were head girl. Always so good. I was expelled. Funny how history repeats itself, isn’t it?”
At any other time, Beth thought, Erin would probably have welcomed speaking to another Queen Anne’s Old Girl. She probably went to the reunions and donated and kept in touch with the others from their year. Now, though, she just looked uncomfortable.
“And you were just as responsible for your own actions then,” she said, and Beth gave up. If Erin thought that getting rid of Beth would solve the problems in Section D, good luck to her.
“I’ve never said I wasn’t. I don’t blame other people for my messes, and I don’t make other people fix them for me, either. If you’re worried about responsibility, look around you. And then hope you have better luck than I did.”
Beth didn’t give Erin a chance to say anything else before she walked out. She’d had her fill of lectures and snide comments and trying to live up to someone else’s standards.
She could almost feel the cameras tracking her as she walked off the grid, and then out of the building. She didn’t stop to speak to anyone; she’d do that later, when she wasn’t being watched. And then she’d work out where to go, and what to do next.
She’d probably got all she could out of South America, and the continent was supposed to be nice this time of year. Maybe she’d go to Monte Carlo and have some fun, spend some of the money in those Swiss bank accounts before she got back down to the serious business of making it.
