Fandom: The Good Wife
Characters/Pairings: CaryAgos/Geneva Pine
Notes: Written for zxfactor or as I like to call her, Renee Goldsberry's biggest fan. Here's hoping Geneva shows up more often. Beta by tokenblkgirl.
Summary: Geneva likes to win.
Geneva likes to win. That’s the first thing Cary noticed about her, that she liked winning more than anything else about the job. The other guys talk about getting satisfaction out of putting a killer behind bars, or that it beats mailing out discovery requests for some geezer riddled with mesothelioma. But for Geneva it’s about winning, seeking justice (justice being her theory of the case) and pleading out only in the rare case she can’t browbeat some overworked public defender into throwing their hands up in defeat. Carey worked with her on a DUI manslaughter during his first week with the office and she micromanaged the hell out every word that came out of his mouth. They won the case. But he never volunteered to work with her again.
The contest is her idea. After three hot toddies at the office Christmas party (a two hundred dollar cold cuts and CD fest redeemed only by an open bar) Geneva started bragging about some drug dealer she put away. Cary made the mistake of looking bored. She called him a rich boy and gave him shit for only taking a few cases at a time. He’s been dodging that particular bullet since he got there. He’d never admit it, but trying to shake the slower pace of private practice in favor of the assembly line mentality of the public sector is taking longer than he anticipated. But faster isn’t always better, which is exactly what he tells her.
Geneva counters with wager. “I’ll clear more cases than you in a month. Pleas don’t count. You have to win, fair and square. Loser’s punishment is up to the winner.” Cary accepts, mainly because he’s had a few too many as well and can’t stop staring at her legs. Someone said she used to be a dancer.
It’s close in the end. Geneva’s up six cases to his five and his last case is against Alicia Florrick which usually means another defeat. But then something happens, a lost affidavit that knocks out their eye witness and the jury doesn’t trust her anymore. Cary actually wins this one, which surprises him more than Alicia.
Geneva’s not impressed. “It shouldn’t count,” she says with that long dark ponytail draped over one shoulder.
“Yeah well, I don’t remember any rules about winning against incompetent defense counsel.” She never wears her hair down. Probably a dancer thing. “So we’re tied.” His shrug says the whole thing was stupid anyway. “What now?”
Geneva looks away, wound so tight he can see the muscles in her jaw clench and unclench. It’s cute. He makes a mental note to piss her off more often. “Another month?”
Cary waits until she looks at him to grin. “That must be some punishment you’ve got in mind.”
Geneva actually looks embarrassed. “It’s not about that. It’s just—”
“You don’t like losing.” Carey starts to rock band forth in his chair. He only has three cases left with any hope of going to trial next month. One’s going to plead out and the other two are Lockhart Gardner. He doubts he’ll be so lucky again. “Okay,” Cary says. “Another month it is.”
Geneva straightens her spine and preens like he’s passed off the Olympic torch. “Okay,” she says. “Good luck.”
“I won’t need it, but thanks.”
Cary watches her walk away, his eyes falling from her hips to calves. If Geneva likes to win, the least he can do is let her.
Title: An Education
Word Count: 701
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Characters/Pairing: Jeremy Gilbert/Bonnie Bennett
Notes: Written for ozmissage and beta by tokenblkgirl
Summary: Bonnie’s still learning how to cope with tragedy.
John used to say that growing up meant letting go of a lot shit that used to be important. He didn’t elaborate and Jeremy being ten years old at the time thought he meant toys and baby blankets, things he was starting to doubt his allegiance to anyway. But then he started losing things that you only appreciate when they’re gone. Like his virginity for one, something he’d lugged around like a cement albatross around his neck; or the idea that his sister would never lie to him, not about something that mattered. Vicki broke his heart and turned into a monster, which stole any illusion of life being fair he had left. Anna ripped apart his belief in a heaven or hell. The dead weren’t supposed to have a soul; that much he remembered from Sunday school. They weren’t supposed to have a conscience either.
Bonnie is older than Jeremy but she’s only just learning. Her dad spoiled her (which Jeremy used to hate. He called her the brat behind her back) and her Grams only showed her the good side of magic until she had no other choice. While Jeremy used joints, beer and risky sex to cope with this dead parents, Bonnie was still shopping for prom dresses, making feathers float in midair and texting Elena about the new guy at Mystic High School. That’s the real reason she hates the vampires; for taking all that away from her.
She doesn’t smile anymore. He noticed it at the masquerade after he asked her to dance. It was like that moment when you find something you didn’t know you lost and think, “Oh yeah, I remember that,” and feel guilty for not noticing it was gone. Not that Bonnie’s smile is his—though he feels possessive about it since lately he’s the only one that can pry it out of her—before then they’d never had a real conversation outside of worrying about Elena or arguing over the remote control. But in that moment he felt a sort of kinship with her, like they were part of a small group of people on the fringes of everything and if they didn’t take care of each other then no one else would.
It’s her first Christmas without her Grams so he’s not surprised when Bonnie doesn’t answer the phone. He rings her doorbell three times and nearly shatters a window before she acknowledges that he’s there. There’s a Christmas tree in the living room, but she hasn’t bothered to turn it on. Her father is at a friend’s. “He invited me,” she says quickly, “But I told him I didn’t feel well.”
“You look fine to me.” It isn’t true. She looks broken and a little angry. “Why don’t you come home with me? Jenna’s making eggnog.”
Bonnie starts to speak, but stops. He’s used to this now, the way she picks over each thought and only shares those that feel safe to let out in the open. “I’m not really in the mood Jeremy.” Her eyes shift to the door, finishing the sentence for her. So leave me the hell alone.
“I know,” he says, and hopes his meaning is just as clear. I’ve been you. “But why don’t you come anyway?”
She smiles. It’s brief but definitely there. “Jenna’s eggnog is terrible.”
“Yeah, I know.” He’s moved closer during the conversation. He wants to touch her, but traces his fingers along an end table instead. “But we’ve gotta make due with what we have right?”
“Is that how it goes?” She scans the room, eyes resting on the unlit tree, the pictures of her absent family on the mantle, his hand inches away from hers. “Making due with whatever’s around?” Her voice shrinks near the end when she meets his eyes. “Not that you…I mean, I don’t mean—”
“No,” Jeremy says. Her embarrassment makes him brave and he touches her. It’s meant to be comfort but his hand trembles, betraying him. “You just appreciate things more. Things you never knew were important.”
“Like bad eggnog?” It’s a real smile this time. Jeremy squeezes her hand, grateful for the effort. It isn’t much. But she’s still learning.