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darktrent182TITLE: A Different Breed of Killer
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Law & Order or Lennie Briscoe. While there are two original characters in these two scenes, I could care less about them, though Carruthers makes for another interesting legal case.
FANDOM: Law & Order
PAIRING: None
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: Alternate Universe (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
woffproff's Supernatural series)
WORD COUNT: 1,109
NOTES: Written under the influence of the 2002 version of CHICAGO, more specifically "The Cell Block Tango". This most likely won't make sense unless you readwoffproff's series, but as it is, I figure I'd post it here because it's not connected to the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
house_sup ideas that hawkeyecat and I are working on.
"Haskell! Front and center!"
Dana Haskell wilted and scurried forward. As imposing a sight as she made on the stage, she seemed to wilt into a purple-and-green flower, the tight black leather showing off her curves and revealing that the strange rot the plague vampires suffered from was really all over.
"Hi, Haskell." Not a conventional greeting from a director and one of her performers, but Stacy Carruthers had been anything but conventional.
"Hi, Miss Carruthers," Haskell replied meekly.
Carruthers smiled gently. "What's going on?"
"Whaddaya mean?" Haskell blinked, bright black eyes looking worried.
"You're not angry up there. The way you're selling it, you're incredibly sad."
"But she shot her boyfriend in the head with a shotgun..." she blinked.
Carruthers sighed and leaned to her right to talk to the other women, similarly clad. "Ladies, take five!" She looked back at Haskell. "You, stick around."
With a somewhat graceful movement, Carruthers hopped her butt up on the edge of the stage and patted the patch of stage next to her. Haskell obediently sat.
"Miss Carruthers, I'm really--"
"Don't apologize," Carruthers snapped, ignoring Haskell's flinch as best she could. "Haskell, I know you can sell it. You did it before."
Haskell nodded dejectedly.
"The girl you're playing is angry, Haskell. She killed her boyfriend and has been sitting in jail for it, and when she thinks about it, she's still angry. Most people would've learned to let it go, but not your character. She still wants to shoot him in the head."
Haskell nodded. "Okay."
"Really sneer it," Carruthers suggested. "Lemme hear you say the lines."
"What, you mean here?" Haskell's eyes widened. "Now?"
Carruthers nodded. "I know you can sell it. Sell it for me now."
Haskell cleared her throat and glanced away from Carruthers for a moment. "Okay... 'Y'know how people have these little habits that getcha down? Like... Bernie'."
Carruthers nodded approvingly, whispering under her breath. "Keep going."
" 'Bernie liked to chew gum. No, not chew... pop'."
"Drag that out a little," Carruthers whispered. "Really learn to hate that word."
" 'So I came home this one day, and I'm really irritated, and I'm looking for a little bit of sympathy. And there's Bernie, laying on the couch, drinking a beer, and chewing'," Haskell paused, concentrating on the empty seats in the audience. " 'No, not chewing. Popping'."
"Drag it out. Hate that word," Carruthers whispered rapid-fire, concentrating on Haskell's face. "Hate it so much, you want to do something about it."
"So I said to him, I said, 'If you pop that gum. One. More. Time'." Haskell paused to sigh as if Bernie was dumb enough to do it.
"Excellent, excellent," Carruthers whispered quickly, "You're selling it. Bring it home!"
"And he did."
"Very casual, very 'he did it on purpose to piss me off'..."
"So, I took the shotgun off the wall, and I fired two warning shots."
"Careful there," Carruthers murmured. "Matter-of-fact. Succinct. Calm."
"In. To. His. Head." Haskell sneered slowly.
"Slower, a little more drama in it. She finally did something, and she has to end up scaring Roxie."
Haskell glanced at her, black eyes still worried.
"That was great. Just remember the dance moves, and you're solid."
"Are you sure?" Haskell asked in a small voice.
"Positive," Carruthers said confidently. "Deliver it like that, and I'll swear myself that you killed someone."
Haskell smiled, and suddenly threw her arms around Carruthers' small shoulders. "Thank you so much!"
"No problem," Carruthers smiled, patting her shoulder awkwardly, ignoring the rubbery feel of her skin.
***
"All right, ladies, take five!"
She was small, unremarkable. The glasses resting on her beaky nose overwhelmed her face, making her look almost boyish. Her flannel shirt was a green, black, and white plaid pattern, with the long sleeves rolled-up to the elbows. Her jeans were wrinkled, and she wiped at her nose with a soiled napkin. If it weren't for the fact that she was studying the script, it would've been easy enough to overlook her.
Lennie and Mike shared a glance before Mike headed for the stage to talk to the scantily-clad women.
Lennie focused in on the woman on the floor instead. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the director."
She looked up, her eyes pale blue and watery. "Well, you found her. What can I do ya for?"
If he was surprised, he didn't let it show. "I'm with the New York City Police." He flashed his badge. "Has Dana Haskell shown up to work today?"
The young woman blinked, looking stunned at the idea. "Haskell? No, she hasn't." She frowned. "What's this about?"
"We believe she might've been a witness to a crime," Lennie replied, reaching into his trench coat pocket and pulling out a business card and handing it to her. "If you find her, feel free to call me."
The woman accepted the card, looking down at it briefly, her frown not diminishing. "Now, hang on a sec. Haskell's good people. Just because she's a vampire doesn't mean she did something."
Lennie cocked his head at her curiously. "What makes you think she did something?"
She scowled up at him. "Just because I look like a teenager doesn't mean I'm just as stupid. I've seen enough cop shows to know what 'she might've been a witness to a crime' can mean. If she's suspected of something, I can tell you straight off, she wouldn't have done it."
"What makes you say that?"
"She comes on time, never misses a cue."
"A ringing endorsement," Lennie replied acerbically.
"And she's so terrified of her own shadow off the stage that you have to walk carefully around her. For all I know, she might've been raised by a Nam vet or something, to get so twitchy."
Lennie nodded, mentally adding this to what he and Mike had already gathered about her. "I can't release details of an ongoing investigation, Miss--"
"Carruthers. Stacy Carruthers." Her dark look didn't diminish.
Lennie resisted the urge to snort. "Miss Carruthers. Either way, we want her for questioning."
"I can think of some guys who wanted people for questioning," Carruthers sneered. "Only they were guys in Germany in the late '30s."
Lennie did snort that time. "Unlike the SS, she'll be in good hands."
"And how am I supposed to know that?" Carruthers folded her arms as best she could with her copy of the script still in her hands.
"Ever hear of the Dark Prince?"
Carruthers blinked. "That mobster guy who runs the vampires? Who hasn't?"
"Well, let's just say," Lennie replied, flashing a fang at her, "that he's taken a special interest in her situation."
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Law & Order or Lennie Briscoe. While there are two original characters in these two scenes, I could care less about them, though Carruthers makes for another interesting legal case.
FANDOM: Law & Order
PAIRING: None
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: Alternate Universe (
woffproff's Supernatural series)WORD COUNT: 1,109
NOTES: Written under the influence of the 2002 version of CHICAGO, more specifically "The Cell Block Tango". This most likely won't make sense unless you read
woffproff's series, but as it is, I figure I'd post it here because it's not connected to the house_sup ideas that hawkeyecat and I are working on."Haskell! Front and center!"
Dana Haskell wilted and scurried forward. As imposing a sight as she made on the stage, she seemed to wilt into a purple-and-green flower, the tight black leather showing off her curves and revealing that the strange rot the plague vampires suffered from was really all over.
"Hi, Haskell." Not a conventional greeting from a director and one of her performers, but Stacy Carruthers had been anything but conventional.
"Hi, Miss Carruthers," Haskell replied meekly.
Carruthers smiled gently. "What's going on?"
"Whaddaya mean?" Haskell blinked, bright black eyes looking worried.
"You're not angry up there. The way you're selling it, you're incredibly sad."
"But she shot her boyfriend in the head with a shotgun..." she blinked.
Carruthers sighed and leaned to her right to talk to the other women, similarly clad. "Ladies, take five!" She looked back at Haskell. "You, stick around."
With a somewhat graceful movement, Carruthers hopped her butt up on the edge of the stage and patted the patch of stage next to her. Haskell obediently sat.
"Miss Carruthers, I'm really--"
"Don't apologize," Carruthers snapped, ignoring Haskell's flinch as best she could. "Haskell, I know you can sell it. You did it before."
Haskell nodded dejectedly.
"The girl you're playing is angry, Haskell. She killed her boyfriend and has been sitting in jail for it, and when she thinks about it, she's still angry. Most people would've learned to let it go, but not your character. She still wants to shoot him in the head."
Haskell nodded. "Okay."
"Really sneer it," Carruthers suggested. "Lemme hear you say the lines."
"What, you mean here?" Haskell's eyes widened. "Now?"
Carruthers nodded. "I know you can sell it. Sell it for me now."
Haskell cleared her throat and glanced away from Carruthers for a moment. "Okay... 'Y'know how people have these little habits that getcha down? Like... Bernie'."
Carruthers nodded approvingly, whispering under her breath. "Keep going."
" 'Bernie liked to chew gum. No, not chew... pop'."
"Drag that out a little," Carruthers whispered. "Really learn to hate that word."
" 'So I came home this one day, and I'm really irritated, and I'm looking for a little bit of sympathy. And there's Bernie, laying on the couch, drinking a beer, and chewing'," Haskell paused, concentrating on the empty seats in the audience. " 'No, not chewing. Popping'."
"Drag it out. Hate that word," Carruthers whispered rapid-fire, concentrating on Haskell's face. "Hate it so much, you want to do something about it."
"So I said to him, I said, 'If you pop that gum. One. More. Time'." Haskell paused to sigh as if Bernie was dumb enough to do it.
"Excellent, excellent," Carruthers whispered quickly, "You're selling it. Bring it home!"
"And he did."
"Very casual, very 'he did it on purpose to piss me off'..."
"So, I took the shotgun off the wall, and I fired two warning shots."
"Careful there," Carruthers murmured. "Matter-of-fact. Succinct. Calm."
"In. To. His. Head." Haskell sneered slowly.
"Slower, a little more drama in it. She finally did something, and she has to end up scaring Roxie."
Haskell glanced at her, black eyes still worried.
"That was great. Just remember the dance moves, and you're solid."
"Are you sure?" Haskell asked in a small voice.
"Positive," Carruthers said confidently. "Deliver it like that, and I'll swear myself that you killed someone."
Haskell smiled, and suddenly threw her arms around Carruthers' small shoulders. "Thank you so much!"
"No problem," Carruthers smiled, patting her shoulder awkwardly, ignoring the rubbery feel of her skin.
***
"All right, ladies, take five!"
She was small, unremarkable. The glasses resting on her beaky nose overwhelmed her face, making her look almost boyish. Her flannel shirt was a green, black, and white plaid pattern, with the long sleeves rolled-up to the elbows. Her jeans were wrinkled, and she wiped at her nose with a soiled napkin. If it weren't for the fact that she was studying the script, it would've been easy enough to overlook her.
Lennie and Mike shared a glance before Mike headed for the stage to talk to the scantily-clad women.
Lennie focused in on the woman on the floor instead. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the director."
She looked up, her eyes pale blue and watery. "Well, you found her. What can I do ya for?"
If he was surprised, he didn't let it show. "I'm with the New York City Police." He flashed his badge. "Has Dana Haskell shown up to work today?"
The young woman blinked, looking stunned at the idea. "Haskell? No, she hasn't." She frowned. "What's this about?"
"We believe she might've been a witness to a crime," Lennie replied, reaching into his trench coat pocket and pulling out a business card and handing it to her. "If you find her, feel free to call me."
The woman accepted the card, looking down at it briefly, her frown not diminishing. "Now, hang on a sec. Haskell's good people. Just because she's a vampire doesn't mean she did something."
Lennie cocked his head at her curiously. "What makes you think she did something?"
She scowled up at him. "Just because I look like a teenager doesn't mean I'm just as stupid. I've seen enough cop shows to know what 'she might've been a witness to a crime' can mean. If she's suspected of something, I can tell you straight off, she wouldn't have done it."
"What makes you say that?"
"She comes on time, never misses a cue."
"A ringing endorsement," Lennie replied acerbically.
"And she's so terrified of her own shadow off the stage that you have to walk carefully around her. For all I know, she might've been raised by a Nam vet or something, to get so twitchy."
Lennie nodded, mentally adding this to what he and Mike had already gathered about her. "I can't release details of an ongoing investigation, Miss--"
"Carruthers. Stacy Carruthers." Her dark look didn't diminish.
Lennie resisted the urge to snort. "Miss Carruthers. Either way, we want her for questioning."
"I can think of some guys who wanted people for questioning," Carruthers sneered. "Only they were guys in Germany in the late '30s."
Lennie did snort that time. "Unlike the SS, she'll be in good hands."
"And how am I supposed to know that?" Carruthers folded her arms as best she could with her copy of the script still in her hands.
"Ever hear of the Dark Prince?"
Carruthers blinked. "That mobster guy who runs the vampires? Who hasn't?"
"Well, let's just say," Lennie replied, flashing a fang at her, "that he's taken a special interest in her situation."
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 02:51 am (UTC)I love that description---the mobster guy who runs the vampires!
(And that last line is such a killer. Nice and visual.)
Gee, wish my SUP muse would come back and see me sometime...
no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 03:22 am (UTC)*facepaw*
no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 09:33 am (UTC)*hug*
The hamster cohort! I'm sorry about being so out-of-pocket. How've you been doing?
no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 03:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 09:08 am (UTC)Obviously, writing together is awesome, but reading what you write on your own is so rewarding. I like Carruthers' attitude, and Lennie's lines are great. ("Mobster guy", hee!)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 09:33 am (UTC)Me? Writing something that's rewarding?
*scuffs toe in woodchips, stays blushing*