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remix_reduxTitle: The Offer (The Red Apple Remix)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
firstgold
Summary: Holland was once as ignorant as the chattel milling around the campus, until Wolfram and Hart had extended him the forbidden fruit he had not known he was seeking.
Fandom: Angel
Characters: Holland Manners, Lindsey McDonald
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Whedon and Mutant Enemy's, not mine.
Original story: The Offer byalison_sky
Notes: Thanks to my betasnaturelf, yhlee and alixtii - you guys rock!
***
The Offer (The Red Apple Remix)
Holland walks across the New England School of Law campus, his overcoat uncreased despite the amount of time he has spent in airplanes and hired cars. His strides are purposeful, his head held high. He has never been on this particular campus before and yet he does not stop for directions - he does not need to. His sources have supplied him with more than enough information to locate the young man he has traveled across the continent for. Mesektet had suggested - strongly - that he make this trip at another time in order to allow the Senior Partners more time to observe the young man, forcing his hand sooner than he would have liked. And so, Holland informed the Senior Partners, by way of Mesektet, that this young man would play an important role in the inevitable Ragnarok.
He stops outside of the library. Passing by an empty bench, Holland chooses to stand beside a tall white ash that affords him a view of the library’s main door. He waits, passing the time by watching the sea of bland generic students and frowns. He was once as ignorant as the chattel milling around the campus, until Wolfram and Hart had extended him the forbidden fruit he had not known he was seeking. And this young man --
He cocks his head ever so slightly as a young man -- the young man -- walks out of the library. It would be almost impossible to miss him - his faded jeans and cowboy hat stick out like a sore thumb. Holland watches his prey. He acknowledges that he still views Lindsey McDonald as prey, despite knowing that this man will soon become his protégé.
The large stack of books in Lindsey’s arms further serves to prove what Holland’s sources have already told him; this young man has the drive and determination to go places.
His sources do not know of his involvement in directing Lindsey McDonald's journey to this moment. A few carefully placed phone calls and several artfully worded reminders guided the dean’s decision to award this anonymous young man a full academic scholarship. A young man from a destitute family of little importance in Texas whose father lacked the contacts and knowledge that Holland had available to him. Holland is not one to stick his neck out without knowing the gains would substantially outweigh the risk -- and Holland has been pulling strings and cashing in favours for Lindsey McDonald these past nine years. On the eve of Lindsey's final exam and subsequent graduation, Holland has come to collect on this.
His lips curve upward as the young man stops. As with all prey, Lindsey knows he is being watched. Holland makes no move to conceal himself; it is pleasing to know that Lindsey is aware of his presence.
He watches as Lindsey shakes his head, dismissing the feeling that he is being watched. Lindsey opens the door to his beat-up pick up truck and it protests with a loud, rusty creak. ‘That truck will have to be replaced,’ Holland thinks.
Holland waits until Lindsey has driven off, exhaust pipe belching dark grey fumes in its wake, before turning and heading back to his hotel room.
The next morning dawns, crisp and clear. Light streams through the open curtains of Holland’s immaculate hotel room. He has long since risen from bed – the best hours for contacting many of his clients, especially those of a more vampiric nature than is usually ascribed to his breed of lawyer, are before sunrise.
"And it's all been good, I assure you." Holland sits in the overstuffed loveseat in front of the window. The vampire on the other end of the line does not seem to be placated by Holland's assurances.
"I take it I do not need to remind you why I moved to Los Angeles." There is a slight lisp to the vampire's voice and Holland frowns distastefully.
"Mr. Winters, Wolfram and Hart is a full-service law firm. As far as the public is concerned, you are a civilized business man who always pays his taxes on time and donates the right amount of money to the right charities." Holland picks up his pen, but does not make any notes in his phone log. Unlike many of his colleagues, he believes it rude to make notes during a phone conversation, even if the other party cannot see the notes being made.
There is a brief silence as Mr. Winters considers what Holland has said. This silence tells Holland that his words were a demulcent for the vampire's doubts.
"We will be in touch again, Holland."
The line goes dead. Holland notes the conversation meticulously in his agenda, adding a new note beside Russell Winters’ name: Long-term investments over quick pay outs.
His phone calls for the morning concluded, Holland slips on his overcoat. It is time to extend the forbidden fruit to young Lindsey McDonald.
Holland waits underneath the same white ash as the previous day, the collar of his coat precisely folded down in sharp contrast to all the turned up collars. The spring wind is bitter, but does not phase him. It is almost as if he is immune to the cold around him. He enjoys the irony of this passing thought; he knows what heat awaits him when the mortal portion of his contract is concluded.
Students pour out of the building, their final examinations completed. Holland efficiently moves the few feet necessary to stand at Lindsey’s pick-up truck. He spots the young man, one of the last to exit the building, a smug smile on his face. It is the smile of one who knows that they knew all the material covered on the examination forwards and backwards. Gradually, the smile fades to a questioning look as he spots Holland.
"There is no need for you to go to Mary Lou’s," Holland states as Lindsey sizes him up.
Lindsay’s mouth moves as if to sputter, but he expertly turns this movement into a response. "You’ve been following me." It is not a question.
"For much longer than you may be aware of." Holland extends a gloved hand (the one extravagance he allows himself – there is no need for leather gloves in Los Angeles) towards Lindsey. "Holland Manners, Attorney-at-Law with Wolfram and Hart."
Lindsey firmly shakes Holland's hand firmly. "I take it that you already know who I am, Mr. Manners," he drawls, making no attempt to disguise his accent.
Holland’s lips curl upwards in a pleased smile. "Yes. The eldest son of Randy McDonald, a dirt-poor man living out his life on a ranch mending someone else’s fences, never enough money to do more than just barely get by."
Angry eyes flash and meet Holland’s. Holland tilts his head towards Lindsey’s curled fists.
"I am fully aware of your temper. To be a dominating presence in the court room, you will need to learn how to control it to serve you and your client."
Lindsey relaxes his fists against the sides of his legs and tilts the brim of his hat back. "You're here to recruit me."
"You may call it that; in actuality, I am here to offer you something no one else can." Holland reaches into the left pocket of his overcoat, and withdraws an apple.
Lindsey smirks. "You've come all this way to offer me an apple?"
Holland takes his time shining the apple against the front of his overcoat. He extends the apple to Lindsey as if the young man were a wild stallion that required taming.
"I am offering you knowledge. The Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart are very impressed by your potential. They see in you limitless drive and determination. You will be flown to Los Angeles --"
"I don't accept handouts." Lindsey's interruption is vehement. He spits out the words, moving as if to strike the apple from Holland's hand.
Holland withdraws the apple, holding it almost protectively against his chest. "I assure you this is no hand out, Lindsey. I am offering you a position at our firm in Los Angeles. Every year, hopeful candidates kill for an opportunity such as this one. I warn you - your life will belong to the firm once you accept this position; however, nothing will ever be out of your grasp again."
Holland watches as Lindsey reaches forward for the apple. His fingers stop mere inches away from the fruit in final hesitation. "And what if I want to leave or don't live up to your expectations?"
"Then we kill you." Holland nods toward the apple. "This offer will only be made once, Mr. McDonald."
The wind picks up and cuts through Lindsey's thin jacket. He shivers involuntarily, eyes only for the apple.
Holland knows what Lindsey must be thinking – afterall, he was once similar to Lindsey himself. Lindsey has undoubtedly heard of Wolfram and Hart’s reputation (most assuredly in a negative light from one of his more “ethically” minded professors), and yet, he can see the man's common sense give way to temptation. He smiles as Lindsey finally takes a hold of the apple.
The prey is now the protégé.
Holland reaches into his overcoat and withdraws a contract, affixed with one of the firm's seals - a crimson hart. "Read the contract. All the information that you will require to contact me and begin your new career is in there. You will also find a ticket with the contract - your plane leaves for Los Angeles next Monday."
Lindsey gives Holland a nod, a smug smirk turning up the edges of his lips. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer driving."
With a nod to the young man, Holland opens the truck’s door and motions for Lindsey to enter. "Very well. Upon arrival, contact my secretary. She will inform you of what time you are to be at headquarters to sign the contract and begin your time with Wolfram and Hart."
Lindsey looks down at the contract, then up at Holland. He returns Holland’s nod and throws his duffel into the passenger seat of the truck.
Holland pushes the door shut behind Lindsey. In silence, he watches as Lindsey takes a bite of the apple before he eases the truck into gear.
Holland withholds his pleased expression until the battered pick-up truck is out of sight.
fin.
***
Author:
firstgoldSummary: Holland was once as ignorant as the chattel milling around the campus, until Wolfram and Hart had extended him the forbidden fruit he had not known he was seeking.
Fandom: Angel
Characters: Holland Manners, Lindsey McDonald
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Whedon and Mutant Enemy's, not mine.
Original story: The Offer by
alison_skyNotes: Thanks to my betas
naturelf, yhlee and alixtii - you guys rock!***
The Offer (The Red Apple Remix)
Holland walks across the New England School of Law campus, his overcoat uncreased despite the amount of time he has spent in airplanes and hired cars. His strides are purposeful, his head held high. He has never been on this particular campus before and yet he does not stop for directions - he does not need to. His sources have supplied him with more than enough information to locate the young man he has traveled across the continent for. Mesektet had suggested - strongly - that he make this trip at another time in order to allow the Senior Partners more time to observe the young man, forcing his hand sooner than he would have liked. And so, Holland informed the Senior Partners, by way of Mesektet, that this young man would play an important role in the inevitable Ragnarok.
He stops outside of the library. Passing by an empty bench, Holland chooses to stand beside a tall white ash that affords him a view of the library’s main door. He waits, passing the time by watching the sea of bland generic students and frowns. He was once as ignorant as the chattel milling around the campus, until Wolfram and Hart had extended him the forbidden fruit he had not known he was seeking. And this young man --
He cocks his head ever so slightly as a young man -- the young man -- walks out of the library. It would be almost impossible to miss him - his faded jeans and cowboy hat stick out like a sore thumb. Holland watches his prey. He acknowledges that he still views Lindsey McDonald as prey, despite knowing that this man will soon become his protégé.
The large stack of books in Lindsey’s arms further serves to prove what Holland’s sources have already told him; this young man has the drive and determination to go places.
His sources do not know of his involvement in directing Lindsey McDonald's journey to this moment. A few carefully placed phone calls and several artfully worded reminders guided the dean’s decision to award this anonymous young man a full academic scholarship. A young man from a destitute family of little importance in Texas whose father lacked the contacts and knowledge that Holland had available to him. Holland is not one to stick his neck out without knowing the gains would substantially outweigh the risk -- and Holland has been pulling strings and cashing in favours for Lindsey McDonald these past nine years. On the eve of Lindsey's final exam and subsequent graduation, Holland has come to collect on this.
His lips curve upward as the young man stops. As with all prey, Lindsey knows he is being watched. Holland makes no move to conceal himself; it is pleasing to know that Lindsey is aware of his presence.
He watches as Lindsey shakes his head, dismissing the feeling that he is being watched. Lindsey opens the door to his beat-up pick up truck and it protests with a loud, rusty creak. ‘That truck will have to be replaced,’ Holland thinks.
Holland waits until Lindsey has driven off, exhaust pipe belching dark grey fumes in its wake, before turning and heading back to his hotel room.
The next morning dawns, crisp and clear. Light streams through the open curtains of Holland’s immaculate hotel room. He has long since risen from bed – the best hours for contacting many of his clients, especially those of a more vampiric nature than is usually ascribed to his breed of lawyer, are before sunrise.
"And it's all been good, I assure you." Holland sits in the overstuffed loveseat in front of the window. The vampire on the other end of the line does not seem to be placated by Holland's assurances.
"I take it I do not need to remind you why I moved to Los Angeles." There is a slight lisp to the vampire's voice and Holland frowns distastefully.
"Mr. Winters, Wolfram and Hart is a full-service law firm. As far as the public is concerned, you are a civilized business man who always pays his taxes on time and donates the right amount of money to the right charities." Holland picks up his pen, but does not make any notes in his phone log. Unlike many of his colleagues, he believes it rude to make notes during a phone conversation, even if the other party cannot see the notes being made.
There is a brief silence as Mr. Winters considers what Holland has said. This silence tells Holland that his words were a demulcent for the vampire's doubts.
"We will be in touch again, Holland."
The line goes dead. Holland notes the conversation meticulously in his agenda, adding a new note beside Russell Winters’ name: Long-term investments over quick pay outs.
His phone calls for the morning concluded, Holland slips on his overcoat. It is time to extend the forbidden fruit to young Lindsey McDonald.
Holland waits underneath the same white ash as the previous day, the collar of his coat precisely folded down in sharp contrast to all the turned up collars. The spring wind is bitter, but does not phase him. It is almost as if he is immune to the cold around him. He enjoys the irony of this passing thought; he knows what heat awaits him when the mortal portion of his contract is concluded.
Students pour out of the building, their final examinations completed. Holland efficiently moves the few feet necessary to stand at Lindsey’s pick-up truck. He spots the young man, one of the last to exit the building, a smug smile on his face. It is the smile of one who knows that they knew all the material covered on the examination forwards and backwards. Gradually, the smile fades to a questioning look as he spots Holland.
"There is no need for you to go to Mary Lou’s," Holland states as Lindsey sizes him up.
Lindsay’s mouth moves as if to sputter, but he expertly turns this movement into a response. "You’ve been following me." It is not a question.
"For much longer than you may be aware of." Holland extends a gloved hand (the one extravagance he allows himself – there is no need for leather gloves in Los Angeles) towards Lindsey. "Holland Manners, Attorney-at-Law with Wolfram and Hart."
Lindsey firmly shakes Holland's hand firmly. "I take it that you already know who I am, Mr. Manners," he drawls, making no attempt to disguise his accent.
Holland’s lips curl upwards in a pleased smile. "Yes. The eldest son of Randy McDonald, a dirt-poor man living out his life on a ranch mending someone else’s fences, never enough money to do more than just barely get by."
Angry eyes flash and meet Holland’s. Holland tilts his head towards Lindsey’s curled fists.
"I am fully aware of your temper. To be a dominating presence in the court room, you will need to learn how to control it to serve you and your client."
Lindsey relaxes his fists against the sides of his legs and tilts the brim of his hat back. "You're here to recruit me."
"You may call it that; in actuality, I am here to offer you something no one else can." Holland reaches into the left pocket of his overcoat, and withdraws an apple.
Lindsey smirks. "You've come all this way to offer me an apple?"
Holland takes his time shining the apple against the front of his overcoat. He extends the apple to Lindsey as if the young man were a wild stallion that required taming.
"I am offering you knowledge. The Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart are very impressed by your potential. They see in you limitless drive and determination. You will be flown to Los Angeles --"
"I don't accept handouts." Lindsey's interruption is vehement. He spits out the words, moving as if to strike the apple from Holland's hand.
Holland withdraws the apple, holding it almost protectively against his chest. "I assure you this is no hand out, Lindsey. I am offering you a position at our firm in Los Angeles. Every year, hopeful candidates kill for an opportunity such as this one. I warn you - your life will belong to the firm once you accept this position; however, nothing will ever be out of your grasp again."
Holland watches as Lindsey reaches forward for the apple. His fingers stop mere inches away from the fruit in final hesitation. "And what if I want to leave or don't live up to your expectations?"
"Then we kill you." Holland nods toward the apple. "This offer will only be made once, Mr. McDonald."
The wind picks up and cuts through Lindsey's thin jacket. He shivers involuntarily, eyes only for the apple.
Holland knows what Lindsey must be thinking – afterall, he was once similar to Lindsey himself. Lindsey has undoubtedly heard of Wolfram and Hart’s reputation (most assuredly in a negative light from one of his more “ethically” minded professors), and yet, he can see the man's common sense give way to temptation. He smiles as Lindsey finally takes a hold of the apple.
The prey is now the protégé.
Holland reaches into his overcoat and withdraws a contract, affixed with one of the firm's seals - a crimson hart. "Read the contract. All the information that you will require to contact me and begin your new career is in there. You will also find a ticket with the contract - your plane leaves for Los Angeles next Monday."
Lindsey gives Holland a nod, a smug smirk turning up the edges of his lips. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer driving."
With a nod to the young man, Holland opens the truck’s door and motions for Lindsey to enter. "Very well. Upon arrival, contact my secretary. She will inform you of what time you are to be at headquarters to sign the contract and begin your time with Wolfram and Hart."
Lindsey looks down at the contract, then up at Holland. He returns Holland’s nod and throws his duffel into the passenger seat of the truck.
Holland pushes the door shut behind Lindsey. In silence, he watches as Lindsey takes a bite of the apple before he eases the truck into gear.
Holland withholds his pleased expression until the battered pick-up truck is out of sight.
fin.
***
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 02:53 am (UTC)The Holland and Lindsey dynamic is one of my favorite to play with (which I'm sure you saw when looking through the boy's journal) so I'm so happy to see one of them done through Holland's eyes.
Thank you thank you THANK YOU!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 02:34 am (UTC)It was the first time that I've used the Holland POV, but when I read "The Offer", the first thing that came to mind was doing it from Holland's POV.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 04:29 pm (UTC)Yes, I love that icon. But the real pretties are in this journal ;)
You did it well, using Holland's POV. Maybe it might spur you to do more *poke and laugh*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-28 03:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 03:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 02:33 am (UTC)Feedback on Red Apple Remix
Date: 2007-04-25 03:31 am (UTC)Re: Feedback on Red Apple Remix
Date: 2007-04-28 03:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-29 03:12 pm (UTC)The prey is now the protégé. Nice to see the turning point.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer driving." Ah Lindsey, always a streak of independence!
Really enjoyed this.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-06-11 11:58 pm (UTC)