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Title: Black Edelweiss
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 1,010
Summary: Two weeks after Claire Bennet's televised leap from the Ferris wheel, the 12th handles it's first case delving into the strange world of specials. Evidence points the investigation toward a former Company Agent, a man Noah Bennet would swear up and down doesn't exist.
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full warnings and details in main post.
PREV: Interlude 9 // MAIN // NEXT: Interlude 11
Konrad & Frank—Queens, New York; March 17th, 1960
"Me and Sharon would be happy to have you over any time, Richie," McNulty told him as they stepped into the locker room. "Just you say the word."
It wasn't the first time Konrad's new partner had tried to open their home to him. Actually, it probably wasn't even the tenth. In fact, at that moment they were coming off a very long, very difficult shift, and the topic had arisen at least four times since that same shift began.
"I know, Frank," Konrad said, answering the offer with a polite smile. "And trust me, I appreciate it. I just don't have the time."
The irony of those words did not escape him.
"C'mon, kid," his partner argued lightly. "I know you got your eyes on a shield, but that don't mean you have to put everything else on hold for the job. Trust me, that's no way to live."
Konrad let the diminutive slide with practiced ease. He'd been 'kid' or 'junior' to most of the instructors his entire time in the academy. While it had stung at first, in the end it was something he had been forced to get used to. At least now that he was through it 'rookie' had become much more common.
Regardless, he knew McNulty meant nothing hurtful by it, and the truth was that Konrad was grateful for the offer. In fact, part of him wanted more than anything to accept it. However there was another part of him—a part that was still bruised and hurting—which felt that letting anyone get close was too much of a risk. After all it wasn't much more than a year ago that his life as Dorian Gray had been torn to shreds, and a little less than a year since he had taken a new name.
He had to be smarter about things if he wanted his time as Richard Conway to last...
That meant more than just avoiding attachments. Konrad might only have ten or fifteen years to work with before people began to notice that he wasn't aging. Two years ago that might have sounded like a long time, but Richard Conway was more like Konrad than Dorian Gray ever had been. Conway was an ambitious young man planning his career, and even twenty years might not be enough to get him where he wanted. He would have to make detective young if he was going to make it mean anything before he was forced to move on once again. He had to keep his priorities straight.
Unfortunately, Francis McNulty wasn't likely to give up without a fight.
"A young guy like you shouldn't keep to himself so much," Frank continued, "its downright criminal."
Konrad tried to keep his face impassive as he shucked out of his uniform. He had an inkling where this was headed.
"Criminal," Frank repeated with a dramatic emphasis, "and as an officer of our lovely city's police force, I would be remiss in my duties not to invite you out for a bit of drinking."
As he buttoned up his shirt, Konrad made the mistake of glancing over. He found, to his dismay, that Frank's expression had turned exaggeratedly stern. The man looked absolutely ridiculous. Konrad was sure the effect was completely intentional.
"It is St. Patrick's Day, after all," Frank told him, as seriously as if the drinking he proposed really were required by law. And his face was just as solemn as he tacked the cheap pin to the front of Konrad's jacket.
Looking down at the pin, Konrad let out a faint laugh.
"I'm not Irish," he argued lightly, as if refuting the button's claim might somehow get him out of it. Frank simply tsked.
"Everyone's Irish on St. Patrick's Day."
Konrad couldn't help but laugh at that, shaking his head.
"God, Frankie, I swear you're such a cartoon sometimes," Konrad said. "With your Catholic school schtick and 'gift of gab'—and I'm still not convinced ‘Leprechaun tossing' ain't something you just made up."
While the words might have sounded insulting, they were more of an observation than anything else, and as he half expected Frank simply seemed amused.
"One thing about stereotypes, though, Richie," Frank said with an exaggerated wink, "is that people rarely question them."
Konrad had to admit this was true. They had only worked together for a few months, but Konrad had seen right away how often people tended to underestimate his partner. Even Konrad was sometimes caught off guard by how canny his partner really was. However, it had never before occurred to him that Frank might play to their often foolish expectations on purpose. Now that he saw it, he couldn't help but wonder just how much of the simple blue-collar Irish bull that others saw was an act.
In his own case, Konrad had similar expectations working against him. After all, when people looked at him what they really saw was Richie Conway, the baby-faced rookie. If he attacked his goals with the single-mindedness he planned it was unlikely anyone would take him seriously. A difficult perception to fight, yet it might be possible to try and use it to his advantage.
Food for thought.
"So what do you say?" Frank asked, finally dropping the false face of seriousness to lift a pleading eyebrow.
Konrad sighed. He gave in.
"Yeah. Sure. Okay."
Frank flashed a broad grin. Reaching into his locker he drew out a six pack of beer.
"I thought you might eventually see it my way."
And that startled another laugh out of him. Smiling, Konrad accepted the bottle his partner opened for him. Frank opened one for himself, raising it slightly.
"Sláinte," he toasted, with a grin
"Sláinte is táinte," Konrad returned gratefully.
Richard Conway never did make detective—hell, he never even came close—but years later Konrad could never bring himself to regret it. And he would remember that particular night fondly for a very long time. While no amount of alcohol would ever manage to phase him, for the first time the weight he had carried on his shoulders since losing Sarah and the boys had felt just a little bit lighter.
PREV: Interlude 9 // MAIN // NEXT: Interlude 11
Author's Note: Oh my god, is this a happy memory for Konrad? They exist!
I generally don't like OCs, and this isn't going to be important, but here's a fun bit of trivia:
Francis is the first named OC of any significance to this story. With the sole exceptions of the Ghost and briefly mentioned Sturmman Schneider, every other named character up to this point is part of Castle, Heroes or NCIS canon— Though some are incredibly obscure, and in Konrad's case it's kind of a stretch.
Originally, this character was going to be called Joseph O'Hanlon, but I decided to change it at the last minute. In my head, Konrad's time as Richard Conway is essential to the eventual evolution of Kevin Ryan, so naming this character Frank McNulty (after Javier's original partner from the unaired pilot) just felt right to me.
Additionally, this interlude was born of a particular pet peeve of mine. In general terms, it regards over-emphasizing a character's ethnic background and/or conflating it with a character's cultural background. Which isn't to say such combinations are unrealistic or unlikely (they aren't really), they just bug me when I see them on TV. I could think of several examples, but because I watch a lot of crime shows (er, ship for a lot of crime shows...) this is never so glaring as with an Irish-American cop character, since it is not only incredibly common, but the stereotype goes way, way back.
(And do I have to point out the unintentional hilarity of an Irish detective played by an actor named "Seamus"?)
I like Ryan a lot (when he's not doing stupid things like proposing to the wrong person, hello!), but it always bothered me when they'd play up the Irish, so this is a little bit of a fix-it for me...
Also, it feels necessary in context of the plot since, well... As we now know, Konrad isn't even remotely Irish. So all that had to come from somewhere.
While it would have been cool to have actually posted this on St. Patrick's Day, this scene was planned out ages ago, so it was never really intended to be posted then anyway...
Still, other deadlines I hope to make. *fingers crossed*
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 1,010
Summary: Two weeks after Claire Bennet's televised leap from the Ferris wheel, the 12th handles it's first case delving into the strange world of specials. Evidence points the investigation toward a former Company Agent, a man Noah Bennet would swear up and down doesn't exist.
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full warnings and details in main post.
PREV: Interlude 9 // MAIN // NEXT: Interlude 11
Konrad & Frank—Queens, New York; March 17th, 1960
"Me and Sharon would be happy to have you over any time, Richie," McNulty told him as they stepped into the locker room. "Just you say the word."
It wasn't the first time Konrad's new partner had tried to open their home to him. Actually, it probably wasn't even the tenth. In fact, at that moment they were coming off a very long, very difficult shift, and the topic had arisen at least four times since that same shift began.
"I know, Frank," Konrad said, answering the offer with a polite smile. "And trust me, I appreciate it. I just don't have the time."
The irony of those words did not escape him.
"C'mon, kid," his partner argued lightly. "I know you got your eyes on a shield, but that don't mean you have to put everything else on hold for the job. Trust me, that's no way to live."
Konrad let the diminutive slide with practiced ease. He'd been 'kid' or 'junior' to most of the instructors his entire time in the academy. While it had stung at first, in the end it was something he had been forced to get used to. At least now that he was through it 'rookie' had become much more common.
Regardless, he knew McNulty meant nothing hurtful by it, and the truth was that Konrad was grateful for the offer. In fact, part of him wanted more than anything to accept it. However there was another part of him—a part that was still bruised and hurting—which felt that letting anyone get close was too much of a risk. After all it wasn't much more than a year ago that his life as Dorian Gray had been torn to shreds, and a little less than a year since he had taken a new name.
He had to be smarter about things if he wanted his time as Richard Conway to last...
That meant more than just avoiding attachments. Konrad might only have ten or fifteen years to work with before people began to notice that he wasn't aging. Two years ago that might have sounded like a long time, but Richard Conway was more like Konrad than Dorian Gray ever had been. Conway was an ambitious young man planning his career, and even twenty years might not be enough to get him where he wanted. He would have to make detective young if he was going to make it mean anything before he was forced to move on once again. He had to keep his priorities straight.
Unfortunately, Francis McNulty wasn't likely to give up without a fight.
"A young guy like you shouldn't keep to himself so much," Frank continued, "its downright criminal."
Konrad tried to keep his face impassive as he shucked out of his uniform. He had an inkling where this was headed.
"Criminal," Frank repeated with a dramatic emphasis, "and as an officer of our lovely city's police force, I would be remiss in my duties not to invite you out for a bit of drinking."
As he buttoned up his shirt, Konrad made the mistake of glancing over. He found, to his dismay, that Frank's expression had turned exaggeratedly stern. The man looked absolutely ridiculous. Konrad was sure the effect was completely intentional.
"It is St. Patrick's Day, after all," Frank told him, as seriously as if the drinking he proposed really were required by law. And his face was just as solemn as he tacked the cheap pin to the front of Konrad's jacket.
Looking down at the pin, Konrad let out a faint laugh.
"I'm not Irish," he argued lightly, as if refuting the button's claim might somehow get him out of it. Frank simply tsked.
"Everyone's Irish on St. Patrick's Day."
Konrad couldn't help but laugh at that, shaking his head.
"God, Frankie, I swear you're such a cartoon sometimes," Konrad said. "With your Catholic school schtick and 'gift of gab'—and I'm still not convinced ‘Leprechaun tossing' ain't something you just made up."
While the words might have sounded insulting, they were more of an observation than anything else, and as he half expected Frank simply seemed amused.
"One thing about stereotypes, though, Richie," Frank said with an exaggerated wink, "is that people rarely question them."
Konrad had to admit this was true. They had only worked together for a few months, but Konrad had seen right away how often people tended to underestimate his partner. Even Konrad was sometimes caught off guard by how canny his partner really was. However, it had never before occurred to him that Frank might play to their often foolish expectations on purpose. Now that he saw it, he couldn't help but wonder just how much of the simple blue-collar Irish bull that others saw was an act.
In his own case, Konrad had similar expectations working against him. After all, when people looked at him what they really saw was Richie Conway, the baby-faced rookie. If he attacked his goals with the single-mindedness he planned it was unlikely anyone would take him seriously. A difficult perception to fight, yet it might be possible to try and use it to his advantage.
Food for thought.
"So what do you say?" Frank asked, finally dropping the false face of seriousness to lift a pleading eyebrow.
Konrad sighed. He gave in.
"Yeah. Sure. Okay."
Frank flashed a broad grin. Reaching into his locker he drew out a six pack of beer.
"I thought you might eventually see it my way."
And that startled another laugh out of him. Smiling, Konrad accepted the bottle his partner opened for him. Frank opened one for himself, raising it slightly.
"Sláinte," he toasted, with a grin
"Sláinte is táinte," Konrad returned gratefully.
Richard Conway never did make detective—hell, he never even came close—but years later Konrad could never bring himself to regret it. And he would remember that particular night fondly for a very long time. While no amount of alcohol would ever manage to phase him, for the first time the weight he had carried on his shoulders since losing Sarah and the boys had felt just a little bit lighter.
PREV: Interlude 9 // MAIN // NEXT: Interlude 11
Author's Note: Oh my god, is this a happy memory for Konrad? They exist!
I generally don't like OCs, and this isn't going to be important, but here's a fun bit of trivia:
Francis is the first named OC of any significance to this story. With the sole exceptions of the Ghost and briefly mentioned Sturmman Schneider, every other named character up to this point is part of Castle, Heroes or NCIS canon— Though some are incredibly obscure, and in Konrad's case it's kind of a stretch.
Originally, this character was going to be called Joseph O'Hanlon, but I decided to change it at the last minute. In my head, Konrad's time as Richard Conway is essential to the eventual evolution of Kevin Ryan, so naming this character Frank McNulty (after Javier's original partner from the unaired pilot) just felt right to me.
Additionally, this interlude was born of a particular pet peeve of mine. In general terms, it regards over-emphasizing a character's ethnic background and/or conflating it with a character's cultural background. Which isn't to say such combinations are unrealistic or unlikely (they aren't really), they just bug me when I see them on TV. I could think of several examples, but because I watch a lot of crime shows (er, ship for a lot of crime shows...) this is never so glaring as with an Irish-American cop character, since it is not only incredibly common, but the stereotype goes way, way back.
(And do I have to point out the unintentional hilarity of an Irish detective played by an actor named "Seamus"?)
I like Ryan a lot (when he's not doing stupid things like proposing to the wrong person, hello!), but it always bothered me when they'd play up the Irish, so this is a little bit of a fix-it for me...
Also, it feels necessary in context of the plot since, well... As we now know, Konrad isn't even remotely Irish. So all that had to come from somewhere.
While it would have been cool to have actually posted this on St. Patrick's Day, this scene was planned out ages ago, so it was never really intended to be posted then anyway...
Still, other deadlines I hope to make. *fingers crossed*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: Wednesday, 28 March 2012 08:35 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: Wednesday, 28 March 2012 08:55 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: Wednesday, 28 March 2012 09:31 am (UTC)From:I can't wait to be done with my thesis once and for ALL and write again because this is making my brain tingle more and more every day. (Hence the refraining to read.)
no subject
Date: Wednesday, 28 March 2012 09:53 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: Wednesday, 28 March 2012 11:33 pm (UTC)From:Why can't my job be just reading stuff and commenting? Fanfic critic is a job, you think?
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Date: Saturday, 28 July 2012 10:44 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: Sunday, 29 July 2012 12:29 am (UTC)From:Plus, I wrote this story hoping that people would suspect Kevin as Konrad in advance of the reveal, and the "same initials" thing was meant to be my biggest clue. I think I failed in my delivery, though. I think more people picked up on the handwriting clue than the names.