Fish of Oblivion
RPM
Stryder BC
PrinceAlexus
rush99999
xVampire3go
Stargazer6225
Jinxxed
PalmerEldritchDr. Ellie Price
Elinor didn’t rush to fill the silence.
She hovered just around the doorway, hands loosely folded, weight settled comfortably on one foot as Erin watched her; the assessment-type stare she’d learned to clock over years of working with bureaucratic stifflips. She didn’t bristle under it. If anything, she softened. Shoulders eased to signal the familiarity.
At the quip about water, Ellie let out a quiet breath of something like a laugh. Soft in that Welsh country girl way, worn smoother by years in gritty London society.
“Mm,” she agreed lightly. “Fair. We better start drinking water as a morning routine, then.”
She listened while the report was read aloud. Didn’t interrupt. Didn’t fidget. The words landed, like they always did, framed in a one-sided assessment that brokered no input from the good doctor herself. Mostly because she refused to. A pick your fight attitude.
At ‘incapable’ Ellie tilted her head, just slightly.
“I don’t think that was quite it,” She said, gently with an apologetic smile that was sweeter than it meant to be. “I just… didn’t agree.”
There was a pause, head searching for the correct phrasing. Quickly abandoned. Perfectionism a mild irritation she only ever dumped into her written word. “The additional material didn’t change what I saw,” She added. “And I didn’t feel comfortable pretending it did.” Her eyes met Erin’s, steady without challenge.
“I know that makes me difficult.”
When the report was set aside, Ellie’s attention followed it for only a second before returning to Erin. She listened as the director spoke of MI5, of bending rules, of Rogue Row. Of not selling out. Ellie didn’t smile at the praise. But something in her expression loosened — a quiet relief she didn’t quite let surface.
“I didn’t expect you to agree with me,” she said after a moment. “About the case, I mean. It’s… nice to be believed.”
As Erin rose and moved closer, Ellie shifted instinctively to give space, though she didn’t retreat. When the finger pointed at her, at the discarded report, she didn’t flinch. “I won’t change how I work. I can explain it. I can defend it. But I can’t make it say something else.” A small, wry huff escaped her at that, barely there.
“I’ve tried.”
The train thundered overhead, dust shaking loose. Ellie blinked, then smiled faintly at the interruption, glancing upward. “Dramatic timing,” she murmured.
At Erin’s gesture toward the door, Ellie nodded easily, stepping aside to let her pass. Their shoulders brushed, Ellie instinctively pausing, murmuring a quiet, “Sorry,” out of reflex rather than necessity, before following at an unhurried pace. She hovered near the coffee machine as it sputtered to life, hands loosely clasped again.
“You did use the descaler,” she noted, warmth threading her voice. “That’s a good sign.”
Her gaze drifted over the empty desks, thoughtful rather than wistful. “I don’t need much,” Ellie said, not looking directly at Erin. “Just room to be accurate. And not to be asked to smooth the edges off things that shouldn’t be smooth.”
“If that’s all right,” she added, quietly.
And she waited. Not stiffly, not expectantly. Simply present, as though she already knew she could stand here without being moved.
