Fic: 'The Band Played On' (Sanctuary (webseries), gen, G, 1/1) Title: The Band Played On Fandom: Sanctuary Characters: Helen Magnus, Will Zimmerman Word Count: 511 Rating: G Spoilers: Takes place sometimes between 1-4 and 5-8. Challenge: Leap for Prompts (9/29): Sanctuary Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary: Helen likes her new assistant.
The Band Played On
Helen found Dr. Zimmerman in the library, slumped over a table with his head buried in open book pages, and swallowed a smile. He was settling in well enough, had made only two references to the 'overwhelming weirdness' of Helen's job that day.
Helen dimmed the lights a little. Her instincts as a doctor warned against the ambient lighting in so spacious a room, doing no one any favors as they bent over rare and often ancient texts, but she couldn't deny the romantic, mysterious appeal of the room's design. Given that she would likely be the one occupying the building for the next century or so, she felt it only fair that she be the one who had a say in its decor.
Zimmerman snuffled and shifted slightly, but didn't awaken. His glasses had fallen askew, lying lopsided, but still pressed between his head and his pages. Helen peered curiously over his shoulder; it was a psychology text she did not recognize. Perhaps one from his own collection. He was certainly more than welcome to add it to the library.
She eyed him speculatively. He lacked the same gung-ho nature that Barney had possessed, but he was adjusting. Or would be, once he got over his unnatural hang-up with regards to her butler. The notion amused Helen. Dr. Zimmerman could handle men with two faces, scaly mutants who scaled walls, and a race of beings that could well be the merfolk of legend, and yet Helen's own manservant made his eyes roll back in his head. This was clearly a deep-seated issue, yet the only person on her staff capable of dealing with it was Dr. Zimmerman himself.
"Mrph," murmured Zimmerman, his head lifting. He blinked wearily, took a moment to adjust his glasses and then adjust his mind. "Dr. Magnus," he acknowledged. "Did I fall asleep?"
"On top of your books," she offered.
"Haven't done that since med school. What time is it?"
"A little after two o'clock."
Zimmerman's brows lifted. "And you're still awake?"
"There is always something to be done. Perhaps a little too much for a staff the size of ours. We're very grateful for your assistance, Dr. Zimmerman."
"Uh, yeah. It's a lot to take on. Some of this stuff I haven't..." He gestured at his book, at a loss for words. "I'm going to need some time to adjust."
"Not too much, I hope. Your talents are needed."
"Talents. Right..." Zimmerman sighed, ran a hand through his hair. "Is there someplace I can crash, maybe? I'm kinda beat and I won't get much done this way. I guess I could head back to my place, if the trains are still running..."
"There's always room for those who need it," she reassured him. "I have a room made up. You may recall it from your first visit here."
"Right, nice bed. Okay. Thanks." He gathered up his books and shuffled towards the door tiredly as Helen watched. He was definitely an interesting individual, one that she thought would provide considerable amusement in the coming months.