Who: Ellie & Maggie What: Ellie tries to make amends. Meanwhile, Maggie still hasn't learned how to "yes, and–." When: Wednesday, 21 March 2000 (before the Dragon Party, after training) Where: Pride Clubhouses Warnings: Language.
Self reflection was hard. Self actualization was worse. And yet here Ellie was dealing with both. That match yesterday had gone well, minimal injury and short. It was the sort they needed ahead of the Neep. And with the Neep and post-season, there was going to be a lot of face time with Maggie in the weeks ahead. Hopefully Hell Week had prepared them for this. They seemed to have a decent working relationship, but after Merc’s conversation at the book launch there was that seed of doubt.
Ellie knocked at the door, a symbolic gesture perhaps, but she wasn’t going to enter Maggie’s realm without invitation. “Maggie, do you have a few minutes to talk?”
Maggie had been similarly pleased with the results of the day before (and smug when she saw Montrose in the stands... now they knew how it felt!), and it hadn't slowed her down. When Ellie knocked she was curled up on the sofa in her office with potions references spread out over the coffee table and a Muggle medical journal in her lap, obviously in the middle of some heavy cross-referencing. She called, "Come in," before she looked up to see who it was, then froze the tiniest bit when she heard who it was.
But it was fine — their interactions had been perfectly cordial and she had no reason to suspect anything worse was at play.
Closing her notebook on the journal to save her page, she motioned at an empty armchair and simply said, "Aye."
Ellie took the seat offered. She was hyper aware of her body, and even how she left a path of easy escape for Maggie, if came down to that. Fuck, if this was her life now… “Since Christmas, I have been doing a lot of work. And well, reflection.” She could do this. She needed to do this. Although as she was also learning, just because she needed something didn’t mean that was true for others. “I want to say I am sorry if I have ever made you feel unsafe at work.”
Maggie'd expected to discuss Pip's last concussion, or Pepper's broken nail from yesterday. Not... apologies. Frankly, she'd figured there was some unspoken agreement to assume that Ellie would never apologize, and that Maggie never expected her to.
What was she supposed to do? Have a heart-to-heart?
She bit her lip, tapping the back end of her highlighter on the cover of her notebook and simply replied, "Cheers."
Ellie had no more patience for a heart-to-heart than Maggie did, but the apology was long overdue. “And I am sorry for the ways in which my actions over the winter made your job more difficult or put you in an unwanted position.” Maybe she should have just left as quickly as she entered. The ‘cheers’ could indicate an agreement, acceptance. Except the word sickness kept coming. “I would hope that you could even...that you could see that those are not just words, but also reflective of actions.” Only no, that was back to making this about her, and it was, but it also wasn’t. Ellie was going to prove she was better, and not play the victim card. She earned her lot. She would dig herself out too.
“You’re a great medic. I appreciate what you bring to the team. What’s coming next is a more drawn out, slightly less intense Hell Week until finals. I am going to need that Maggie voice telling me what is braw and what is not.” Ellie almost chuckled, but there was that prospect of hives over appropriate adult things, just after she decided she didn’t want a heart-to-heart.
Maggie didn't want to be having this conversation. She didn't want the spectre of Ellie-Who-Might-Fuck-Everything-Up-Again hanging over her afternoon; she wanted to be doing her work. But, again, Ellie had found a way to prevent that. And, fuck, again she wasn't sure how she was expected to respond.
The annoyances and angers that peppered Maggie's work life as of late, coupled with her opinions on the hierarchy and how the team was run, had already reached a breaking point. Hell, she'd signed up for her healer exams on Friday — she knew she was done with the Pride. But her exhaustion from the last couple of weeks only exacerbated how she felt, and now Ellie was sought atonement?
Maggie... was done. With all of it.
And if today was suddenly Fucking Opposite Be Honest Day, then she'd be fucking honest. And because, all of a sudden, nothing could stop her from it.
She looked Ellie in the eyes, cold, and said the thing she'd been wanting to say for far too long but had decided against it (until now) because it could burn her career. But she no longer cared, at least not in that moment. "I don't think you should have been allowed back to work." She took a moment to let Ellie process, shifting the pile of work from her lap to the table, before she continued in a measured—if severe—tone.
"I think the presence of someone who's acted violently toward colleagues is detrimental for trying to build a cohesive staff. I think someone who has attacked those beneath her shouldn't be allowed to hold a position of power. I think that you should have been suspended from your post until you're confirmed to be back in a healthy place, not while you're getting there, because as long as you're using the team to regain a sense of normalcy, you're a danger to those around you." She hadn't realized when her back had straightened so much, or when her gaze flirted with a glare, but... there it was: the speech that she'd rehearsed countless times in her own head, the one she never thought she'd have a chance to say. "A danger to those I'm responsible for."
Ellie meet that look, not with any fire, but with resignation. “Well, you wouldn’t be alone in thinking any of that.” How many times had Ellie offered to tender her resignation before Vienna?
More importantly nothing that Maggie said was untrue. “My healers would not have approved my return if I posed a severe danger to myself or my colleagues.” Not to mention the potion regime balanced her out, slowed her down to actually think. (And also to sleep more than she wanted, and have zero appetite during the day.) “Am I 100% better? No. There is a good chance that might never happen. Which is why Bart is here. Which is why I have been delegating. And trying to diffuse any power or authority I might nominally have.”
"I ken," Maggie replied, noting the use of 'severe danger,' "I ken all of it." She'd said her piece — what she'd been wanting to say since Ellie returned three months ago. She should feel better than this, but she didn't; she still felt angry at Ellie, and at the rest of the staff for coming up with this plan to let her recover in-house. "It doesn't change that I don't think you should have been allowed back, and it doesn't change that your apologies aren't worth a knut."
And there she was, evidently persona non grata here as well. It wasn’t entirely unfair. It just made things more difficult if everyone still saw her as how she was back in December. Ellie knew she was different. She felt different. The best she could do was keep trying.
“Well, for better or worse I am here for the rest of the season.” And she needed Maggie, needed their medic. So she switched into that same mode she had with Cav. Assuming the worse Ellie came with a plan. “In case it wasn’t clear. I will be deferring to you for all player clearances and lineup decisions sign offs. I also want you to feel able to call players off pitch — at any time. I would like to work with you to support any rehab or recovery plans. To this extent I am hoping to send you any and all training plans at least a week ahead of time for your review.”
Maggie still got the distinct impression that her time was being wasted. She picked the highlighter back up just for something to do with her hands, turning it over in her palms and twisting the cap idly. "You just told me you'll allow me to perform my job."
“I am asking you to practice at the full extent of your training. More so that you know that I do not see myself as above you. Another MacDonald situation will not happen.” Ellie moved to stand up. In order to be braw, it was probably time to retreat. “I would have liked for us to be equals, but…” She sighed. There was no good way to end that sentence. “Well, honestly, you’re too good to be my equal. And I do appreciate your work with the team despite, well, despite me.”
It took a couple moments for Maggie to respond. All she wanted was for Ellie to stop pointing out the obvious and to leave her office. Fuck, she wanted to get the hell out — to flip over the coffee table, to apparate home and put on her runners and sprint as far the fuck away as she could make it until her legs ached and she couldn't breathe anymore, and then to turn around and do it all over again.
She glanced down to find that her hand around the highlighter had begun to shake from the effort of not doing anything, and she squeezed it tighter to will that away.