Ms. Joanna Harvelle, Civilian
Part 5 of the SULFUR Division
Spoilers: As AU as this thing is, it still has slight spoilers for W/OaT season one and SPN 'In My Time of Dying.'
Summary: There's a sub-division of the FBI called the SULFUR Unit. They hire some familiar faces and hunt down the supernatural within the greyer boundaries of the law all over the United States. This allows them to interact with some of my other favorite TV procedural dramas.
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. I'm playing in both universes.
"Deputy Director, your next appointment is here," Victor Fitzgerald's secretary was a welcome distraction from his paperwork.
"Thank you, Margaret. I'll be right out." Victor stood and stretched before anyone could see him. As he walked to the door, he couldn't remember who this appointment was supposed to be.
When he opened the door, a very young woman stood, not using the plain manila folder in her hand as an unconscious, symbolic shield. It was more than most her age could do, but she wasn't just anyone.
Joanna Beth Harvelle.
Margaret smiled calmly. "Deputy Director, you remember Ms. Harvelle." It wasn't a question, since he had approved the coinciding days off so that most of the SULFUR Unit could attend her high school graduation party last weekend. Victor should have seen this coming, but hadn't.
"Ms. Harvelle, please come in."
Harvelle preceded him into the office. Victor hung back long enough to quietly ask Margaret, "How long has this meeting been in the books?"
"She called six months ago."
Definitely should have seen this coming, but he tried to forget the existence of the SULFUR Unit when it didn't directly concern him. Victor had never been one to run or hide from his problems, so he followed Ms. Harvelle and closed the door behind them.
Harvelle smiled and handed him the folder.
"Sit." And she sat. Like any number of female agents before her, she was dressed soberly and professionally. Ellen Harvelle wore jeans and a t-shirt most days if she thought that she could get away with it. When Victor examined Jo Harvelle, he realized that she must have taken dressing tips from Dr. Dana Scully. She either asked directly, or she had been watching Scully for a while. Joanna didn't quell under his direct gaze, but then again, her mother ran a tight ship despite the personalities in her department. One couldn't be a shrinking violet in that position.
Finally, he drew his attention away from the girl to the folder. She had started her own FBI employment history. She had recommendations from the agent in charge of the firing range, though it wasn't as glowing as Winchester's had been at this point, and one from Agent Singer.
Singer's, too, wasn't embellished or enthusiastic. Rather it was one line: She put together seven patterns on her own. It took a special kind of person to put together SULFUR patterns. She had included her high school transcript: all A's.
"Ms. Harvelle," he started. "You're eighteen."
"There is a precedent," she cut in. She had thought this through and she was determined not to whine, 'but Dean did it.' One part of Victor respected that. The other part winced at Ellen's opinion of this disaster would be.
"In that precedent, the person in question had been an unpaid and unacknowledged partner to an active agent for two years," Victor reminded.
Joanna raised an eyebrow; everyone knew that Dean Winchester had been in the hospital several times starting at the age of fourteen.
"Despite your assistance in SULFUR's research department, you don't have comparable field experience."
Joanna challenged him. "We both know that you need as many SULFUR agents as you can get your hands on and that I did a d… fine job recruiting Ava to the FBI. I'm good at this. What hoops do I have to do to get the badge?"
Victor nodded at her straight-shooting, something she learned from her mother and not from eavesdropping in the halls of the FBI building. "A four-year degree. Every agent has one, or comparable experience. From you, I want a degree and then I'll send you to Quantico." She'd be there four years earlier than most of her fellow students, but it was a compromise that he knew that she would accept.
"Does it have to take me four years to get the degree?" She pushed for even less time. It was a sign of a good agent. Victor was reminded of the post-secondary classes that she had taken and aced. If she followed her current track, she could easily graduate in two and a half to three years.
"Yes," he said. "But should an event like Ava happen again before that time, the FBI would be willing to pay you per case."
She stared at him and realized that this was the best deal she was going to get. She nodded once and then smiled. "Can I get that in writing?"
Victor smiled grimly. At this point, he really didn't want to lose her to anyone else, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "I presume that you already scheduled a follow-up appointment."
"I'll have Margaret type it up in the meantime."
She stood and held out her hand. "Thank you, sir. I won't take up any more of your busy schedule."
Victor shook her hand and escorted her out the door. He might have sighed a little when she was out of sight. He had managed what her mother had not, pushing off the inevitable for four more years.
He wasn't sure that Ellen would thank him for it, or shoot him.