Oooh dear. Da hast du was losgetreren!
How about 82 for Meredith Babygirl Vickers?
✨️Midalas unhinged Prometheus prompts✨️
You should be with me
Meredith Vickers x Reader Words: 2,5k Crossposted on Ao3 A/N: Thank you for your prompt request, I had a lot of fun writing for Meredith and widening my pool of characters! I hope you'll like it!
Meredith Vickers strode through the halls of the USCSS Prometheus - back impossibly straight, hands clasped behind her, radiating the pride of a CEO from one of the most powerful corporations on Earth. Which, of course, she was.
At first, you didn’t think much of it, how she always seemed to materialize in places you hadn’t expected her to be. That was until you noticed the way her gaze always seemed to find you. And linger.
It started the morning you were all woken from cryosleep - stumbling into the mess hall, still groggy and sore, gulping down those awful protein shakes, trying to fill a stomach that had been empty for over two years.
And then there she stood. In the doorway. Wearing that immaculate grey suit, blonde hair bound into a sleek bun at the nape of her neck. Steely eyes staring at you. Only you.
Her brows were furrowed, her jaw tight - yet, you couldn’t quite decipher what emotion simmered beneath that expression.
And it kept happening.
Walking to the gym hall and taking a seat in one of the rows arranged for the mission briefing, you began to realize this wasn’t a one-time thing.
“For those of you I hired personally - it’s nice to see you again. For the rest of you…”
Her cold eyes found yours as the words left her mouth, and you held her gaze, refusing to back down from whatever game this was.
“I’m Meredith Vickers. And it’s my job to make sure you do yours.”
The looks she threw you from her place beside the projection of Sir Peter Weyland - cold and composed, like some Snow Queen carved from glass - weren’t even the worst. It was when she moved that it really got to you.
She stepped away from her spot, gave Shaw and Holloway their stage, and began to pace. Slow, measured steps behind your row of chairs, the sound of her heels echoing faintly on the floor.
Like a predator circling prey.
And all the while, you felt her gaze burning between your shoulder blades, causing goosebumps to flare on your skin.
Concentrating on the presentation that was currently being held was nearly impossible... something about Engineers?
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She found out that you had been hired as a Toxicologist. But not by her. No, your invitation came directly from Peter Weyland himself. In fact, she hadn’t even known you were on board until the morning you woke from cryosleep.
It annoyed her.
Of course her father had done something without telling her. Of course he’d passed over her, like it wasn’t important for the director of the voyage to know who was on her ship.
Who are you? Why are you here? Why didn’t he tell her about you? Why were you kept secret?
What did he know and keep for himself? And probably for that forsaken tin can called David.
For what purpose would the crew need a toxicologist?She understood the need for the geologist. Even the biologist - dumb as they might be. But you? What was her father expecting to find here, besides those savages who scribbled on cave walls?
She had considered inviting you into her quarters, just as she had done with Shaw and Holloway. A tactic, nothing more. A way to reassert her position after that humiliating moment when the old man declared in that hologram:
“As far as I'm concerned, they're in charge.” Two strangers. Not his daughter. Not his CEO.
She’d planned an interrogation. Something quiet. Controlled. But in the end, she decided against it.
Still, her gaze never left you.
That’s why she saw it, heard it. How you seemed to be the only scientist on this mission with a functioning brain, actually earning your doctoral degree.
When the others took off their helmets, you warned them. You kept yours on. Yes, the air was breathable, but you made it clear: that didn’t account for unknown bacteria or microscopic pathogens the system couldn’t trace.
She noticed the way your hand twitched, like you wanted to grab your hair in frustration when the biologist crouched and touched the new lifeform without hesitation. When he plunged his hand straight into the black, viscous liquid you hadn’t even begun to analyze. No tests. No protocols. Just reckless, infantile curiosity.
You were the first to run back to the ATVs when she announced she would seal the outer doors in fifteen minutes because of the upcoming storm, the first to arrive at the hangar. She couldn’t quite hide the pleased little smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
The captain nudged her shoulder and she glanced at him, brow arching sharply - but he just winked at her. “Someone got a crush?”
Meredith froze. Gaped at him. Then turned on her heel without a word. She didn’t have something as childish as a crush, and certainly not on you. She didn’t even know you.
(Not that she would ever admit this might be the very reason why one was starting to form.)
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“So. Are they all dead?”
Ah. You were right. It’s her.
“What, who?” Dr. Shaw asked beside you, as if it wasn’t obvious that Vickers meant the aliens. Truth be told, you ignored their little verbal sparring match - too focused on that thing. No one else seemed remotely concerned about how dangerous this situation could be. Unknown planet, unknown atmosphere - and you were the only one wearing a damn mask. As if an EMT and a trained archaeologist shouldn’t know better.
David got a pass - he was an android. He didn’t even need those gloves that already looked far too thin.
And when you asked why they weren’t being careful, they just shrugged. The air was clean, they said. As if that was enough.
Then you saw the scan. And your stomach dropped. Oh no. “That’s not an exoskeleton,” the redhead exclaimed, voice rising. “I think it’s a helmet!”
You jumped back immediately, putting as much distance as possible between yourself and the head on the table.
There were enough documented cases of archaeologists - over 200 years ago - who died after unearthing mummies without proper protection. Back then, people blamed it on a Pharaoh’s curse. You weren’t about to be the idiot who died from an alien curse.
The whole treatment of this situation was outright horrifying.
You moved towards the equipment cabinet, your mind racing, your pulse ticking in your throat. As you turned, your eyes locked with Vickers - again. Her gaze was already on you. Again.
The others wouldn’t listen. But maybe she would. She wasn’t a scientist. She couldn’t be expected to know better and you wouldn’t let her walk into a knife. Maybe it was the way she kept watching you, maybe that's why it felt worth a try.
From the cabinet you pulled a fresh FFP3 mask and a face shield, secured your own, then stepped up to her. For the first time, you truly acknowledged and interacted with her.
“There’s a very high probability these remains are dangerous,” you said, offering her the equipment. “I strongly advise you to wear protection to avoid exposure to anything harmful. Grab a lab coat, just to be safe – but keep your distance either way.”
Her brow twitched, almost imperceptible, but she inclined her head and unclasped her hands from behind her back. She took the gear. And, to your surprise, she actually put it on without a question.
Hallelujah. (Even David was surprised that she actually followed something resembling an order that didn’t come from their father.)
Everything after that was chaos. Pure hazard.
Something inside the 2000-year-old decapitated head moved? Let’s ram a stem line into its locus coeruleus - because that seemed like a good idea!
Once again, no one stopped to think about containment. About freezing it. About bringing it back to Earth with proper equipment and actual professionals.
Of course you were excited – this was massive. A breakthrough, for fuck’s sake! But it was being handled so, so wrong. Maybe you should ask Vickers to stop this and– Did its eyes just open?
Black, dead eyes stared straight back at you. Specks of white scattered across them like stars in the galaxy surrounding you. It was so beautiful – and terrifying.
Your survival instincts had apparently left you as well, because you couldn’t tear your gaze away from that ashen grey face. Convulsing. Bloating. Black blood leaking from its temples.
“David, contain it!” Dr. Shaw yelled. You stood frozen. You hadn’t moved – not until someone yanked you back by the arms, just as the platform the head rested on was moved into a clear box.
“Contain it? Turn it off. Now!” The voice of the person who’d pulled you back snapped through the room. Their grip didn’t ease, even as the contamination chamber sealed shut.
The head inside burst. Green fluid and dead skin splattered against the thick glass, obscenely sliding down. The sound made you flinch – wet, heavy, sickening. It snapped you out of your daze. You turned and saw that the person holding onto you was none other than Vickers herself. Opening your mouth behind your mask to thank her, your words caught in your throat as you heard the doctor’s next words.
“Ford, (Y/N), take a sample. Let’s have a look.”
You laughed. Sharp. Disbelieving.
“I’m not opening that box or going near it on this ship. Forget it.” You turned to the door, shaking your head. “How the fuck have you not died at one of your previous excavations? That’s a mystery to me. I don’t care if I get paid less or fired, but I won’t be responsible for this thing wiping out the crew.”
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Mad. That’s what she should have been. You were here to follow instructions – and you didn’t. You openly defied them. But why did that actually feel… good?
You shared her vision.
Meredith hadn’t wanted this voyage. She didn’t see the point. The old man had thrown them into bankruptcy to chase after a fantasy – this useless mission, which seemed to only house danger.
So they’d found a pyramid full of corpses. A decapitated head that exploded. Okay. Great. Now could the ship please turn around?
Of course not.
Weyland had to find his ‘creators’, so they could save his life and turn him into a god. He was over a hundred now. It was time to let go. Time to let her reign instead.
But no – he clung to power. He would rather burn everything down, throw every last coin of his empire into the fire just to chase the ghost of immortality.
She couldn’t go against his orders. David would carry them out – like the good son he was. Always obedient. Always perfect. Always better. His perfect creation. Screws and metal – apparently more important than his own flesh and blood.
She sneered.
She shouldn’t, but she respected your standpoint. Perhaps you were the only one on this ship she could actually understand. And perhaps – you were the only one who could understand her in return.
That’s why she now stood in front of your door and rang.
You opened the door for her, one brow raised at her unexpected appearance. A sigh followed, heavy with recognition, your eyes flicking across her face.
“If you’re here to scold me, don’t bother. I won’t continue working on that biohazard.”
The corner of Meredith’s lips twitched upward before she could stop it. A smile? Almost. She nodded slightly, gesturing past you with her chin.
“May I join you?”
You hesitated, glowering for a moment – which she noted was rather cute. Wait. What had she just thought?
“Sure, boss.”
Ah, so you did know she was your superior after all.
Stepping inside, Meredith let her gaze sweep across the room and your memento’s before claiming one of the armchairs without hesitation. She crossed her legs, leaned back with practiced elegance as if she owned the place.
Which, technically, she did.
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Fuck, she looked hot sitting there with her chin slightly raised. She wore a black bodysuit you hadn’t seen her in before, her usually tightly pulled-back hair hanging in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her face.
Without even realizing it, you shook your head, trying not to think of her like that, and took a deep breath to brace yourself. There had to be a reason she was here.
But before you could open your mouth to ask the dreaded question, she raised a hand, halting you.
“I’ll let you in on something.” She gestured to the armchair across from her - an invitation. You hesitated for a heartbeat, then sat down, awkwardly shifting from side to side to get comfortable.
“Calm down, Doctor. I’m not here to reprimand you. In fact-” Her lips twitched into something between a smirk and a grin. “I agree with you.”
That was... unexpected. The shock must’ve been plain on your face, because the Snow Queen herself smiled, and not cruelly, either.
“I’m going even further,” she said, tilting her head. “Seeing you with them made me realize you should be with me.”
What was happening? Meredith Vickers - the woman who stared you down like an apex predator ever since you met - was praising you. And… what exactly was she proposing?
“Mrs. Vickers, I-”
“Please,” she interrupted smoothly. “As long as we’re alone… Meredith suffices.”
You swallowed, still not quite believing what you’d just heard - was she flirting with you?
“You want me… to transfer or something?”
Meredith looked at you like you were one of the chemicals under your microscope. Interesting, worth to be observed closer.
“No. I want you close.”
She paused. A flicker of vulnerability crossed her face, the ice melting - if only for a second.
“I want you to keep an eye on me. Like you did in the laboratory.”
She rose, stepping towards you. Slowly. Deliberately. When she stopped in front of you, her arms hung loosely by her sides. Open, not closed off.
“You’re smart. Focused on survival while the others stumble from one lightheaded decision to the next. I’m impressed.” A small pause. “Even if the bar is quite low.”
You almost pouted, but there was no malice behind her words. Her eyes glinted, lips curving into one of those rare, subtle smiles as she lifted a brow in amusement.
Then, she leaned down, planting her hands on either side of your chair. Her breath was warm against the shell of your ear.
“So if you want to be with me…” A casual flick of her hand toward the corridor. “My room. Ten minutes.”
And with that, she straightened, turned on her heel and strutted out of your quarters - black suit hugging every motion, hair swaying gently at her back.
You sat frozen, slumped in your chair, face burning, eyes locked on the door she just went through.
And then your brain caught up with the moment. You shot to your feet and dashed into the shower - there was no way you were going to say no.
