I would like to see some Harry/Marcome where Maggie (preferably not over the age of twelve) is very much Marcone's little girl, with all that this implies. Show me everything.
Throughout my life, I have been encountered with a number of unexpected events, none of which I would have ever thought would be lain before me.
Harry Dresden.
He was the first.
Tall. Dark. Powerful beyond contestation. But stubborn. Uncontrollable. Uncontainable. A wild fire burning brilliantly against all that would dare to try and restrain him. Even I had tried and failed numerous times to leash him, to make him an asset, a weapon to wield on my enemies. And it was no wonder that the failures drove me to continue to pursue him relentlessly.
So, another surprising event in my life was the day I finally succeeded in doing so. Just not in the way I had imagined.
I found him floundering in the darkness one night, alone and with more alcohol in him than I believe my entire winery would have been able to supply him. Hendricks managed to wrestle him into my limo before he could injure himself, and after a haranguing of petty insults regarding my parentage, a fit of anger that left most of the electronics of my town car incapacitated, and several death threats that involved calling on the fires of Hell to melt me where I sat, Harry Dresden...for lack of better words, broke. Just broke, collapsing onto the floor of the limo, tears rolling into the carpet.
As drunk as he was, it was easy to coax him into divulging what had shattered him so completely. Susan Rodriguez was dead. After over a decade of struggling with her vampiric nature, she had finally given in. And Harry...Harry, as always, did what was necessary. What he thought was right.
So he had killed her. To protect others. To release her. To help all, as usual, but himself.
He could never help himself.
So I helped him. I know. Sometimes I can't believe it either. I'm Gentleman Johnny Marcone, and I decided to help the only man that has the ability to infuriate me. At first, I told myself it was to make him into that weapon I had always desired, but even I knew I was kidding myself. I wanted him. Just him. More than I had ever coveted anything in my entire life. And when things finally tripped over that edge, I was shocked when he followed me. When bantering finally led to frantic kissing, touching, biting. When I looked up to find his dark eyes filled with longing instead of disgust for me, I was shocked.
So shocked that Harry surged up over me, and for once in his life got me pinned to the floor where we made love for the first time.
Yes. All surprises. Harry had certainly made life interesting. But nothing could have prepared me for what came next. It was about four months in. Harry waited until I was too committed to back out lightly before he dropped the news to me.
Harry had a child. A daughter. With the woman he had loved. The woman he had killed. And he was getting her sent here. To Chicago. To live with him. Us, if I was okay with it.
'Stunned' is probably too...weak...of a word to describe how I felt at that moment. But I didn't want to lose Harry. Funny that I had always pursued him as a weapon only to have him become a shield. He had a way of making all of the trials of life seem so trivial in retrospect. And I needed that, I realized. I needed him. So, I said, 'yes'. To everything. To meeting her, to them moving in. To being her stepfather if it came to that.
It did come to that, and I don't regret it.
I remember meeting her the first time. She was about six, and so much like both her parents I could scarcely believe it. She had her mother's looks. Her smoother features and softer mouth. Even then, I could tell she was going to be tall, like her father, and she already had some of his wit. Her skin had more tan than Harry's, but she had his eyes; dark, yet vibrant. And they would smolder when you made her mad.
They were smoldering now.
"Papa!" eight-year-old Maggie demanded, stomping a foot. "You promised!"
I peered at her over a large stack of paperwork with what I hoped was a regretful expression. Things at the office had gone into chaos, as of late. "I realize that," I told her reproachfully. "But I'm very busy today. We can go to the park tomorrow."
"You promised! You promised!" she hollered, stomping her tiny feet.
"Maggie," I barked. "Enough!"
Maggie stopped the fit. But there was no way it was over. She would never give up that easily. Eyes glittering dangerously, Maggie fixed me with her most fierce stare, then took a deep breath and held it.
I let out a sigh. "That's not going to work, Maggie," I told her. Ten seconds. "Just stop it," I said. Twenty five seconds. "I don't have time to go to the park," I demanded. Fifty-five seconds. "Alright, alright!" I snapped, sweeping around the desk and hoisting her up. "We'll go to the park. Just like your father, I swear to God," I murmured.
"Just like your father.I swear to god." Fantastic. Marcone doesn't even get to win against his little girl. Please write more? Pleasepleasepleaseplease? With powdered sugar and chocolate chips on top?
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timeasmymeasure
Maggie Dresden: Mob Princess
Date: 2011-02-18 07:37 am (UTC)Re: Maggie Dresden: Mob Princess
Date: 2011-02-18 08:19 pm (UTC)But she'll also be good with a gun. And a knife. And very protective of her Daddy Harry. Just like Papa is.
Re: Maggie Dresden: Mob Princess
Date: 2011-02-18 10:51 pm (UTC).
My Little Angel 1/?
Date: 2011-02-18 09:30 pm (UTC)Harry Dresden.
He was the first.
Tall. Dark. Powerful beyond contestation. But stubborn. Uncontrollable. Uncontainable. A wild fire burning brilliantly against all that would dare to try and restrain him. Even I had tried and failed numerous times to leash him, to make him an asset, a weapon to wield on my enemies. And it was no wonder that the failures drove me to continue to pursue him relentlessly.
So, another surprising event in my life was the day I finally succeeded in doing so. Just not in the way I had imagined.
I found him floundering in the darkness one night, alone and with more alcohol in him than I believe my entire winery would have been able to supply him. Hendricks managed to wrestle him into my limo before he could injure himself, and after a haranguing of petty insults regarding my parentage, a fit of anger that left most of the electronics of my town car incapacitated, and several death threats that involved calling on the fires of Hell to melt me where I sat, Harry Dresden...for lack of better words, broke. Just broke, collapsing onto the floor of the limo, tears rolling into the carpet.
As drunk as he was, it was easy to coax him into divulging what had shattered him so completely. Susan Rodriguez was dead. After over a decade of struggling with her vampiric nature, she had finally given in. And Harry...Harry, as always, did what was necessary. What he thought was right.
So he had killed her. To protect others. To release her. To help all, as usual, but himself.
He could never help himself.
So I helped him. I know. Sometimes I can't believe it either. I'm Gentleman Johnny Marcone, and I decided to help the only man that has the ability to infuriate me. At first, I told myself it was to make him into that weapon I had always desired, but even I knew I was kidding myself. I wanted him. Just him. More than I had ever coveted anything in my entire life. And when things finally tripped over that edge, I was shocked when he followed me. When bantering finally led to frantic kissing, touching, biting. When I looked up to find his dark eyes filled with longing instead of disgust for me, I was shocked.
So shocked that Harry surged up over me, and for once in his life got me pinned to the floor where we made love for the first time.
Yes. All surprises. Harry had certainly made life interesting. But nothing could have prepared me for what came next. It was about four months in. Harry waited until I was too committed to back out lightly before he dropped the news to me.
Harry had a child. A daughter. With the woman he had loved. The woman he had killed. And he was getting her sent here. To Chicago. To live with him. Us, if I was okay with it.
'Stunned' is probably too...weak...of a word to describe how I felt at that moment. But I didn't want to lose Harry. Funny that I had always pursued him as a weapon only to have him become a shield. He had a way of making all of the trials of life seem so trivial in retrospect. And I needed that, I realized. I needed him. So, I said, 'yes'. To everything. To meeting her, to them moving in. To being her stepfather if it came to that.
It did come to that, and I don't regret it.
I remember meeting her the first time. She was about six, and so much like both her parents I could scarcely believe it. She had her mother's looks. Her smoother features and softer mouth. Even then, I could tell she was going to be tall, like her father, and she already had some of his wit. Her skin had more tan than Harry's, but she had his eyes; dark, yet vibrant. And they would smolder when you made her mad.
They were smoldering now.
"Papa!" eight-year-old Maggie demanded, stomping a foot. "You promised!"
I peered at her over a large stack of paperwork with what I hoped was a regretful expression. Things at the office had gone into chaos, as of late. "I realize that," I told her reproachfully. "But I'm very busy today. We can go to the park tomorrow."
"You promised! You promised!" she hollered, stomping her tiny feet.
"Maggie," I barked. "Enough!"
Maggie stopped the fit. But there was no way it was over. She would never give up that easily. Eyes glittering dangerously, Maggie fixed me with her most fierce stare, then took a deep breath and held it.
I let out a sigh. "That's not going to work, Maggie," I told her. Ten seconds. "Just stop it," I said. Twenty five seconds. "I don't have time to go to the park," I demanded. Fifty-five seconds. "Alright, alright!" I snapped, sweeping around the desk and hoisting her up. "We'll go to the park. Just like your father, I swear to God," I murmured.
Re: My Little Angel 1/?
Date: 2011-03-04 06:14 pm (UTC)Re: My Little Angel 1/?
Date: 2011-03-05 10:23 am (UTC)Re: My Little Angel 1/?
Date: 2011-03-12 10:30 pm (UTC)Fantastic. Marcone doesn't even get to win against his little girl. Please write more? Pleasepleasepleaseplease? With powdered sugar and chocolate chips on top?