I got to Marcone's place and asked to see Hendricks, on the basis that whatever cover they'd got for Marcone, Hendricks would still be looming behind him. I didn't get more looks than usual from the random wiseguys and "associates" waiting for whatever Marcone decreed, but they were different. More dismissive, maybe, and--
--okay, so maybe it was just me, but I was aware of how I looked in a different way than I'd been as a kid; I was skinny as hell, on edge, and going to see a drugdealing scumlord kingpin. The only point in my favour is that I wasn't pretty enough for anyone to think I was there for anything worse. Not that I knew if Marcone or Hendricks went for that anyway.
Gard waved me into the office and she looked the same as ever. Maybe her hair was longer, but nothing obvious. Same as Kincaid, then.
Hendricks was sitting at the desk and Marcone was on a seat next to it, looking like he was taking notes. It was weird seeing them like that, because it seemed wrong -Hendricks should have been looming behind him, Marcone to sit in the big chair and give orders- and because part of me was seeing it like it actually was, and it looked normal. The boss's second in command giving orders to some junior boss, someone trusted enough to be allowed in to the circle, maybe being groomed for a higher position.
"Have a seat," Marcone said. He looked me over and I resisted the urge to shrink back in my coat or cross my arms and glare back at him. "Christ, Raith was right. You're nothing but skin and bones, are you?" he said, sounding faintly disgusted.
I stretched my fingers and let a little flare of power run over them. "There's more to me than that."
He leaned forwards and looked at my hands with interest. I had that same contradictory set of urges, to curl my hands back in my sleeve and avoid notice and to make something burn, make him back off. I didn't listen to either of them,instead turning to Hendricks and saying, "So how are you enjoying being in charge while the boss is what, on vacation? You wanna be careful, Marcone. Maybe he'll start getting ideas above his station." Which was ridiculous, and we all knew it, but Marcone's irritated expression was the only reason I'd said it in the first place. I counted it as a win.
"I'm officially at a meeting elsewhere, but answering my phone," Marcone said. "Fortunately, my people are equipped to cope if I'm unexpectedly absent."
That made sense. Marcone still sounded like himself, more or less. Maybe a touch less measured in his speech, but not anything you'd notice. "And you get to hang around and see how they act when you're not around, huh?"
Marcone raised an eyebrow. "Really, Harry, you think I don't know that already." His expression changed. "Besides, I look too much like myself," Marcone said, sounding disgusted. "The assumption is that I'm a nephew or something. My own younger brother."
"Or a bastard son," I offered helpfully.
He frowned at me, then sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I have seen some people doing some desperate calculations. And getting the wrong answer, judging by their reactions. So..."
"So?"
He looked irritated again and either I was better at this than I thought or he was just more susceptible now. "So I'm assuming you're here for a reason. You've found something out, I take it?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I think... so tell me, Marcone, how are you feeling?"
"you want me to talk to you about my feelings?" Marcone said in disbelief.
I nodded. "Just think of me as a therapist or a priest you wouldn't lie to."
"Frustrated, obviously," he said. "Irritated, but..." he shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. I have more energy than normal, but not an unreasonable amount. No loss of memory, so I'm obviously not actually the age I appear. Fine."
I leaned back in my chair, balancing on the back legs. "Okay, so magic likes a metaphor, okay? It's better at, oh, turning a mother into a maiden than just knocking off ten years. Or turning teacher into a highschool student, that sort of thing."
"Milestones rather than calendars," Marcone said, nodding.
"Ten points to the Mafia Kingpin. Princepin?" I said.
"Get on with it, Dresden," Marcone said.
"Tch, impatient, aren't we?" I grinned, because I thought it would probably annoy him more than anything else I did. "Okay, so it's not so weird that you dialed back to your twenties. Mature dignity to youthful vigour, very Shakespearean. It's not that strange that I'm sweet sixteen again-- slightly surprising that I'm not a little older or a little younger, a young man or an adolescent, but not totally weird, because those are sort of subject to interpretation. But Thomas..."I hesitated. "Thomas isn't different enough and it's really fucking weird, magically speaking, that Kincaid and Gard haven't changed."
"'Really fucking weird'" Marcone echoed. "Is that the technical term?"
"I'm dumbing it down for the non-specialist," I said. Marcone's expression suggested I was a trial he was learning how to bear. "Anyway, doing it like they did isn't impossible, obviously, but it's an awkward way of doing it."
"Really fucking weird," Marcone said, smiling slightly at me, like he was impressed. I felt my face go red and I was glad that I had so much experience avoiding looking anyone in the eyes.
"Right," I said, nodding and looking down. "So, uh. So theoretically, that's why we-- I haven't been able to make it snap it back into place. It's the wrong metaphor, you know? So for it to have worked-- they would have had to establish a base time and then referenced everything to that." I waved at him and almost knocked over a carafe of water on the desk. "Probably you. Like I said, maturity to youthful vigour. I think if we can flip you back to normal, we'll go back to."
He frowned. "You think that's what happened?"
I shrugged. "Don't know for sure. They could have used another base reference, but I didn't see animals back there. That's how I'd do it, chicken into egg. Or maybe not a chicken, maybe something like a parrot that lives longer, but you get my drift."
"I think I do," Marcone said. "But I was the last one through the door, so I don't see why--"
"Ah!" I said, holding one hand up like a pleased teacher. "But you were the last one through the door when it triggered. The rest of us were inside and fine." I smiled, because even when it's true, I rarely have the evidence for it, and said, "so this is all your fault. The fact I've blown practically my week's budget on food in two days, that's all on you."
"Mr Hendricks, can you arrange a suitable compensation for Dresden's food budget?" Marcone said, practically rolling his eyes. "And maybe throw in something extra so he can treat himself?" He smiled at my expression.
"I don't want your money," I said. "And for the record, it's even sketchier, you trying to buy me when I look like I'm sixteen than normal."
Marcone's expression went blank. "You overestimate your appeal in your current state."
I shrugged and started to get up. "Should I be insulted?"
"You should be--" Marcone bit back whatever he was going to say. "So when do you think you'll a solution?"
Good question. "Maybe a few days?" And then honesty forced me to add, "maybe longer, if I need to find someone else to power the spell. I have the know-how, but my control is..."
"Is imperfect at the best of times," Marcone said.
I now have a theory that the spell reset everyone to the age they were when they lost their virginity. That's a milestone! It totally works! And how awesome would it be that Marcone lost his later than the others? Come on now. 8D
It works - except for Gard and Kincaid. I kinda doubt either of them are the type to save it for a thousand years or so, though maybe that's just my love of the Kincaid/Gard fill on DF Kink Meme Part One showing through...
Fantastic, plotty story! With banter! And well, Harry's control is imperfect at the best of times, so maybe being teenager it is simply his default age?
Hmmm. I have a theory that they all got reset to a time near to their experience of a major trauma. Harry is reset to around the period he killed Justin. Marcone is around the age he decided to take over the mob. Something had happened to Kincaid; he mentions a major injury.
I really love the way you explained how magic likes metaphor; it's absolutely intriguing and such a great way of expressing it. Kind of how magic, particularly when concerning immortals and such, doesn't view time the same way--and then, you had to make me love you even more with the 'princepin' joke.
I really hope that you're planning on finishing this. It's so amazing and I love Harry on edge and jumpy and Charity and Michael being protective is making me squee and Marcone--just Marcone! *love*
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timeasmymeasure
Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-05 03:59 pm (UTC)I got to Marcone's place and asked to see Hendricks, on the basis that whatever cover they'd got for Marcone, Hendricks would still be looming behind him. I didn't get more looks than usual from the random wiseguys and "associates" waiting for whatever Marcone decreed, but they were different. More dismissive, maybe, and--
--okay, so maybe it was just me, but I was aware of how I looked in a different way than I'd been as a kid; I was skinny as hell, on edge, and going to see a drugdealing scumlord kingpin. The only point in my favour is that I wasn't pretty enough for anyone to think I was there for anything worse. Not that I knew if Marcone or Hendricks went for that anyway.
Gard waved me into the office and she looked the same as ever. Maybe her hair was longer, but nothing obvious. Same as Kincaid, then.
Hendricks was sitting at the desk and Marcone was on a seat next to it, looking like he was taking notes. It was weird seeing them like that, because it seemed wrong -Hendricks should have been looming behind him, Marcone to sit in the big chair and give orders- and because part of me was seeing it like it actually was, and it looked normal. The boss's second in command giving orders to some junior boss, someone trusted enough to be allowed in to the circle, maybe being groomed for a higher position.
"Have a seat," Marcone said. He looked me over and I resisted the urge to shrink back in my coat or cross my arms and glare back at him. "Christ, Raith was right. You're nothing but skin and bones, are you?" he said, sounding faintly disgusted.
I stretched my fingers and let a little flare of power run over them. "There's more to me than that."
He leaned forwards and looked at my hands with interest. I had that same contradictory set of urges, to curl my hands back in my sleeve and avoid notice and to make something burn, make him back off. I didn't listen to either of them,instead turning to Hendricks and saying, "So how are you enjoying being in charge while the boss is what, on vacation? You wanna be careful, Marcone. Maybe he'll start getting ideas above his station." Which was ridiculous, and we all knew it, but Marcone's irritated expression was the only reason I'd said it in the first place. I counted it as a win.
"I'm officially at a meeting elsewhere, but answering my phone," Marcone said. "Fortunately, my people are equipped to cope if I'm unexpectedly absent."
That made sense. Marcone still sounded like himself, more or less. Maybe a touch less measured in his speech, but not anything you'd notice. "And you get to hang around and see how they act when you're not around, huh?"
Marcone raised an eyebrow. "Really, Harry, you think I don't know that already." His expression changed. "Besides, I look too much like myself," Marcone said, sounding disgusted. "The assumption is that I'm a nephew or something. My own younger brother."
"Or a bastard son," I offered helpfully.
He frowned at me, then sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I have seen some people doing some desperate calculations. And getting the wrong answer, judging by their reactions. So..."
"So?"
He looked irritated again and either I was better at this than I thought or he was just more susceptible now. "So I'm assuming you're here for a reason. You've found something out, I take it?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I think... so tell me, Marcone, how are you feeling?"
"you want me to talk to you about my feelings?" Marcone said in disbelief.
I nodded. "Just think of me as a therapist or a priest you wouldn't lie to."
"Frustrated, obviously," he said. "Irritated, but..." he shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. I have more energy than normal, but not an unreasonable amount. No loss of memory, so I'm obviously not actually the age I appear. Fine."
I leaned back in my chair, balancing on the back legs. "Okay, so magic likes a metaphor, okay? It's better at, oh, turning a mother into a maiden than just knocking off ten years. Or turning teacher into a highschool student, that sort of thing."
"Milestones rather than calendars," Marcone said, nodding.
"Ten points to the Mafia Kingpin. Princepin?" I said.
"Get on with it, Dresden," Marcone said.
"Tch, impatient, aren't we?" I grinned, because I thought it would probably annoy him more than anything else I did. "Okay, so it's not so weird that you dialed back to your twenties. Mature dignity to youthful vigour, very Shakespearean. It's not that strange that I'm sweet sixteen again-- slightly surprising that I'm not a little older or a little younger, a young man or an adolescent, but not totally weird, because those are sort of subject to interpretation. But Thomas..."I hesitated. "Thomas isn't different enough and it's really fucking weird, magically speaking, that Kincaid and Gard haven't changed."
"'Really fucking weird'" Marcone echoed. "Is that the technical term?"
"I'm dumbing it down for the non-specialist," I said. Marcone's expression suggested I was a trial he was learning how to bear. "Anyway, doing it like they did isn't impossible, obviously, but it's an awkward way of doing it."
"Really fucking weird," Marcone said, smiling slightly at me, like he was impressed. I felt my face go red and I was glad that I had so much experience avoiding looking anyone in the eyes.
"Right," I said, nodding and looking down. "So, uh. So theoretically, that's why we-- I haven't been able to make it snap it back into place. It's the wrong metaphor, you know? So for it to have worked-- they would have had to establish a base time and then referenced everything to that." I waved at him and almost knocked over a carafe of water on the desk. "Probably you. Like I said, maturity to youthful vigour. I think if we can flip you back to normal, we'll go back to."
He frowned. "You think that's what happened?"
I shrugged. "Don't know for sure. They could have used another base reference, but I didn't see animals back there. That's how I'd do it, chicken into egg. Or maybe not a chicken, maybe something like a parrot that lives longer, but you get my drift."
"I think I do," Marcone said. "But I was the last one through the door, so I don't see why--"
"Ah!" I said, holding one hand up like a pleased teacher. "But you were the last one through the door when it triggered. The rest of us were inside and fine." I smiled, because even when it's true, I rarely have the evidence for it, and said, "so this is all your fault. The fact I've blown practically my week's budget on food in two days, that's all on you."
"Mr Hendricks, can you arrange a suitable compensation for Dresden's food budget?" Marcone said, practically rolling his eyes. "And maybe throw in something extra so he can treat himself?" He smiled at my expression.
"I don't want your money," I said. "And for the record, it's even sketchier, you trying to buy me when I look like I'm sixteen than normal."
Marcone's expression went blank. "You overestimate your appeal in your current state."
I shrugged and started to get up. "Should I be insulted?"
"You should be--" Marcone bit back whatever he was going to say. "So when do you think you'll a solution?"
Good question. "Maybe a few days?" And then honesty forced me to add, "maybe longer, if I need to find someone else to power the spell. I have the know-how, but my control is..."
"Is imperfect at the best of times," Marcone said.
Couldn't argue with that.
Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-05 04:25 pm (UTC)Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-05 05:28 pm (UTC)Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-05 05:39 pm (UTC)OP Here
Date: 2011-03-06 01:26 am (UTC)WriterAnon Please? :D
*Really loving how Harry still loves irriating Marcone.*
Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-06 08:14 am (UTC)Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-06 08:35 am (UTC)Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-05 07:05 pm (UTC)Me liketh your story! :)
Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-09 04:11 pm (UTC)Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-09 06:54 pm (UTC)Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-10 07:55 pm (UTC)Re: Fight or Flight 5
Date: 2011-03-20 11:38 pm (UTC)I really hope that you're planning on finishing this. It's so amazing and I love Harry on edge and jumpy and Charity and Michael being protective is making me squee and Marcone--just Marcone! *love*
Hope to see more of this!