I suppressed the urge to growl when Marcone entered my office with Cujo following close behind.
"What do you want?" I asked with the same tone I used to tell people to fuck off and die. It didn't deter Marcone. He gave me an infuriatingly pleased smile instead, as if my bad manners existed solely for his personal entertainment.
He pulled the seat in front of my desk and sat down without asking for permission. "Good morning, Harry. How are you?"
"That's Miss Dresden to you, scumbag. What do you want?" My magic prickled beneath my skin, fueled by my anger. He had the power to enrage me like few people did. The candle on my desk flared to life, startling him for a second. He recovered quickly, but the fact that I'd managed to surprise him at all was a victory in itself. I relaxed back on my chair, not bothering to hide the smirk on my face.
"I want to contract your services," Marcone said in a flat tone.
"Didn't we have this conversation before?" I pretended to think about it. I waited a second or two for dramatic pause, before adding, "Yeah, I distinctly remember telling you that I won't work for you. Ever."
"Miss Dresden," he said patiently.
The formal use of my name caught my attention. Marcone almost never bothered with it. I called him a criminal scumbag; he called me Harry; Hendricks hovered disapprovingly in the background. Don't ask. I didn't get it myself half the time, but it was how we worked.
Him calling me Miss Dresden meant trouble, big trouble, the kind that I wouldn't -- couldn't -- ignore, even to spite him: children, women, Chicago. With my life sucking as much as it did lately, probably all three combined.
"Fine," I grumbled. "What do you need from me?"
"Some of the girls under my protection have gone missing during the last days," he said, looking me in the eyes.
It still fucking irked me that he could do that. It was a reminder that he had tricked me before and would again, if I didn't keep up. "Fine, some of your hookers wised up and decided to give you the middle finger. All the more power to them; I don't see how that is my problem. Don't you have pimps to take care of that for you?"
His lips tightened. Cujo took a threatening step closer and that, more than anything, made me relax. I gave both of them the smarmiest smile I could muster. "Hit a nerve there?"
"Miss Gard was convinced that something supernatural was behind the disappearances," Marcone continued, ignoring my remark. "She went to investigate and hasn't reported back since."
I straightened up, my little power games with Marcone forgotten. Gard and I weren't friends but I kind of liked her, despite her questionable taste in employers. "When was she supposed to report back?"
"Twelve hours ago," Marcone said.
"Hell's bells!" I cursed. Gard was powerful. Anyone with enough juice to keep her subdued for so long was not to be taken lightly.
"I take it you're interested in the job then?" Marcone said, giving me a smug smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Fuck off, Marcone," I said. Sometimes I just couldn't help myself. I'd blame genetics, but... "You know my standard fees: fifty dollars an hour plus travel expenses. Oh, and you'll pay for all collateral property damage, too." I added, feeling mean. That'd teach him to make stupid remarks about his insurance premiums next time.
"Of course, Harry," he said, looking too pleased with himself.
"Don't call me Harry," I snapped. It was the principle of the thing.
"Whatever you say, Harry." His smile broadened.
My fingers ached with the desire to send a weeny, tiny burst of fire in his direction. Nothing too bad, just enough to remind him that I was a wizardess, and Baron or not, he should fucking show me the necessary respect. Then again, I was a grown-up wizardess and such childish displays of temper were beneath me.
Mostly.
"All right, tell me everything you know," I said, focusing back on the problem at hand.
"That'd take far too long, and to be truthful, Harry, I don't trust you that much. You wouldn't be able to handle all that I know." His lips quirked.
I rolled my eyes. Sometimes dealing with Marcone wasn't any better than dealing with a faery. "Very funny," I groused. "Everything you remember about the disappearances would be useful right about now."
"Right, here's a file with the information that Miss Gard gathered before she, too, went missing," he said. On cue, Cujo stepped closer and handed me a thick manila envelop.
I peeked inside. It was filled with handwritten notes and personnel files of the missing girls. I leafed through one, appalled at the depth of the information inside. "You know that it's extremely creepy that you know the names and addresses of each of these girls' boyfriends, right? Aren't there laws against this?"
Marcone shrugged. "There are laws against many things; it never stopped me before."
Mafia kingpin, right. It wasn't as if I didn't know that, and yet it was remarkably sobering to hold proof of it in my hands. "For the record, turning down your job offer was the best thing I've ever done in my life," I told him.
Marcone smiled. "Susan Rodriguez and Thomas Raith," he said, watching me.
"What?" I asked, frowning at the non sequitur.
"The names of your exes," Marcone said. "I know their current addresses, too. You really don't think that I limit my investigations to just my employees, do you?"
My mouth fell open for a moment. Seriously, the galls of... Then my mind caught up with what he had just said. Thomas? For real? I laughed out loud, realizing that for all his stalker-ish behavior Marcone was just as easily misled as anybody else. "Johnny, baby, what you don't know about me can fill a library."
He frowned. I could practically see the wheels turning inside his head as he tried to update his mental file on Harriet Dresden, wizardess and eternal pain in Marcone's ass. My reaction had surprised him. He had probably been expecting me to go off the deep end at his little revelation.
I made a mental note to screw with Marcone's head more often. Just thinking about it put me in a good mood.
In case I haven't mentioned this before, fire is my element. A certain penchant for playing with it comes with the territory. I just can't help it, really.
Right, missing girls. Missing Gard. Concentrate on the job at hand, Harry girl, I told to myself.
I turned to Marcone, interrupting his thoughts. "This conversation has gone long enough. The door is over there. I'm pretty sure that you have a bunch of things to do, people to kill, girls to stalk, drugs to sell. Time's a wasting. I'll contact you if I need something. Now, chop, chop, I have a case to investigate."
Marcone stood up, and Cujo moved aside, falling into place behind him.
"Remember that for the duration you're working for me, Miss Dresden," Marcone said. "Do keep me informed."
"Sure thing, darling," I said absently, already busy spreading the files over my worktable, trying to find something in common between the missing girls, other than the obvious, of course.
I sensed the moment Marcone left the office, a slight telltale easing of the wards protecting it. I wasn't completely alone yet, though. I looked up, curious as to why Cujo was lingering behind. It wasn't like him.
"Miss Dresden, a word of advice," Hendricks said, when he caught me looking. "Don't make the boss more curious about you than he already is. It's just not healthy." He nodded at me and stepped outside, closing the door.
The hell? As veiled threats went, it wasn't one of the best I'd received. Seriously, if Cujo thought that being all menacing would make me stop pissing off his mafia overlord, he needed to read Marcone's secret file on me more carefully. My days of trying to be an obedient little girl ended when I set Justin on fire. But that wasn't neither here nor there.
I had missing girls to find. The fact that Gard would owe me for this wasn't too bad either. And if I was truthful with myself, I kind of liked not having to worry about next month's rent. Marcone was a scumbag, but he paid on time.
---------------------------------------
Dear OP, sadly I'm unable to write PWP, which is why I just gave you 1.4k worth of words and no one is even thinking about taking off their clothes yet. I will get them there... eventually. I hope you don't mind the wait.
General author note: I want to come out and confess that this is my first attempt at writing in this fandom, and I haven't read all the books. I hope I don't screw canon too much in the process, but feel free to tell me if I do; I'd actually appreciate it. Also, English isn't my mother tongue, so please forgive the unavoidable typos and quirky use of grammar.
Dear OP, I just wanted to let you know that the updates will be slower in coming (mostly during the weekends). I have currently a work-related project that is eating my life and makes it almost impossible to write during the week :( I hope you don't mind. Sorry!
Screw the OP. I'm loving this. Keep it up. It looks like you've got a great story brewing.
I love "Johnny, baby, what you don't know about me can fill a library." and "Don't make the boss more curious about you than he already is. It's just not healthy." Very IC.
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timeasmymeasure
For a price 1/?
Date: 2011-03-06 10:53 pm (UTC)"What do you want?" I asked with the same tone I used to tell people to fuck off and die. It didn't deter Marcone. He gave me an infuriatingly pleased smile instead, as if my bad manners existed solely for his personal entertainment.
He pulled the seat in front of my desk and sat down without asking for permission. "Good morning, Harry. How are you?"
"That's Miss Dresden to you, scumbag. What do you want?" My magic prickled beneath my skin, fueled by my anger. He had the power to enrage me like few people did. The candle on my desk flared to life, startling him for a second. He recovered quickly, but the fact that I'd managed to surprise him at all was a victory in itself. I relaxed back on my chair, not bothering to hide the smirk on my face.
"I want to contract your services," Marcone said in a flat tone.
"Didn't we have this conversation before?" I pretended to think about it. I waited a second or two for dramatic pause, before adding, "Yeah, I distinctly remember telling you that I won't work for you. Ever."
"Miss Dresden," he said patiently.
The formal use of my name caught my attention. Marcone almost never bothered with it. I called him a criminal scumbag; he called me Harry; Hendricks hovered disapprovingly in the background. Don't ask. I didn't get it myself half the time, but it was how we worked.
Him calling me Miss Dresden meant trouble, big trouble, the kind that I wouldn't -- couldn't -- ignore, even to spite him: children, women, Chicago. With my life sucking as much as it did lately, probably all three combined.
"Fine," I grumbled. "What do you need from me?"
"Some of the girls under my protection have gone missing during the last days," he said, looking me in the eyes.
It still fucking irked me that he could do that. It was a reminder that he had tricked me before and would again, if I didn't keep up. "Fine, some of your hookers wised up and decided to give you the middle finger. All the more power to them; I don't see how that is my problem. Don't you have pimps to take care of that for you?"
His lips tightened. Cujo took a threatening step closer and that, more than anything, made me relax. I gave both of them the smarmiest smile I could muster. "Hit a nerve there?"
"Miss Gard was convinced that something supernatural was behind the disappearances," Marcone continued, ignoring my remark. "She went to investigate and hasn't reported back since."
I straightened up, my little power games with Marcone forgotten. Gard and I weren't friends but I kind of liked her, despite her questionable taste in employers. "When was she supposed to report back?"
"Twelve hours ago," Marcone said.
"Hell's bells!" I cursed. Gard was powerful. Anyone with enough juice to keep her subdued for so long was not to be taken lightly.
"I take it you're interested in the job then?" Marcone said, giving me a smug smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Fuck off, Marcone," I said. Sometimes I just couldn't help myself. I'd blame genetics, but... "You know my standard fees: fifty dollars an hour plus travel expenses. Oh, and you'll pay for all collateral property damage, too." I added, feeling mean. That'd teach him to make stupid remarks about his insurance premiums next time.
"Of course, Harry," he said, looking too pleased with himself.
"Don't call me Harry," I snapped. It was the principle of the thing.
"Whatever you say, Harry." His smile broadened.
My fingers ached with the desire to send a weeny, tiny burst of fire in his direction. Nothing too bad, just enough to remind him that I was a wizardess, and Baron or not, he should fucking show me the necessary respect. Then again, I was a grown-up wizardess and such childish displays of temper were beneath me.
Mostly.
"All right, tell me everything you know," I said, focusing back on the problem at hand.
"That'd take far too long, and to be truthful, Harry, I don't trust you that much. You wouldn't be able to handle all that I know." His lips quirked.
I rolled my eyes. Sometimes dealing with Marcone wasn't any better than dealing with a faery. "Very funny," I groused. "Everything you remember about the disappearances would be useful right about now."
"Right, here's a file with the information that Miss Gard gathered before she, too, went missing," he said. On cue, Cujo stepped closer and handed me a thick manila envelop.
I peeked inside. It was filled with handwritten notes and personnel files of the missing girls. I leafed through one, appalled at the depth of the information inside. "You know that it's extremely creepy that you know the names and addresses of each of these girls' boyfriends, right? Aren't there laws against this?"
Marcone shrugged. "There are laws against many things; it never stopped me before."
Mafia kingpin, right. It wasn't as if I didn't know that, and yet it was remarkably sobering to hold proof of it in my hands. "For the record, turning down your job offer was the best thing I've ever done in my life," I told him.
Marcone smiled. "Susan Rodriguez and Thomas Raith," he said, watching me.
"What?" I asked, frowning at the non sequitur.
"The names of your exes," Marcone said. "I know their current addresses, too. You really don't think that I limit my investigations to just my employees, do you?"
My mouth fell open for a moment. Seriously, the galls of... Then my mind caught up with what he had just said. Thomas? For real? I laughed out loud, realizing that for all his stalker-ish behavior Marcone was just as easily misled as anybody else. "Johnny, baby, what you don't know about me can fill a library."
He frowned. I could practically see the wheels turning inside his head as he tried to update his mental file on Harriet Dresden, wizardess and eternal pain in Marcone's ass. My reaction had surprised him. He had probably been expecting me to go off the deep end at his little revelation.
I made a mental note to screw with Marcone's head more often. Just thinking about it put me in a good mood.
In case I haven't mentioned this before, fire is my element. A certain penchant for playing with it comes with the territory. I just can't help it, really.
Right, missing girls. Missing Gard. Concentrate on the job at hand, Harry girl, I told to myself.
I turned to Marcone, interrupting his thoughts. "This conversation has gone long enough. The door is over there. I'm pretty sure that you have a bunch of things to do, people to kill, girls to stalk, drugs to sell. Time's a wasting. I'll contact you if I need something. Now, chop, chop, I have a case to investigate."
Marcone stood up, and Cujo moved aside, falling into place behind him.
"Remember that for the duration you're working for me, Miss Dresden," Marcone said. "Do keep me informed."
"Sure thing, darling," I said absently, already busy spreading the files over my worktable, trying to find something in common between the missing girls, other than the obvious, of course.
I sensed the moment Marcone left the office, a slight telltale easing of the wards protecting it. I wasn't completely alone yet, though. I looked up, curious as to why Cujo was lingering behind. It wasn't like him.
"Miss Dresden, a word of advice," Hendricks said, when he caught me looking. "Don't make the boss more curious about you than he already is. It's just not healthy." He nodded at me and stepped outside, closing the door.
The hell? As veiled threats went, it wasn't one of the best I'd received. Seriously, if Cujo thought that being all menacing would make me stop pissing off his mafia overlord, he needed to read Marcone's secret file on me more carefully. My days of trying to be an obedient little girl ended when I set Justin on fire. But that wasn't neither here nor there.
I had missing girls to find. The fact that Gard would owe me for this wasn't too bad either. And if I was truthful with myself, I kind of liked not having to worry about next month's rent. Marcone was a scumbag, but he paid on time.
---------------------------------------
Dear OP, sadly I'm unable to write PWP, which is why I just gave you 1.4k worth of words and no one is even thinking about taking off their clothes yet. I will get them there... eventually. I hope you don't mind the wait.
General author note: I want to come out and confess that this is my first attempt at writing in this fandom, and I haven't read all the books. I hope I don't screw canon too much in the process, but feel free to tell me if I do; I'd actually appreciate it. Also, English isn't my mother tongue, so please forgive the unavoidable typos and quirky use of grammar.
op Re: For a price 1/?
Date: 2011-03-06 11:05 pm (UTC)Re: op Re: For a price 1/?
Date: 2011-03-15 11:39 pm (UTC)I hope you don't mind. Sorry!
Re: op Re: For a price 1/?
Date: 2011-03-16 01:20 am (UTC)There are not enough hours in one week anymore.
Re: For a price 1/?
Date: 2011-03-06 11:05 pm (UTC)I love "Johnny, baby, what you don't know about me can fill a library." and "Don't make the boss more curious about you than he already is. It's just not healthy." Very IC.
Re: For a price 1/?
Date: 2011-03-06 11:36 pm (UTC)Write as much as you like! I know I have no objections to a story I can sink my teeth into.