Realistic or Modern Empire City: The Irish Mob - Bonus Scenes (Closed)

[BasDorcha]

All Jazzed Up
6 Friday, 1985
Maeve Thatcher​

Music for the post:

Just when May had decided he must have been busy with work, an understandable situation of course, her eyes found Christian in the crowd, and she lit up like a candle in the dark. The smile across her face blossomed as she got more into the music. Winking at her musical accompaniment, they took over playing the piano part and she stood up taking the stage, now ready for putting on a real show. Under the lights on the stage, she shimmered like a daimons as the light reflected off her. Her pressed red lips smiled a perfect smile, scanning the audience once again before settling on her guest.

“My love must be a kind of blind love, I can't see anyone but you and dear, I wonder if you find love an optical illusion, too?,” She slowly walked the stage while she sang, her hips swaying to the rhythm as her heels had the desired effect. As she neared the end of the stage, she walked down the stairs slowly, making her way through the crowd, her showmanship on point as she sang to women and men equally. She slowly made her way to Christian, completely forgetting about Josh being in the audience.

Sliding up to him, she leaned over, grabbing his ties and pulling him close for a brief, sexy like personal singing, her hand sliding down from the knot to the end, off and out onto his knee, before she gave him a personal wink and turned to walk off, singing on, “Are the stars out tonight? I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright cause I only have eyes for you. The moon may be high, but I can’t see a thing in the sky, cause I only have eyes for you.”

In front of her, Josh moved to block her route, and the fear in her back to him was instant. Her shoulders froze, her back stiff, her hand clenching at her side. Trying to hold her performance she took a single finger and pushed him back, trying to slide past. His hand came out and she flinched as he made a grab for her ass. May smacked the hand away, shaking a finger in his face as her voice took a similarly shaky tone to it.

“I don’t know if we’re in a garden, or on a crowded avenue. You are here, so am I. Maybe millions of people go by, but they all disappear from view, and I only have eyes for you.” May got a few steps away before the guys hand snacked out and grabbed her elbow, jerking her back as she mic fell from her hands. Immediately she spun around, performance off, and slapped him. In retaliation his hand raised, ready to hit her.

 

[Misty Gray]

All Jazzed Up
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 6th September 1985

Christian Brooks​

Christian could see the way May's face lit up when she caught sight of him. He couldn't help but find it quite endearing even if he wasn't sure why she was so attracted to a simple man like himself, not when he thought her day-to-day life involved more attractive and adventurous men. A smile remained etched on his face as May left the band to take over the piano so she could get up to sing to the audience in the club. Only, as she walked through the crowd and picked up members of the crowd to sing to directly, the way she then made her way towards Christian somehow made him feeling like she was singing just for him.

When May leaned in and grabbed his tie, Christian cheeks immediately flushed a deep shade of red, his face only getting warmer as she slid her hand down to his knee. His heart raced in his chest but he was quickly able to compose himself to return the woman's wink and a flash her a suggestive smile. Had it been a stranger, he was sure he'd have remained unaffected, perhaps even stoic to the personal attention, but this was May and she was there igniting feelings he already had for her.

May then walked away to return to performing for everyone, Christian taking a moment to have a long drink of beer and cool himself down. He looked back up to May to see a man blocking her route, though at first he thought it was all a part of the performance. However, when he saw the man try to touch her inappropriately and May then smack his hand away, he knew the situation was entirely unwanted. He slowly stood up, watching as May continued her performance, but she was clearly disturbed by the altercation.

Josh made the mistake of grabbing May's elbow, prompting Christian to rush towards the pair. As the microphone hit the floor, May slapped the sleazy man. Just as Josh raised his hand to hit her, Christian grabbed his wrist and harshly pulled the his arm behind his back to disarm him. With his free hand, Christian grabbed the back of Josh's neck and slammed his face down on the nearest table, the couple occupying it rushing to their feet to get out of the way. The sound of Josh's face hitting the wooden table and knocking the glasses over was enough to block out the sound of the man's wrist snapping as Christian forcefully pinned his arm behind his back. "You broke my fucking arm!" Josh shouted out in pain.

Despite hearing the man's painful yell, Christian looked directly to May. "Are you okay?" he asked her, still pressing down on Josh's neck and arm to keep him in place. After a brief pause, he slowly released Josh, albeit prepared to strike again if called for. "Keep your filthy hands off of her, you piece of shit," Christian warned, his voice calm yet deeply assertive. With his focus on May and Josh, Christian wasn't aware of the two policemen approaching.

 

[BasDorcha]

All Jazzed Up
6 Friday, 1985
Maeve Thatcher​

May flinched, waiting for the pain to hit her, only it never did. When she opened her eyes, Christian was standing there, Josh in hand. Tears shimmered in her eyes but did not fall as she watched the man deal a deft justice to him. The blush and sexy smile he had given her mere seconds ago were gone, and already she missed them, but there was something more going on right now. Without realizing it, May had clenched her legs together, a warmth spreading through her that brought a flush of her own on. He was defending her and damn if it wasn’t the sexiest thing she had ever seen. A small gasp escaped her lips, her body stepping back and out of the way without needing to be told. A second later, the man was flattened on the table and unable to move, shouting that his arm was broken.

The snap she heard confirmed it, but she didn’t care. He deserved it for what he had done. She had already warned him before that she would take matters into her own hands if he kept harassing her, she just never figured anyone else would help her with it. The adoration in her eyes as she watched Christian would have been visible to anyone who looked, even without trying to read her. When his eyes landed on her, a flustered and warm May nodded, clearing her throat, “Um, yes, I am now.” Her voice was soft, satiny as she spoke to him as if something intrusive and creepy hadn’t just taken place.

May gulped, looking about quickly. She spotted Donald, then the cops. Concern flashed across her face as she made eye contact with the bar owner, silently indicating for him to stop the police men for her. Donald, knowing that May wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important – she never asked favors – cut through the crowd, stopping the cops along the way. He greeted them, sweet talking them, letting them know his bouncer was taking care of the issue there was no need to worry themselves. He guided them back to the bar, offering them each a drink. When Donald’s eyes found May again, he gave her a reassuring nod, confident he’d resolved the issue for a moment.

Josh, thinking Christian was distracted, began to squirm as May confirmed she was alright. A moment after she did so, he was released, May stepping closer to Christian unconsciously. Josh turned and spit, hitting May in the face as he growled out a threat. “Fucking whore, your mutt here just cost you your life, I promise you that. If I can’t have you, no one will. I hope you’ve had fun sleeping around, because when this is over, you’ll be chained to a bed for use whenever I want.” May flinched, face paling as her hand raised to her lips in shock. She had known Josh was a creep, but she had not know how much. Fear clenched her as her head grew dizzy. Had he really just said, in a room full of people, that he was basically going to make her his personal whore, or else kill her?

“Christian… Maybe we should leave, the back door is just beside the stage…” May’s voice was strained now, her throat constricted with fear, her heart racing.

 

[Misty Gray]

All Jazzed Up
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 6th September 1985

Christian Brooks​

Christian caught May's eyes as she signalled for Donald to distract the police officers. Despite knowing his former colleagues could be on site, it did nothing to concern him in the moment. Josh was the one in the wrong, so he wasn't worried about any consequences of him subduing the man - albeit with some force.

Christian looked to May as she moved closer to him, right when Josh spat in her face. The act in itself disgusted Christian enough for him to want to retaliate. Then, when the man called May a whore and began to threaten her, the former detective couldn't stop the anger that began stir up inside him. The man's warnings about chaining May to a bed and alluding to sexually assaulting her was more than enough to trigger Christian's own memories. He'd never forget the day he attended a crime scene to find Jodie - a friend and former ex - lying lifeless on the hotel bed. The sex worker had been raped and murdered. A man had done as he pleased with Jodie with no regard for her, only for the police to then show little interest in the crime on account of her profession. It was the main reason Christian left his career and it would haunt him for the rest of his life. Now, to hear Josh threaten and speak so offensively towards May set Christian on edge. The thought of any woman being threatened in such a way was sickening, but for it to be the woman he now cared most about made it even worse.

Christian heard May suggest they should leave, but he couldn't act on it. Instead, he swung his arm, his knuckle forcefully crashing against the side of Josh's nose, the cracking sound a clear confirmation of the broken bone. Once again, he grabbed Josh's wrist and twisted the already fractured bone, no doubt drawing a pained cry from the filthy bastard. Grabbing Josh's shirt collar, Christian pulled the man closer, punching him in the gut and causing him to double over so he could then drag him down on the floor and onto his back. Kneeling down with his right knee pressing into his ribs, Christian gripped the man by the chin, forcing him to look directly to him. "You're not going to do anything to her..." Looking up, Christian saw the people around them watching on in shock, bringing him back into his surroundings. With the sound of the commotion, the police were now keen to approach and see what was going on. "You're fucked," Christian hissed, quiet enough for only Josh to hear. He had little faith in the police to deliver justice to the bastard, but that didn't mean there weren't other resources available in London. Considering May's relationship to the Kings, he had every intention of making them aware of the man who had just threatened her.

With the police approaching, Christian stood up, allowing Josh to breath again now his chest was no longer being knelt on. Turning to May, Christian sent her an apologetic look. Whilst he'd acted to defend her, he could only imagine how off-putting and scary his show of violence might be to her. "I'm sorry... Are you okay?" he asked her. He heard one of the cops ask him in an accusatory tone what had happened, but for the moment Christian was only interested in answering to May.

 

[BasDorcha]

All Jazzed Up
6 Friday, 1985
Maeve Thatcher​

May watched as Christian laid into Josh again, biting back a groan that tried to escape her mouth. Beside her, another gentleman gave her a tissue to wipe her face, gently guiding her back with a light touch on her arm in case Josh and Christian started to come her way, he seemed willing to make sure she was still protected, which he was grateful for, because May could not stand up to these men the way they were going at it. The man’s wife moved to her other side, helping to protect her as well. The tears were falling now as she felt loved by two strangers, and even more so by the man before her. In an instant, May knew she was in love, in love with Christian, and the news that she was waiting to confirm felt a little less straining. She wasn’t ready to tell him, she wanted to make sure she was right first and not worry him over nothing.

There was a sort of satisfaction she didn’t know was possible watching the man get the living shit kicked out of him, and something incredibly attractive about watching the man she was with do it in her defense. A steady blush had spread from her cheeks to every in of her body as she watched the creep who had been tormenting her since she started at the Mercury finally dealt with. Christian broke his nose, taking advantage of his broken wrist to inflict more pain. In a flash, Christian had him on the floor, pressing his chest so tight with his knee that the man struggled to breath. The people around gasped, but from an outside perspective, it sounded more like amazement at the show than fear. Maybe she was just bias. May didn’t need to hear what Christian said to Josh, she read his lips clear as day, the heat on her face increasing tenfold. No one had ever protected her before, not like this, no one had ever cared enough.

With everything that had happened with Tom betraying her, her heart had been dark and depressed for days. Coming out today was just her attempt at making it better, hoping to draw Christian around so she could smile again. This was no where in the plans, but if she had thought before that there was any chance he was just seeing her for extra curricular activities, this display made it apparent she was probably wrong, and she couldn’t be happier despite the circumstances. As he stood and turned towards her, she rushed him, throwing her arms around him just as the cops walked up on them. Her tears streaked her face, and thankfully enough people around them had heard what happened to defend Christian without admitting a single thing he did.

“Officer… He was just protecting me. This man here threatened to-to…” Her lip trembled, her voice failing. Christian finished filling in the story, May also filling in the previous issues she had with the man. They looked at Christian, as if trying to decide if their story was true, but a moment later Donald joined the group, confirming that May had been a performer tonight and Christian had been assigned as her personal guard for the show as they had heard someone might come causing trouble. She had to remember to thank Donald again later.

“Unfortunately, unless he actually does something illegal, we can’t take him in. You on the other hand… If he chooses to press charges, you and your history wont give you the protection you think it will.” One of them said to Christian. May narrowed her eyes, but before she could say anything, Josh stood up, spitting blood on the floor. “No, that’s fine officer, no need for that. Just two men, doing what men do.” He gave them both a sickening look, thanked the officers and headed for the front door. The officers shrugged, turning to Donald. “How about those drinks now Don?” May had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t the last she would see of the man, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.

Finally, it was just them again, people starting to move around back to themselves, May grabbed Christian’s hand and pulled him out the back door, closing it behind her. The moment they were closed off from the people in the bar, the noise, the panic the scene inside made her feel, May in a moment of rare confidence, grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him to her, kissing him deeply as she pressed as close to him as she could. The kiss lingered, May unwilling to pull away too quickly. When she finally did, she pressed her forehead to his, her eyes closed and took a deep breath. She held it as she tried to find the courage to say what she wanted to say. “Christian… I think I’m in love with you.”

 

[Misty Gray]

All Jazzed Up
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 6th September 1985

Christian Brooks​

When May rushed at him, Christian wrapped his arms tightly around her and gently stroked the back of her head. "You're alright, lassie," he said, his accent momentarily sounding more Scottish than it usually did. He pulled away to look to the policemen as some of the witnesses spoke up to defend his actions. Granted, he may have gotten a little carried away, but he didn't regret anything he'd done to Josh and still considered himself to be in the right.

Christian stayed silent as May spoke up to defend him, his eyes all the while fixed on the cops to read them. He already knew what they would say regarding her accusations about Josh. He'd seen it all first hand when he worked for the Met Police and they often ignored warning signs because it was too much paperwork or effort for a case that would amount to nothing anyway. He'd long since learned not to put his trust and faith in those paid to uphold the law. "Of course," Christian muttered in exasperation. He then narrowed his eyes at Josh as the man spoke up and played down the attack as just two men just having a typical fight. He caught the sickening look Josh sent him but in the presence of the cops, he didn't act on his urge to lay into the sleaze again.

Christian allowed May to lead him out the back. "Listen, May..." he began as they walked. "I'll speak with Bruce and Spencer; get them to have someone keep watch--" he began, about to suggest requesting security on account of not trusting Josh was going to let it drop. Instead of being able to finish, he was caught off-guard when May grabbed his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. Christian returned the gesture with the same level of passion, running his hands down from her shoulders to rest on her lower back as she pulled away. He smiled as she leaned her forehead against his, also closing his eyes for a short moment. However, he opened them again when she told him she thought she was in love with him. "You do?" he gently asked. He moved his head back so he could look at her properly and process what she'd said. He cared a lot about May and he was getting closer to her each day. Still, he didn't feel like he'd reached the point of being in love with her yet. He knew it took him longer to get to that point and he didn't want to rush into saying he loved someone. He certainly didn't want to say it if he didn't yet feel it completely. "May, I..." he began, his cheeks getting warmer by the second. "I'm really enjoying spending time with you, getting to know you and dating. I think you're amazing and beautiful... It's too early for me to tell you I love you, but I would like us to keep doing this. I want to get closer to you," he assured her. Of course he was in no way saying he wouldn't love her, but he just couldn't say it yet without being at all dishonest.

 

[BasDorcha]

All Jazzed Up
6 Friday, 1985
Maeve Thatcher​

A shiver rushed through May as she recalled his accent, but even more so when his hands found their way from their shoulders to her lower back. Her head felt dizzy with the wave of feelings that was washing through her, the rush of fear dissipating in his arms and replaced with a warmer, stronger feeling. After she spoke and pulled away, she couldn’t quite look up at him, her eyes facing down towards their feet. He leaned back and looked at her with a look that said he was unsure she knew what she was saying. She could feel his eyes on her as she glanced back up to look at him before stepping back just a bit to give him proper space.

The moment he began speaking she felt like she had made a big misstep. He didn’t love her, and he wasn’t sure if she truly loved him. It made her heart break a little, taking the initial joy she had felt and making it feel small and empty. She tried her best to put on a brave front, giving him a weak smile as she unconsciously put more space between them. May had never told someone she loved them before, not except her brothers. In fact, she wasn’t sure she ever told her mother she loved her, maybe as a child, but that ended when she started being treated worse by the woman.

Nodding, she cleared her throat and tried to look as normal as possible. “I-I understand, of course, you don’t have to say it back. It was probably just the adrenaline of the situation anyways. It’s much to soon for anything as silly as that.” She took a few steps away and headed back towards the front, but from around the building. “Um, how about a ride home? I think I’ve had enough excitement for the night, wouldn’t you say?” She hoped he would at least oblige her that before he let things get too awkward. Once at the car, she would wait and crawl in with a smile but silence. Once they neared her house, she turned to him, swallowing down her fear and nerves.

“Um, there’s this fancy dress thing that Darcey was talking about. She said I could come, if I wanted… But I don’t want to go alone. Maybe if you’re not to busy, or put off after tonight…you’ll come with me?”

 

[Misty Gray]

Spencer King's House
& Bruce King's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 1st May 1981

Spencer King​

Having had a morning full of official business meetings, Spencer was glad to finish early and get back home in the afternoon. As soon as he stepped into the house, he was greeted by his wife ironing one of his formal shirts for him. He looked curiously at her as he wondered why she would be ironing a shirt, partly because he was capable of doing it himself and partly because he wasn't working at the weekend. Waiting for her to set the iron safely down, he put his arm her and placed a kiss on her cheek, neither of them making a move to kiss each other properly. Stepping away, he loosened his tie and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt, as if to relieve himself from how suffocated his business suit made him feel. Sitting on the sofa, he was about to speak before he noticed his wife was sporting a disapproving expression on her face. "Didn't you have an appointment at the barbers today?" she pointedly asked.

Running hair hand over his head, couldn't help but glare back at her. "Had to cancel as important business came up last minute. Besides, I decided I'm growing it again, so I'm good with it like this. Is that alright with you, Your Majesty?" he sarcastically asked her. He then pointed to the ironing board. "What are you doing that for?"

"What am I doing this for? Oh, maybe because my parents are coming over for lunch tomorrow, or did you forget?" Letitia asked, clearly annoyed by Spencer's lack of enthusiasm.

Spencer was quick to get up to his feet, not appreciating her raised voice. "They're coming to my house to eat some fucking food. I don't have to wear a suit for that. Jesus, Letitia. It's just lunch and they're your parents - there's no need to roll out the red carpet." Before Letitia could respond and no doubt proceed to belittle his own family, Spencer held out his hand as if to stop the argument before it could kick in. "You just do what you've gotta do. I'll dress smartly and play along, if it'll make you happy. Really, I'm looking forward to feeling like dirt around your family. But for now, I'm going to get changed and head over to Bruce's. I'll eat while I'm there."

"Spencer, please be back at a reasonable time. We need to be up early in the morning," Letitia asked him. After letting out a sigh, she beckoned him towards her and placed a kiss on his lips. She then brought her hand to his chin and ran her thumb along his jawline. "Are you going to shave in the morning, darling?"

Spencer rolled his eyes at her before shaking his head in disapproval. "No. I've decided I ain't bringing a razor anywhere near my face for a while." He then pointed towards the staircase. "Anyway, we're not starting this shit again. Right now, I'm going upstairs, getting changed, and then I'm out of here for a bit," he simply told her, fighting the urge to enter into a slanging match with her about her desperate need to please her parents.

*****​

Spencer parked his outside Bruce's house, glad to be away from Letitia for a few hours even if he expected much of that time would be spent talking business with his uncle. He knocked on the front door to alert the occupants of his presence but didn't wait before letting himself into the house. It was his family's home, after all. "Bruce, are you in?" he called out as he peered into the empty kitchen. It had registered with him that Bruce's car wasn't parked outside, so no doubt the man was still out. "Harper?" he called out, figuring his sister was likely home. He switched on the kettle before making his way into the lounge and sitting down on the sofa as he waited for the water to boil. Reaching forward, he picked up a couple of baby photographs that were set down on the coffee table. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the pictures of two-month old Callum. Although Alex and Savannah had separated before the boy was born, the Irish woman was still close with the Kings and no doubt Bruce or Harper had been babysitting recently. Spencer wanted to have his own kids one day, but Letitia didn't share his sentiment, so he at least made a point of making sure he was always around as Callum's uncle.

When Harper joined him in the lounge, he sent his sister a warm smile. "Are you good?" he asked her, taking a moment to study her face in case she looked troubled. He briefly rubbed his forehead as he tried to forget about his bitter exchange of words with Letitia. "What've you been up to? When do I get to watch you on stage?" he asked, referring to her interest in the theatre.

 

[Bellz]

Bruce King's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 1st May 1981

Harper King ​

Harper's feet were sore from the amount of dancing she had done at rehearsal today and her voice felt like it was raw. Harper had been going through vocal lesson after vocal lesson in preparation for a lead role that she would have rather not had. Being Mary Poppins wasn't exactly her favorite thing in the world but, it did let her have some fun that she really hadn't had in a long time. The amount of smiling she had to do was a bit annoying, making her cheeks hurt when she sang. Harper had just plopped her purse down and moved to the bathroom to wash the heavy makeup off of her face.

When she dried her face off with a towel, Harper heard Spencer calling her name. "Spence?" The blonde called back as she walked down the hall towards the lounge. She was still in her dancing shoes and tights, with a pair of shorts and a Queen band t-shirt that was easy to move in. When she found him, he wore a warm smile which she returned. He asked if she was good, and she noticed he was studying her face. "I don't have any makeup left on me right? I swear to god I've scrubbed my face at least a dozen times trying to get it off." The woman huffed before moving to sit down on the sofa. "I'm okay..."

Harper stared at her brother openly as her eldest brother rubbed his forehead. He was doing that a lot these days, she had noticed. Harper had watched her fun-loving brother take a nose dive ever since he married that witch he was with. For a while Harper had been forced to keep her mouth shut, knowing that anything she said would probably just upset him or he just wouldn't take her seriously because of her age...but it was becoming too much to bear.

The blonde opened her mouth to speak, wanting to ask if he was alright but he beat her to the punch, asking what she had been up to. "Had a 7-hour long rehearsal for my senior project at school. Feet are aching, throat is sore...but in the best of ways." She couldn't help but smile fondly. Even if it wasn't the role she imagined herself in, Harper had a love for theater regardless of it all. The painstaking hours it took to put a show together were all worth it when she got to live through the finished product.

When he asked about when he would get to see her perform on stage, Harper let out a chuckle, "I don't know what would be more embarrassing, having my brothers hooting and hollering at me while I'm trying to perform or you all watching me play Mary fuckin' Poppins." She shook her head. "I've already reserved you all tickets and front row seats. But you have to promise me that you won't tease me too much. I really didn't audition for this role. I wanted a minor part, I swear.
Mary Poppins smiles way too much for my liking."

Harper looked at her brother seriously after a long moment, "How are you doing, Spence? I feel like you are always checking on me and the other two idiots...but who's checking on you?"

 

[Misty Gray]

Bruce King's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 1st May 1981

Spencer King​

Spencer couldn't help but chuckle when Harper asked if she still had makeup on, assuring him she'd scrubbed at it multiple times. "Nah, you're all good, but how much did you have trowelled on to be scrubbing at it?!" he teased.

Although the thought of spending seven hours rehearsing wasn't Spencer's thing, he was proud she was doing something that she wanted to do and that she hadn't ended up getting involved in the family business. Considering the childhoods he and his siblings had had, he was glad they'd all been given the opportunity for a good education, with those who wanted to being able to go on to university. He knew they had Bruce to thank for that, but he liked to think each of his siblings had done it off their own backs.

When Harper raised her embarrassment concerns, Spencer flashed a mischievous grin before doing his best Dick Van Dyke impression. "Say no more, Gov'ner!" he teasingly quoted a line from the film he'd seen. When she spoke of buying front row tickets and making him promise not to tease her, he let out a deep sigh before nodding along. Watching Mary Poppins at the theatre wasn't something Spencer would ever choose to do, but the fact his sister was going to be on stage made him want to attend. "I promise I won't hoot and holler at ya on stage. Can't make no promises I won't tease you beforehand, though." He smirked when Harper pointed out the lead character smiled too much for her. "Well, not just that, but she's also good at cooking and cleaning. Not like your messy arse," he joked.

Winding Harper up served as a way for Spencer to forget about his latest altercation with Letitia, but when his sister asked him how he was doing he couldn't help but think back to his wife. Harper pointed out he was always checking on his siblings but she posed the question as to who was checking on him. "Bruce," he was quick to reply, though if he were being honest, much of that checking up on was business-related. Following Laura's death, Spencer had eventually been able to open up to his uncle and grow closer to the man. However, once he became an adult, Spencer stopped sharing how he was feeling with his uncle to instead focus on showing the man he was capable of helping to run the business. He didn't want Bruce to see him struggling or upset in case it made it look like he wasn't capable of doing the job.

As if realising Harper would see through his simple answer, he gave her another name of someone who was checking on him. "And Letitia." Despite mentioning the woman he'd married, his face was devoid of any warmth or pleasant emotions that would accompany speaking of the woman they loved. Sitting back on the sofa, he tapped the furniture's arm with his hand. "Her checking on ain't the same though," he admitted. "I've got the in-laws over tomorrow and I'm kind of hoping I get run over by a bus somewhere before them," he remarked. Instinctively, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigarette and his lighter, wasting no time in lighting up. "If you ever find a bloke you wanna marry, try meet his parents early on. Otherwise, by the time you realise they're a pair of wankers, you've already fallen for him and it's too late to back out." He then took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out the smoke. "In fact, don't get married at all. Stay single and then I won't have size up the the lucky guy!"

 

[Bellz]

Bruce’s house
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 1st May 1981

Harper King ​

Harper let out a small laugh as she watched her brother do a comical Dick Van Dyke impression. "You do that much better than poor sap that I have to share the stage with. Ever think of taking up a career on Broadway?" The girl asked, her teasing tone also laced with a little bit of sass. It just wouldn’t be Harper without her usual sassy attitude peeking through. Smiling and rolling her eyes, she said, "Do you know how little I believe that you and the other morons wouldn’t give me a hard time in front of all of those people. You all live to embarrass me." The girl huffed once more. He then told her that Mary Poppins was good at cooking and cleaning, unlike her who was messy and the girl pouted her lips, her brows furrowing as she took offense to the comment.

"I am absolutely not!" She growled halfheartedly, not really having the energy for an attitude or caring what her older brother thought of her ability to keep a house clean. That was for women who cared about what people thought of them and Harper was certainly not one of those women. If someone came to her place and it was messy, oh fucking well, she didn’t have the time to worry about if that painting was straight on the wall, or if there were plenty of blankets for people to practically grab. She had better things to do with her life that didn’t involve other people.

She rolled her eyes as he answered her question about who he had to take care of him. "You and I both know that you two only talk about business. Both of you guys are way too macho with each other to sit down and talk about your feelings." Harper smiled, chuckling to herself for a moment before turning serious. She wasn’t going to let him get away with avoiding her.

Harper watched as he also added that Letitia was also there for her. They both know that was a fucking lie. That wench was only there for herself and didn’t deserve any sort of patience that Spencer was giving her. Harper was becoming impatient with him as she waited for him to tell her what was on his mind. Normally, she wouldn’t have been so bothered by the way he was lately, but she could even see that her brother was taking a nosedive mentally. It wasn’t like her to turn a blind eye to that, even if she was in her own little world a lot of the time nowadays.

"Oh I know," She said after she admitted that his wife’s way of checking on him wasn’t the same as his family’s. Her face scrunched up as he said that his in-laws were coming to visit. "What a lovely funeral party you are going to be involved in." Harper commented snarkily, shaking her head. The woman did her best to avoid his wife and any contact with her family whenever she could. Sometimes she would even make excuses as to why she couldn’t come home for family dinners whenever Letitia was going to be involved. Harper had a hard time biting her tongue, her brothers were convincing her that it was best to just let it be. They needed to support Spencer in other ways but Harper just didn’t see the point in holding her tongue any longer.

With no one there to shake their head at her or tell her otherwise, she looked to Spencer as he told her to try and meet the parents whatever bloke she’d end up with before marrying him. Harper couldn’t help but correct him in her mind, she certainly didn’t see herself marrying a man. Ever. She opened her mouth to say something but he beat her to do it, telling her to not get married and stay single. "That’s the goal, Spence. People these days just don’t know how to treat a lady, therefore no person will ever be good enough for me. Guess Bruce is going to have to get used to the fact that I’ll be living here forever, a lonely spinster." The blonde said with a shake of her head before she remembered what she was going to say.

"I don’t know how you put up with it, Spence. I mean…that witch has never been nice to you, to us….and her parents, well, they are their own fucking mess. I don’t like seeing you so down all the time." Harper looked her brother in the eyes, not often sharing anything with him more than she needed to. "I just…miss the fun guy. At least you were fun sometimes before now…no offense, you aren’t as fun. And I know because that blood-sucking bitch just sucks the life out of everyone she meets…which is why I am angry for you."

 

[Misty Gray]

Bruce King's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 1st May 1981

Spencer King​

Spencer flashed a knowing smirk when Harper accused him and Bruce of being too macho to talk about their feelings with each other. There was a time when he finally opened up to his uncle following Laura's death, but then when he reached the age of adulthood and expressed his desire to work for the business, things changed. Spencer worked hard to prove he was strong and capable to his uncle, which also meant not showing what could be deemed as a weakness. He had no reason to doubt that Bruce wanted that too; for him to always display a thick skin and keep his emotions well away from business. Not only that, but he and Bruce needed to maintain a strong front for the sake of Alex, Billy and Harper.

Oddly, the most unpleasant topic of discussion was that surrounding Letitia. The woman who was meant to be the love of his life. Spencer scoffed when Harper pointed out dinner with the in-laws was going to be more like a funeral party. "Shame it's not their funeral," he remarked, barely able to feel bad for saying it. "You sure you don't want to join us. Maybe you could do a performance to distract them enough to stop them from looking down their noses at me."

Spencer softly smiled when Harper said nobody would ever be good enough for her. "You're right there, Harp," he agreed with her. He wasn't sure who he'd be happy with dating his sister. On one hand he wouldn't want her with the kind of mates he had; dangerous men who took risks. On the other, he knew first hand how much of a nightmare someone highly respectable could be too. The last thing he wanted was some snob belittling his sister. "You be a spinster if it makes you happy. Doubt you'd get lonely with all your lovely brothers dropping by to annoy you. And I don't think Bruce would mind you sticking around forever," he assured her.

Spencer slumped back on the sofa when Harper spoke about Letitia. He let out a deep sigh as she said the woman was never nice to him and she didn't like seeing him down. He met Harper's gaze, his own eyes reflecting the stress he felt about the situation. He weakly smiled when she said she missed him being fun, then shook his head when she admitted she was angry for him. Spencer didn't have much of an outlet for his feelings where Letitia was concerned. Not only maintaining a strong front for Bruce, but also not wanting to burden Alex with it after his own relationship with Savannah hadn't worked out. He typically tried to avoid piling any stress on Harper, but in that moment, her words and concern were encouraging him to open up after locking away his thoughts and feelings for so long.

"It wasn't always like this. I loved her," he began, falling silent as he acknowledged he'd said 'loved', in past tense. He did still love her, but she was making it hard for him to justify why or to show it anymore. "When we got married, we were both in love. Her parents didn't like me from day one, at the engagement party, but she said they'd come round and I was too into Letitia to let them get in the way." He then shrugged his shoulders and looked down to his hands on his lap as he linked his fingers together. As a kid, he'd been told time and time again that he was useless. A waste of space destined to fail and amount to nothing. Those were the sentiments of Trevor, a man who Spencer strived to be nothing like. So if he were to split with Letitia, would he just look like he was abandoning her and failing to keep the vows he's spoken on his wedding day? Trevor had walked out on his wife too. Spencer felt that for the sake of his image in the business, to maintain a respectable persona to the Kings' associates, it was important his marriage survived, especially to a woman perceived to be respectable. But it was becoming harder. Stuck with a woman who didn't appreciate him.

Sitting forward, he glanced down to the photographs of Callum. "Letitia doesn't want kids anymore," he said, for a moment mentally kicking himself for saying it out loud. He then looked up to Harper and lightly shrugged his shoulders. "Only, the way she worded it was enough for me to read between the lines and think maybe she doesn't want my kids. Thinks this ain't a stable environment for it." Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose and took a moment to compose himself. "Probably for the best. Poor kid would be miserable as hell with her and I can't imagine she'd let 'em make a mess or have any toys out of place. And can you imagine sleepovers at Grandma and Granddad Snooty-Twats' house?" he remarked.

Spencer shook his head in disappointment before looking back to Harper and realising he'd probably offloaded more than he needed to. "Ah, you don't need to hear all this shite," he told her. "You miss the fun brother, don't ya? Maybe we should crack open some booze. I bet Bruce has got some of the good stuff stocked up around here," he mischievously told her. Despite his change of tone, his eyes still showed his clear hurt surrounding Letitia.

 

[Bellz]

Bruce King's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 1st May 1981

Harper King ​

Harper could see the stress in her brother's eyes and it was making her uncomfortable. He had been nothing but stressed recently, where there used to be some sort of light in them it had now been turned off. She just hoped he would open up to her because he looked like he really needed to open up to someone. Luckily for her, he did and Harper was listening attentively as he said that his relationship with Letitia hadn't always been like it was now. She was young, sure, but she knew well about relationships going from love to chaos in an instant. Riley came to her mind for a split second before she shooed the wicked witch out of her head. Harper hadn't missed him saying that he loved his wife, the past tense solidifying what the young woman thought she already knew.

It was still sad, however, to hear that her brother had been in love with the woman he married and now that love was slowly dwindling piece by piece, like a wilting flower. Harper had never liked his in-laws, they were prudes. Hearing that Letitia continued to encourage Spencer that they'd come around made her nose wrinkle. Again, Harper may have been young, but she knew enough to know that if the in-laws didn't like you before the marriage, they most likely would never come around. But Spencer was willing to put all that aside for his wife whom he loved at the time and Harper found that romantic. But now...it was clearly hurting him.

When he sat forward to look at the picture of Callum on the table, he mentioned that his wife didn't want kids anymore. Harper's brows furrowed in concern as she watched his face. Never wanting kids herself, at least, not since she was a child dreaming as any little girl did, she struggled to understand the sentiment behind what he was saying. But, her brother wanted what any person who wasn't hardened by the idea of ruining kids with their actions would want. What any married man would want. When her brother looked back up at her, Harper offered him a sympathetic look. He clarified that he had read between the lines and that he figured out that the woman didn't want his kids. The witch said that this wasn't a stable environment for it.

Harper, for herself at least, would agree with that statement. But Spencer would do right by his children, she knew that because he had helped raise her and the other two brats in the family. "Well, you are right about the fact that the kid would be miserable with that witch. And sleepovers at those snakes' house sounds like a one-way ticket to hell...but," Harper bit her lip, unsure of if he would take her seriously or not. "You deserve to be happy, Spence. You've spent your life taking care of us. And you are keeping yourself in a relationship where you are truly unhappy. Do you want kids? Find a good woman who wants to have your kids!"

"You are worth so much more than what Letitia is giving you. And I know that I'm the kid sister and blah blah blah. But I've had my fair share of shitty relationships. People can make you feel as small as you let them, but you have the power to end that cycle." Harper looked at her brother trying to offer him an encouraging smile. "She might not think this is a stable environment but I turned out just fine didn't I? And I was surrounded by you jerks all of my life! I don't regret it either, we have fun here."

 

[Misty Gray]

Bruce King's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
Friday 1st May 1981

Spencer King​

Spencer nodded in agreement when his sister expressed her understanding of how Letitia's parents would not make for a fun or pleasant sleepover for any kids he wanted to have. He noticed her bite her lip as she seemed to be considering saying what she had on her mind, but she spoke up before he needed to push her to speak out. He softly smiled when she said he deserved to be happy and pointed out how much he'd done to take care of his siblings. He let out a frustrated sigh at the thought of how he was staying in an unhappy relationship. He wasn't frustrated at Harper, but at the situation she was highlighting. "Yeah, I want kids. Even after having to put up with you I still want kids," he drily remarked. He briefly lowered his gaze when she told him to find a good woman who wanted the same. With all of the crimes he'd committed and growing up being told he was worthless, it was difficult to think he deserved anyone remotely better than Letitia. Why she even married him to begin with felt like a mystery lately.

"You've had your own shitty relationships? Give me their names and I'll give 'em what for," he remarked. "You might be my kid sister but I appreciate what you're saying. And you're right that I shouldn't let her make me feel small. Anyone else who treats me like shit I would knock the fuck down. I ain't going to hit her or nothin', but I could easily put her in her place. I've been holding back so much shit I could say to her just because I don't believe in upsetting women, but if she can dish it out..." he trailed off. He smiled back at her when she pointed out that she'd turned out fine in the environment they'd grown up in. "Hey, I'm not a jerk. Your brothers, on the other hand..."

Spencer stood up and looked to Harper. "So, I'm going to help myself to some of Bruce's finest booze. I'll pay him back in more overtime at the office - he owes me anyway. You want some?" he mischievously offered. Regardless of her answer, Spencer beckoned his sister to stand up so he could give her a hug. "I love ya, sis. Even if you are a pain in the neck."

 

[Misty Gray]

Spencer King and Logan Thomson
(Spencer aka: Nathan Miller)

The Loch Inn Pub
~ Fort William, Scotland ~
~ Friday 30th October 1987 ~​

It had taken some time to settle into what was intended to be his new home in Scotland. Spencer had bought the pub over a year ago, trying to do everything he could to fill the voids that had been left in him when he'd been forced to leave London. He missed The Royal Taphouse dearly and though he had settled into his new business, making friends with the regulars, it never felt quite the same. His family wasn't around him, for starters. Of course, he had the love of his life, Shona, and their two little children, Eddie and Lottie, but there were so many absent family members missing from his world.

Spencer had left Shona with the children whilst he covered a shift at the pub. Things were starting to get busy as the festive period approached and he knew it was time to employ more bar staff, but he hadn't yet got around to advertising and preparing to interview people. As he finished serving up one of the customers, Spencer saw the two young men enter the pub. He'd seen them drinking in his establishment a few times recently and one of them often seemed to catch the attention of a few of the regulars. After serving the two young men in question, they walked away to occupy one of the tables in the corner. Spencer was snapped out of his concentration when the middle-aged man approached the bar and ordered a pint. "You want to watch it serving that scum," the man commented as he paid Spencer for the drink.

"Why would I want to do that?" Spencer drily asked, briefly turning his back to the man so he could put the cash into the till. Turning back to the older man, he folded his arms as he listened to the explanation.

"The young one is Logan Thomson. He was always causing bother around here up to a couple of years back," the Scotsman explained. "Ended up getting locked up for nicking and fighting. Not the sort you want in your business, am I right?" he asked, shaking his head as he scoffed at the thought of the ex-con. Spencer stared in the direction of the table Logan and his friend were seated at, but he chose not to respond to the man's words. Instead, he let the customer take his pint and return to his group.

Spencer made his way to the table Logan and his friend were occupying. "You. Take your drink with you to the bar and stay there until I say," he ordered Logan’s friend.

"Hey, we're just here for a drink. No trouble or anything-" Logan protested as he rushed to his feet and friend's side, looking at the pub landlord as if ready for a fight.

"Sit down, would ya? I never said you had," Spencer calmly but firmly ordered Logan, pointing to the seat he wanted him to sit on. Spencer then looked at the other man. "Go on, get yourself to the bar. Your next drinks are on me, so take your time until I'm done here."

Spencer pulled out a chair and sat directly opposite Logan, folding his arms on the tabletop as he studied the young man. With Logan's friend out of the way, Spencer could focus on the man across from him. There was something familiar in his eyes. An untamed aggression and a defensive attitude that had no doubt been ingrained over time to where Logan now felt some need to always be on the attack. "I've been hearing plenty about you, Logan, but none of it from your own mouth. People here seem quick to write you off. Why do you think that is?"

"Why the fuck do I have to tell you anything? I don't need some Cockney bastard stickin' his nose in. Why don't you piss off back to England?" Logan defensively told him, shaking his head.

"Are you really going to be a mouthy little dick to the only one in this pub wanting to give you the time of day? You won't find a better pub to drink in around this boring town, so how about you calm down and hear me out?"

Logan chewed his bottom lip in frustration before deciding to play along. It wasn’t like he had much choice if he wanted to enjoy his beer at some point that evening. “Just because I was in prison, doesn't mean I’m in here to cause trouble or anything. I don’t do any of that shit anymore. I’m just here for a drink.”

“Glad to hear it. If anyone tries nicking or fighting in my pub, I’ll knock some fucking sense into them. You just remember that.” Sitting back, Spencer took a moment to study the young man’s face. He wasn’t in any position to judge people based on their criminal record and some part of him wanted to believe Logan was being serious about not wanting to cause trouble. “I’m Nathan, by the way,” he finally introduced himself. “And I already know who you are, Logan.” After briefly glancing at his earlier disgruntled customer, Spencer focused back on the young man across from him. “So what’ve you been doing with yourself since you got out - other than frequenting my fine establishment?” he curiously asked. “Managed to find work? Old grumpy bollocks over there would have me believe you’re out robbin’ old ladies for a living.”

Logan couldn’t help but smirk at Spencer’s remark, but he soon turned serious again. “I’m trying to do things the right way now, but as soon as they know about the criminal record nobody wants to employ me. I’ve just been getting by with cash-in-hand jobs - gardening and that sort of thing.”

“You’ve got to keep trying and prove you’re wanting to do things the right way now. I’ve seen people who have done far worse shit than you have and then worked hard enough to turn it around and make a decent life for themselves…” he trailed off. He wasn’t keen on his thoughts moving to dwell on his unresolved history with own father, Trevor, but he was often someone who sprung to mind - one of the biggest scumbags he’d known who somehow went on to redeem his many past mistakes. “In the meantime, I’ve got my own honest living to make,” he drily remarked. Despite his words to Logan, Spencer couldn’t help but think he’d rather be in London making a far from honest living than stuck in Scotland living a lie.

*****

~ Friday 20th November 1987 ~​

Spencer and Logan had briefly spoken a few times over the passing weeks, with Spencer seeing something familiar in the young man. Perhaps it was that he was missing having his younger brothers around or even that Logan reminded him of someone he’d once known, but he found he was enjoying the small chats they’d had standing at either side of the bar.

Spencer had just stepped out of the pub that night when he noticed the man in question hunched over across the street as he coughed up. Upon approaching the man, he realised it was Logan coughing up a mouthful of blood as his nose also bled. “Tell me the other bloke is worse off, else I’m dragging you to the gym to learn how to handle yourself.”

“It was two blokes, actually. Fuckers got in my face randomly starting shit so I punched one of ‘em,” Logan said, catching his breath back. “I wasn’t out to cause trouble, but I wasn’t about to let them get the first punch in.”

Spencer couldn’t help but smirk at the younger man’s comment. He was beginning to realise the familiarities he was experiencing with Logan came from the fact in some ways he said or did things that reminded him of his younger self. “Alright, Rambo. Come on into the pub and let’s get your face cleaned up,” he firmly suggested.

Once they were in the back office, Spencer handed Logan a cloth so he could clean the blood from his nose and face. It was a scene all too familiar for Spencer and one he missed at times. For all the bleeding and suffering in London, he’d give anything to be back there in the middle of the action and with his family. “It’s nothing, mate. I’ve suffered worse over the years,” Spencer casually reassured Logan. “Though I was only half joking about the gym. I teach self-defence and boxing there, so I could easily show you how to properly handle yourself against a couple of knuckle draggers.” Given that he was meant to be on his best behaviour, Spencer found boxing and training were the few legal outlets he could turn to in order to expel his own pent up aggression. Logan silently nodded, clearly weighing up the idea despite his expression suggesting he was too proud to accept the offer of help. Spencer offered the young man a seat at his desk and sat directly across from him. “What’s your story, then? Do you have any family around here?” he casually asked.

“No, um…” Logan began, pressing the cloth against his nose to stop the blood from running. “People around here are quick to tell you about all the bad stuff I’ve done, but never mention the rest, right?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t have any family. My mother died giving birth to me. Dad never really got over it. Used to kick the shit out of me and my poor stepmom until one day he beat her to death... back when I was 11. He’s been in prison ever since and most days I hope for a call saying he’s died a miserable death in that place.” Logan slumped back and tossed the cloth on the desk, content his nose had stopped bleeding. “Sorry if that’s over-sharing, but you did ask.”

Spencer sucked in a breath after hearing about the young man’s parents. Violence and death no longer shocked him; after all, it was something that had surrounded most of his own life. The piece of shit father and losing a mother figure at such a young age was all too familiar to Spencer. It was knowing the kind of suffering Logan had experienced in his childhood that made Spencer’s own chest ache. The more he spoke with the young man, the more similarities continued to appear. He’d wanted to help Logan before hearing what he’d just been told, but now, he felt even more invested in giving the lad a chance. “Don’t apologise, mate. I didn’t have the best childhood myself and I can empathise with what you had to go through,” he explained, but didn’t want to go into detail, especially not when he was living under a false identity. “Who looked after you when your old man went to prison?”

“I spent two years in a home going through a whole other load of abuse before I was moved into foster care. I was a handful and my foster parents didn’t really know what to do with me. As soon as I was old enough they turfed me out to fend for myself. They still live nearby but never bothered to check in on me once I was out of their hair. A few years later I was arrested and locked up, and now here I am.” Logan shrugged his shoulders and laughed at his own expense. “The local screw-up.”

Spencer shook his head. “Fuck the lot of them. Time to prove them all wrong and show them you’ve changed.” After a brief pause, Spencer cleared his throat. He’d always been a risk-taker, but his difficulty trusting people was creating conflict with what he wanted to suggest. After another moment, he bit the bullet. “I’ll give you a job, Logan. I’ve been meaning to put an ad out for new bar staff, so I can spend more evenings with my wife and kids. What do you reckon?”

"Why would you want to give me a job when there's people out there without a record? Aren't you worried about me being an ex-con and screwing you over? That's what others seem to think once they know."

"I've worked with people from all sorts of backgrounds in the past and I believe in giving people a second chance. You ain't had a good start in life and neither did I. If people don't want to give you a chance, fuck 'em. I'm giving you a chance now." Spencer could see the confusion on Logan’s face; a look that suggested he wasn't used to people giving him a chance or helping him out. "And the only one who should be worried about you screwing me over is you. If you steal from me or cause any other shit, I'll beat the crap out of you," he warned. Despite the smirk on Spencer's face, it was clear in his eyes he meant it. "And don't expect this job to be an easy ride. You’ll turn up for your shifts on time and you’ll put the graft in."

Logan looked Spencer in the eyes and couldn’t help the genuine smile that formed on his face. “Yeah. Alright, Nathan, yeah. I’ll take the job. I swear I won’t cause you any trouble. I’ll work whatever shifts you need me to.”

Spencer smiled back at Logan and nodded his head. “Alright. Be here 10am Monday and I’ll show you the ropes. Don’t be late,” he warned.

Mentioned: Pyroclast (Shona, Eddie)

 

[Bellz]

Pitstop Repairs
Drumcondra, Dublin
~ November 8th 1985 ~

Roxie Carriveau
Thea Ryan
​

Thea had been riddled with guilt for the past couple of days. The closer it got to her having to participate in the raid the more her heart ached. She was in love with Tom and giving him up sounded like a nightmare. For days she wondered how or if she should tell him and it always ended with her getting choked up over it. She would change her mind mid-sentence and switch to a different topic. Thea worried he would hate her; would resent her for using him but she was convinced it wasn’t like that. It may have started out that way but it didn’t end the same. And it wasn’t just Tom she felt bad for betraying, but Syd and the others as well. The more she found herself hanging out with or being around them the more she felt like this was all wrong. They seemed like nice, normal people. If she didn’t know what they were really into she’d have assumed it was a big, loving family. A big, loving family that would be torn apart if she didn’t say something.

The day she decided she was going to say something, she had worked at the garage. With Syd gone and taking time off, that left one less person to help with repairs. Thea was more than capable, however, of handling a car herself so it wasn’t that big a loss. “Fuck, can someone hand me another spark plug,” she shouted, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “I dropped this one.” Her hands had been jittery all day, worried about how her confession and how it would go. They would hate her, for sure, but maybe they would hear her out a bit. One of her co-workers walked over with a spark plug in his hand. “Alrigh’ girly, try not an’ drop this one, huh? Otherwise gonna have to tell the boss you’re wastin’ supplies,” he joked before walking away. Usually, Thea would have laughed but she was currently staring at Roxie, who’d just walked in.

Quickly wiping her hands on her overalls, Thea bounced over to her and cleared her throat. “M-Ms. Porter? Er, Biancardi- I mean, Roxie,” she shouted at herself, annoyed that she was just stumbling over her own words. “Roxie, can I…Talk to you? In the office? It-It’s really important and I know you’re really busy and don’t have time but it’s very important that I talk to you and talk to you today.” By the end of her run-on sentence, she was out of breath, staring up at her with worried eyes.

With Syd taking some time off from the shop, Roxie had promised him that she would keep an eye on things whilst he was visiting with his father at the hospital. While she hardly knew anything about cars, she did know about business. What needed tending to every day after the shop closed were things like counting the drawer and making sure to close it out with enough left in it for the next day. She also needed to make sure that the parts list was correct and that if it wasn’t the correct supplies were ordered before too many things were left on backorder.

Roxie had been just popping in and out during the daytime to check in before coming back in at closing time, normally people greeted her but it only went as far as that. But when Thea bounced in front of her, Roxie jolted to a stop. She stumbled through calling her Mrs. Porter, which she’d never been called before and sounded strange to hear…in a good way, then Biancardi then just Roxie, which caused the older woman to smile kindly.

"Thea, it’s nice to see you again." She kept her voice kind though she was starting to get suspicious as she watched the young woman. In all of her years of criminal work, either on the side of the law or against it, people always had a tell. Some hid it better than others, some like poor Thea here were absolutely terrible at it.

But Roxie prided herself on not being as rash as her male counterparts, when the young woman asks if they could talk in the office, she smiled. Thea acknowledged that she was really busy but that it was really important. "Sure, Thea, I have a minute." Now with everything Roxie had gone through, her heart felt like it was starting to skip a few beats at a time as they made their way to the office. Roxie stepped ahead and unlocked it before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Once in, she moved to take a seat in Syd’s chair before motioning for Thea to take a seat.

Roxie watched her for a long moment, "Everything alright? I can’t help but notice you’re a bit nervous. I know things have been a bit tense lately, but you don’t have anything to worry about. All of the employees are safe."


Why did she have to sound so nice? So goddamn polite? It only made Thea feel worse for what she was about to say and do. She so badly wished she hadn’t been put into a predicament like this - that she had never taken this job, to begin with. They were going through a tough time already. James was on his deathbed. Now she was about to make things worse. “You too,” Thea replied, a soft smile on her face. Though seemingly cold and hard to get through because of her job and career, Thea had always felt there was so much more to Roxie. She may not have given off a warm energy all the time but it was clear there was a reason and Thea respected that.

Roxie assured her the two of them could talk, leading her into the office. After closing the door behind her Thea started fidgeting. The top portion of her overalls was tied around her waist, her white tank top was stained with oil. Tucked on the inside was her badge and it felt so heavy against her skin. She offered her a seat and Thea shook her head politely declining. “Oh, it’s- it’s better if I stand,” she scratched the back of her head before mumbling. “I think.” She cleared her throat just as Roxie started to reassure her that the employees would be safe. After the attack during Halloween, it made sense that some people would be on edge. But it wasn’t that.

“Right, so I-...,” she started, trying to find her words. “I’m-,” she cut herself out again and shook her head. “Fuck.” Reaching into her overalls she slowly pulled out her badge located on a chain. “A year ago I was sent to Dublin on a covert assignment,” Thea knew it would be confusing at first so she tried to spit it all out. “Investigate the Sullivan family. That’s what the assignment was.” Her fingers wrapped tightly around her badge before setting it gently on the desk and sliding it over to her. Across the top read, ‘Interpol Special Agent’ with ‘1473’ as her badge number. “Roxie, I- I’m an agent. A government agent investigating you and your family.”

Roxie wasn't surprised when Thea insisted on standing. It seemed like she was too anxious to sit. Roxie was being polite but it would only go so far if Thea proved to be a threat. She really hoped that wasn't the case but the way she was acting, wasn't good. Luckily, Reina had been accompanying Roxie on all of the extra duties she had taken on for Syd so if Thea did try to run, she wouldn't get far.

She was patient, folding her hands in front of her as she leaned back in the desk chair. Thea was struggling to spit it out, something Roxie was all too familiar with. Confession was coming and she was sure she wasn't going to like what she was hearing. The young lady cursed before reaching into her overalls, which made Roxie flinch slightly, reflexively feeling for the thigh strap underneath her skirt. Thea pulled out a chain with a badge, causing Roxie to relax but it was short-lived as Thea informed her that she had been sent on a cover assignment. Shit.

Roxie's mouth went dry immediately. Thea felt like she needed to explain more but there was really no need. She was a probe. The room spun for a moment but Roxie placed her hands on the table to steady herself in her seat. Thea said she was investigating the Sullivan family, that was her assignment. Roxie didn't move as Thea slid her badge down in front of her. Peering down at it, Roxie swallowed hard. When she finally confirmed it all in one sentence, Roxie's eyes closed. She was a government agent investigating her and her family. Pushing the badge back towards her, Roxie set the mask she normally wore in a tough situation on her face. Her smile and kind face were gone, replaced by a neutral and what some would call intense expression. "Interpol, I have it that they are working with other agencies. What countries? States? Dublin? Anywhere else? What charges?" Roxie wanted to do as much of her own digging as she could, maybe she could get some sort of help.

But Thea wasn't telling her this just because she wanted to, there was a reason, "Why are you telling me this, you know what my-" Roxie stopped herself short from calling Syd her husband, having been doing that a lot lately. "You know what Syd will do to you when he finds out?"

Thea was prepared for the blowup. She was waiting for the shouting and the screaming and for her to be attacked. Though her training may have kicked in in order to protect herself, she would’ve held back to allow whatever Roxie had for her. She felt guilty and remorseful and Roxie’s anger would be warranted. Only, it never happened. Instead of going at her in well-deserved rage she remained seating, sliding her badge back to her. Thea slowly reached for it and tucked it back inside her clothes - eyes on Roxie. The woman asked her a plethora of questions, most she wasn’t going to answer. “I can’t- I can’t tell you about who else is being investigated or where,” she shook her head before taking a deep breath.

“The charges, however, I can. Several drug-related violations. Racketeering. Murder, and money laundering and that’s just the stuff they told me to look out for, I mean I- I don’t know what else they have against all of you I just-,” realizing she was growing both frantic and giving a long-winded sentence she paused to take a breath. “That’s just against the Sullivans. You, Roxie, they’ve got for conspiracy and being an accomplice to multiple crimes. They- They’re trying to blame you for what happened to your fiance.” Though Thea didn’t know Roxie whatsoever, she knew within her heart of hearts the woman had nothing to do with Matthew being killed. So to hear that her superiors were trying to pin such a crime on an innocent, grieving widow disgusted her; her face showed her thoughts.

When asked why she was telling her all this Thea finally moved to quickly take a seat. With her hands placed on the table, she looked into Roxie’s eyes. “I don’t know,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Because not all of you deserve what they’re going to do to you. They’re going to rip this family apart and- and some people may even end up dead and I can’t have that on my conscience. I won’t. Plus I-,” she hesitated, figuring if she were being honest she may as well spit it out. “I’m in love with Tom - Syd’s cousin - and I couldn’t do this anymore.”

“I know Syd is going to try and kill me, Roxie, but that’s not important to me right now. Even without me being here they were going to make a move on you. And I-I- I wanna help, okay?” The sincerity in her voice came out as a whisper; as if she didn’t want anyone but Roxie to hear her. She was in law enforcement and these people were breaking the law and yet here she was trying to save them. Thea was confused by herself and the predicament she was in but… She knew she needed to warn them regardless.

Roxie let out a deep breath to keep herself steady as Thea said she couldn’t tell her who else was being investigated and where. But she could tell her the charges. Roxie held her breath this time as she spoke them, telling her that the first ones were just against the Sullivans. Roxie's expression turned confused as she then mentioned charges against her, which then turned to a crumpled, helpless look when Thea said that they were trying to blame her for what happened to Matthew. It was like Thea had hit her right in the chest, and the wind knocked her out of her. Eyes burned and Roxie fought to keep control in front of this agent. A person who had invaded all of their lives and was learning everything about them. She could take care of her right now, her gun felt heavy against her thigh as she listened to her continue on.

The notion that they thought she had anything to do with Matthew’s death when it had been so obviously Ricky, in the end, made her want to scream at this child that she knew absolutely nothing, that Interpol knew nothing. None of the charges were founded if they were trying to pin the on her. They had a case. But Roxie wasn’t a dreamer, she wasn’t like others around her who held onto hope. It had been pulled from her time and time again. She was her father’s daughter, a woman of intelligence, a realist. Clearly, there was no time left if Thea was telling her all of this now.

Thea said she didn’t know why she was telling her this, but went on to say that they didn’t all deserve what they are going to do to them. Roxie tensed, her hands grasping her gun at her thigh again as a reflex as her jaw tensed. They were going to rip the family apart, some might end up dead and she couldn’t have that on her conscience. She then admitted that she was in love with Syd’s cousin, Tom and she couldn’t do it anymore. Roxie’s face had returned to its stoic expression, eyes no longer burning though she was aching inside as Thea acknowledge that Syd would try to kill her, which wasn’t important to her.

She wanted to help. Even without her, they were going to make a move, a raid. Thea wanted to help. Roxie stood from her seat, face stiff as she leaned over the desk at her. The warmth she had for Thea, in the beginning, was no longer in sight, the hurt in her heart hidden by ice that shrouded her face. "You’re going to help. Syd’s not going to kill him, I won’t let him get to you. But you’re going to get my family out of this. If it’s the last thing you do. You owe Tom that much."

Roxie looked out the window to where Reina was for a moment, wondering if they should just take Thea and not let her walk freely, but Roxie knew the woman wouldn’t run. She could see the guilt written on her face. "I’m sure you know where Conor Sullivan’s house is by now, you’ll meet me there when I call. If you fail to meet me, Thea, it won’t be Syd or Conor you have to worry about, understand?" Once she said yes, Roxie stood up straight, "You may go."

** An Hour Later **
~ Roxie Carriveau's Home ~
​

"No no, Frank, you heard me right." Roxie was trying to be patient as she sat in her office chair at her own house. The kids were with Syd at his, she wasn’t ready to tell him anything yet. Not until after she talked with Conor about what Thea had told her. "You know this is business suicide? No coming back." Roxie let out a hoarse laugh, wiping under her nose with a tissue as she tried to contain the tears that had been flowing nonstop for hours. She had sat and thought about it for that long too, but in order to make sure they could survive, it was what she had to do. The Sullivans properties and assets were not going to be saved, at least the illegal ones. Hers were too far, they still had time. Deciding to speak the next part in Italian in case anyone was tapping into her line, she gave her instructions,

"Come se questo avesse importanza ora. Voglio che sia tutto liquidato. So che sai dove inviarlo. Voglio le ricevute quando sarà finito." As if that matters now. I want it all settled. I know you know where to send it. I want receipts when it's finished. Roxie kept things as brief as she could.

With what Thea told her, she wasn’t sure who had what bugged and where, but she wasn’t going to take any chance.

"Tutte le proprietà a New York? Liquidate?""All properties in New York? Liquidated?" Frank asked.

Roxie scoffed, "Per l'amor del cazzo, sì! E se qualcuno fa domande che non sono essenziali," "For fuck's sake, yes! And if anyone asks questions that aren't essential,"Roxie paused, her heart aching as she contemplated saying the next words.

The woman didn’t have it in her to make orders like this, but it was between them and her family. She would choose her family every time. "Uccidili." "Kill them." The line on the other end was silent for a moment before Frank said, "Si Capo." "Yes, Boss."

Roxie let the words hang in the air for a moment longer before saying, "Call me when it’s done." With that, she hung up, slamming the phone repeatedly against the receiver before bringing her hands to her face as she let out a sob.
mentions: Misty Gray Pyroclast Melanin-Gxdess BasDorcha neverbackdown

 

[Misty Gray]

Carter Technologies Headquarters
~ City of London, London ~

Ezekiel Carter and Trevor Stewart​

The Promotion - March 1990

In the five years Trevor had worked at Carter Technologies, he'd never been granted access to the CEO's office or even the highly secure floor it was located on. That fact would remain unchanged even today, when Ezekiel Carter himself had told his assistant to summon him for a meeting. As he finished up a sales call, Trevor's attention was soon drawn to the man standing over his desk. Lionel Roberts was Ezekiel's most trusted accountant and his Senior Assistant, so whilst Trevor often found himself in meeting with Lionel, they were always general, planned ones. So when asked to attend a meeting in the recently unoccupied office that had belonged to the former Head of Sales, something felt different.

Trevor's instincts had been correct as once in the office, he'd found himself seated across the desk from Ezekiel Carter himself. With Lionel sitting alongside Trevor and a security guard standing by the closed door, it was just the four men present. Much quieter than the sales meetings Trevor and his colleagues were usually seated in. Ezekiel had greeted him with a firm handshake and a pleasant, welcoming demeanour. Trevor understood the man to be charming and charitable, so the fact it felt somewhat uncomfortable to be in the presence of the big boss was mostly down to Ezekiel rarely having time to pay attention to every one of his employees, especially those lower in the structure.

From the start of the meeting, Trevor soon felt at ease. Ezekiel spoke about the company's sales as he shared the paperwork with him as visual aids. Trevor wasn't entirely sure why he was being given the personal briefing when usually the whole team would be subject to such a meeting and not with Ezekiel himself running it. As he continued to listen, it soon became clear that Ezekiel was leading into directing the conversation onto Trevor's own sales performance. For all his self-confidence and cockiness, Trevor found himself expecting the worst, to have been called in by the boss himself had to mean something had surely gone drastically wrong. Instead, he was surprised to hear Ezekiel acknowledging the results and growth his employee had made over the years. "If you accept my offer, I would like to appoint you as my new Head of Sales," Ezekiel finally revealed, his smile a friendly one that somehow seemed to carry a sense of pride to it.

"Mr. Carter, I..." Trevor began, falling silent for a time to consider the offer. When it came to it, he knew there wasn't much to consider at all. In no world would he be stupid enough to turn down such an offer. Not only would it be a highly paid position but it would be in the most legitimate and reputable job he'd ever had. Even when he owned his own car sales business, it came off the back of a dodgy loan and some of the motors he sold weren't exactly of the described quality. But this time, he was doing honest work and for a company with an excellent reputation. No part of him was going to refuse the offer. "I'm glad I've been able to make an impact on the business and I'd be an idiot to turn down the promotion. Of course I accept," Trevor said, unable to hide the smile from his face.

"I've heard nothing but good things to back up the figures. I need people like you running my team. If you can pass on some of that persuasion and smooth-talking nature I've been informed about onto the rest of the team - now your team - it would make me a very happy man," Ezekiel assured him. "And please," he began, reaching out to shake Trevor's hand, "you can call me Ezekiel. We'll be seeing more of each other now."



A Convenient Truth - February 1994

It had been four years since Trevor had been made the Head of Sales at Carter Technologies and was given more responsibilities as well as a closer working relationship with Ezekiel himself. It had been three years since Trevor had discovered the darker side to the Carter business and the lengths Ezekiel was willing to go to in order to secure his power over London. It was the fact he enjoyed his work so much and was finally earning a living to help support what remained of the family he'd managed to reconnect with since 1985 that he didn't run a mile. Instead, for the first year since finding out about the dangerous side of the Carters, Trevor chose to turn a blind eye and keep his head down. However, it had now been two years since Trevor had been approached by Interpol, in the form of his daughter, Harper, who he thought had died with many of the Kings in 1985. Having seen first hand how dangerous Ezekiel was and also being aware that the Carters had been giving Alex and the Stewarts a hard time, Trevor didn't hesitate to agree to working undercover with Interpol and Harper. He was willing to do anything he could to protect his family and stop the Carters becoming even more dangerous than they already were.

In the years that followed, Trevor had to make sacrifices to maintain his cover and do what Interpol required of him without blowing his cover. In 1991, he had started a fling of sorts with his younger colleague, Anne-Marie. As the months had gone on, it became more than just a fling and he'd found himself growing close to her, even developing romantic feelings. However, once he became involved with Interpol a year later, he'd ended the relationship. He didn't want to put Anne-Marie in danger, nor did he want to risk her getting too close and putting them both in danger. She had left shortly after that, but Trevor felt relieved that there was no chance of her stumbling into danger. By 1994, Trevor was well aware of those dangers, having been both witness and in some cases an accessory to the unpleasant methods Ezekiel took to asserting his power over London and his rivals.

Over the last couple of years, Trevor had found himself inside Ezekiel's heavily secure office on a number of occasions. Whilst it was exactly where he needed to ascend to as part of his undercover work for Interpol, it was still a daunting place to be. The security protocols included frisk searches and that was only after being escorted by one of Ezekiel's most trusted who held access keys to even get to the floor in question. Most employees had never stepped foot on the floor in question, which made Trevor realise how fragile his position was and how carefully he needed to continue playing things. It helped that he'd been practicing his poker face since childhood - long before he ever started working at Carter Technologies.

Having been escorted to Ezekiel's office, Trevor took a seat at the desk across from the man in question. He was surprised to see Damian seated in the chair beside him. Having been assigned on some jobs with the man, he was by now aware of how unsettling and depraved a man Damian could be. But again, Trevor maintained that calm and collected demeanour he was well practiced in by now. Still, what happened next almost caught him off guard enough to nearly let his mask slip.

"It's been brought to my attention that you've been keeping secrets from me, Trevor," Ezekiel spoke, his tone just as stern as his expression. In that moment, Trevor felt his heart sink and a wave of nausea overcame him. He was seated in the lion's den, with guards outside the door and no possible escape route. The lump formed in his throat as he anticipated what was coming. He didn't let his mask slip, but he felt his leg uncontrollably shaking out of view. If Ezekiel had found out the truth about him working for Interpol, then Trevor knew he was fucked. Having unfortunately stood witness to what happened to those who crossed the Carters, he had a good idea of what painful and deadly fate awaited him. Perhaps that explained Damian's presence; the psychopath with a love of torturing others.

"Secrets? Nothing that I'm aware of," Trevor casually replied, sending a glance Damian's way.

"Well, Damian here has been filling me in on the time he spent working with the Kings," Ezekiel began, pointing to the man in question. "He informed me that before you came to work for my company, you were a drug addict, fraudster..."

"That was many years ago," Trevor was quick to speak up. It might have be the kind of admission someone would be reluctant to give, but compared to Ezekiel finding out about Interpol, the man knowing about his past addiction and abandoning his family was the safer option for Trevor. At the worst, he may be about to be fired, but it was better than being killed. "I'm a better man now. I put all of that crap behind me in the early 80s; the drugs and any lawbreaking," he assured his employer.

"What exactly is it you did that you had to put behind you?" Ezekiel calmly asked. He'd already been given enough information from Damian, but he wanted to see if Trevor's story lined up - if he was wiling to be completely honest with him.

Trevor knew in that moment he had to be honest about his past. It could render him useless to Interpol if he was then to be fired, but at least it wouldn't jeopardise their investigations on the Carters. "I was selfish back when I was younger, from my teens onwards. I walked out on my mother and siblings. I got hooked on drugs, alcohol and gambling. Heroin, coke... all of it. When I started seeing Laura King, she got hooked on it all with me. We had four kids together, but I was a shitty husband and I walked out on them. I went off doing whatever I could to make myself happy. And yes, that included committing fraud and adopting false IDs to help me move on every time I got bored. I ain't proud of it and I messed up a lot of people's lives through it all. I've been clean and sober for a long time now and all I want to do is make an honest living," he explained. Having found out a couple of years ago that Bruce, Spencer, Billy and Harper hadn't actually been killed in 1985, and with Interpol's mission in mind, Trevor knew his next words did need to be a lie to ensure Ezekiel would continue to trust him. "I managed to make it up to Alex and May, who as you know are an important part of my life now. But Bruce, Spencer, and the others, they all died still hating me. Can't exactly blame them, can we?" he asked. Of course, the truth was that he had been able to make progress in reconciling with all of his family before they 'died'.

"Oh, he's right there. From what I understood, Trevor here was public enemy number one with the Kings. Hate wasn't strong enough a word," Damian smirked as he backed up Trevor's story, based on the information he'd obtained through working for the Morettis.

Ezekiel slowly nodded along, having studied both of the men across from him to find no signs of dishonesty. "I'm glad to hear you've long since put that behind you, though I will remember not to put you on any jobs where drugs are concerned. Wouldn't want relapsing, would we?" he rhetorically asked with a smile. "I'm not exactly impressed to hear about the fraud," he began, his face turning serious, "but I know you'd have to be pretty foolish to attempt crossing me. Suicidal, in fact," he darkly pointed out, to which Trevor nodded in understanding. "However, now we've established our boundaries and your capabilities, I'll be coming to you for some more work I need doing outside of your contract... jobs that involve your set of skills and past experience. Do you understand?"

"Of course. You know I'm always willing to do whatever is required," Trevor assured Ezekiel. Whilst he knew he was potentially going to be asked to break the law, he believed it would have to be done if he was going to gain Ezekiel's trust and get anywhere near to finding the intelligence and evidence Interpol needed.

Ezekiel was pleased to hear Trevor wasn't resistant to taking on more unsavoury jobs. On one hand, it gave him more reason to consider trusting him, but on the other it meant he'd easily be able to lead Trevor into breaking the law for him. That would allow Ezekiel to acquire incriminating evidence that he could use as insurance to make sure the man stayed in line and wouldn't consider betraying him. "I'll let you know when I require your additional skills. In the meantime, you can start by reminding Alex and your brother's family to stay in line."

 

[Bellz]

Undisclosed Location
London, England
~ August 5th, 1993 ~

Harper Gray
Wesley Roberts ​

Harper and Wesley had just made a few stops in London for some Interpol business pertaining to the information that they were gaining on the Carter Family. Since successfully recruiting her father as a double agent a year ago, it had been easier to funnel information through and a hell of a lot safer, so long as things stayed under wraps. "God, did you really like livin' here? It's always fuckin' rainin' these are new loafers!" Wesley hissed, shaking his shoes when he stepped into a puddle. Harper rolled her eyes, in a good mood despite the downpour. Grabbing her umbrella she held out her arm to Wesley, knowing they had a bit of a walk to their car, "I have sailed the world. Beheld its wonders. From the Dardanelles. To the mountains of Peru. But there's no place like London."Harper lightly sang in her low alto voice watching Wesley playfully cringe, before returning in his best Sweeney Todd impersonation, "No, there's no place like London." A deep baritone voice coming out of him causes Harper to laugh, "Ahh Bravo!" Been working on that have you?" She asked and Wesley's cheeks betrayed him turning a pinkish color, "Gotta keep up with a songbird like you somehow." Harper smirked but said nothing as she noticed a black car slowing down a few hundred feet away from them. She tried not to look too concerned but Wesley had also noticed it and tightened his grip on her. "The car is right there." He reassured her and the woman nodded her head softly, trying to keep her cool.

The black car drove away, still a little too slowly for either of their liking. Once they were out of London, they felt like they could breathe a little easier but they were still on edge. They had one more stop to make, near the English Coast Path. A simple transaction, nothing too insane. But the ride had been tense, nothing like it had been when both of them were quoting Sweeney Todd on the way out of London. Harper's jaw was clenching over and over as they stopped in front of an old farmhouse. It was pitch black out, the fog from the storm making it near impossible to see. "Wes...I don't think we should be here." Harper said, listening to the wind howling around their car. "We can't leave without the package." He told Harper, looking at her and trying to give her a smile. But there was something wrong, the air didn't feel right. Her anxiety felt like it was going into overdrive. When he turned off the ignition and moved to get out of the car, Harper gasped, "Leave the keys in the ignition, you idiot!" Her voice came out fierce, her anxiety taking over causing Wesley to hesitate, "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Harp'! What has gotten into you? We're fine!" But when headlights turned on, shining directly into their car, Wesley and Harper both moved their hands up to cover their eyes. "What the fuck!" Harper said, her heart thudding in her chest. Tires in mud spun, the sound of gunfire echoed past their car and Wesley dove back into his seat. "TURN IT ON, TURN IT ON, TURN IT ON!" Harper screamed.

"I AM!" Wesley roared at her, shoving the keys into the ignition, and shoving his seatbelt on before removing the e-brake, throwing the car in reverse, and punching the gas. Harper gasped out, clutching the emergency handle above her. "Wesley! Careful!" She cried out, as tires squealed back onto the road, straightening out as he then headed straight down it once the gear was thrown back into drive. 2 black cars appeared on the road. "LOTS OF COMPANY, SO MUCH! WHERE DID THEY COME FROM?!" Harper asked as she turned to look behind them, "Must have been that black car back in London." Wesley said, focusing on the road, trying to keep his hands on the wheel as he could feel the car hydroplane from time to time. "The car is loaded! Grab something and get them off the road NOW!" Wesley said. Harper adjusted her seatbelt, not taking it off as she moved to the glovebox, looking for another gun than the one she had on her. When she pulled out a small Thompson submachine gun, she was shocked, "Did Rory pack this car?!" She asked with a laugh though it was nervous in nature, turning to roll down her window before using her hand to push the side mirror into a position where she could see the car immediately behind them.

Wiping the water off of it, it was still so hard to see, but she would manage. The windy road of the path would probably take them out soon enough, but she could try to shoot the tires in the process. When she loaded the gun, she took a deep breath, adjusting her seatbelt again before sticking her head out towards the window to look at the vehicle on her side. "Brake!" Harper said. Wesley didn't dare take his eyes off the road, "YOU'RE CRAZY!" "Just tap it!" Harper said and Wesley did, only a little, and when the black car made up the difference in space she fired, watching as one of the front tires exploded when several bullets hit it. The black car spun out, hitting the other next to it and both smashed into a tree. "Maybe crazy is a good thing, huh?" Harper said smugly now feeling better that trouble was visibly nowhere in sight, just as they rounded a huge bend on the path. The man let out a curt chuckle and shook his head, "Yea yea, I'll let you gloat later."

"Do you see any more of them behind us?!" Wesley asked Harper, who was climbing into the back of the car they were in to point her gun out the window. "Harper! Get back in the front! You need to put your seatbelt on!" He barked at her. Two of the drivers she had run off the road were long gone, heads smashed against the windshield as they ran into a tree. Wesley was going fast...and Harper was just beginning to notice in her adrenaline high. The trees rushed past the windows quicker than she could think, "Wesley! Slow down! No one's behind us anymore!" Harper turned to head into the front seat. "Oh says the one without her fucking seatbelt on! You should know not to take it off Harp-" Her leg was just over the front counsel when she looked up to see one of the black cars they had lost swerving around the corner to face them, only a few thousand feet from them now. "WESLEY LOOK OUT!!"She screamed cutting off his lecture and Wesley slammed on the brakes, Harper's foot got snagged between the seat and the center counsel as she was stuck partially in the front and partially in the back of the car without any sort of seatbelt on. She was sent sideways as the car began to spin out. "FUCK!" He shouted.

Wesley tried to regain control of the vehicle as it whirled around, tires screeching so loud he thought his ears would bleed. The front end smashed into a fallen tree, just shy of the cliff with the ocean below but Harper was flung forward with the motion, her foot coming free with the motion and a painful snap as she flung through the windshield like a rag-doll, she landed in the grass but kept tumbling forward from the momentum. When she came to a stop, she was unconscious, having been knocked out by the force of hitting the ground. Her right leg dangled off the cliff as well as her right hand, completely unaware of just how close she was to fall over.

Wesley's head hit the steering wheel, the airbag deploying only seconds later. When he regained consciousness the sound of men telling him to get the fuck out of the car could be heard. It sounded like it was underwater but sluggishly, he opened the car door and slid out, not having seen where Harper had ended up at first. "H-Harper?" Wesley asked, his words slurring as he stumbled. One of the men who had shouted at him lurched forward to punch him in the gut causing Wesley to go to his knees.

Out of the corner of his eye, in the light of the one headlight that now worked, he saw blonde hair covered in a sickening amount of blood that was being washed away by the downpour. "HARPER!!" He screamed out, but he was knocked in the head with a rifle, causing blinding pain as he was sent sprawling to the ground. Spitting out blood as he practically kissed the muddied grass beneath him. His head had still been looking in that direction. He could see her twitch, a cry escaping her lips as she tried to heave herself up.

"Don't move!" One of the men closest to her barked at her. Harper's ears were ringing so loud, she couldn't hear the demand, instead trying to get up again. "I'm warning you! Don't move!" His voice was gruff and Wesley tried to speak, "H-HARP-!" It was silenced by a man pressing his foot against his throat. She was probably terribly confused, when she looked towards the car, Wesley could see the amount of blood seeping from the head wound. She could just bleed out any second. Her eyes, found Wesley's, but they didn't seem to register anything. "That's it-!" The man who had his gun trained on her said, before kicking his foot out and hitting her in the face. Harper cried out, and Wesley saw the ground crack around her as she tried to heave herself up further in response. When she had reached a standing position, the ground crumbled at her feet, causing the man to back up.

Wesley screamed her name, managing to get the man stepping on him to fall over as Wesley stood up to help her. Before much else could be done about it, gunfire ensued from somewhere outside of the scene. Taking out the men who had Wesley and Harper struggling to get out without any hesitation. Wesley wasn't hearing any of it though as he lurched forward, trying to run for her as he watched her start to fall. It was all happening so slowly, that he felt like he could grab her, that he could save her.

He had to. He wasn't going to go back without her. Wesley screamed things that he couldn't even register in his own head as Harper reached out for his hand, but the earth crumbled too fast, too suddenly and she was sent plummeting toward the dark ocean. "NOOOOO!" Wesley screamed, his eyes meeting hers as she disappeared over the edge of the cliff as his own hands clawed nothing but mudded grass beneath him now until his vision blurred and he lost consciousness

***​

"Wesley? Wesley? Can you hear me?" A distant voice called his name, but he felt heavy, to the point where he couldn't force his eyes open. "Let's get out of here! Back to headquarters!" That was the last thing he heard. The flight from England to Germany was only an hour and a half long. Halfway through, Wesley jolted awake, "HARPER!!"He cried out, having just felt her hand around his before she slipped and plummeted towards the ocean. Klaus jumped in his seat, along with a few other members of his team who he only brought with him in emergency cases. The German held up his hands in a way that told Wesley to settle down, "Careful, you've hit your head pretty hard, don't try to stand right now." Klaus met his eyes and Wesley looked at him for a moment longer before asking, "Where are we going?" He could see they were on a plane, where was she? "Where is she, Klaus? Please tell me you found her, that she's on this plane with us." Klaus suddenly could no longer meet his eyes and that was all the answers that Wesley needed. Despite being told that he shouldn't stand, the rage he felt inside of him at that moment took complete control, sending all reason out of his brain as he stood up abruptly and threw the nearest thing to him, a full water bottle, towards the back of the plane towards the cockpit. "FUCK!" He screamed out, fists balling before he pressed them against his eyes, a sob catching in his chest as he crumbled to his knees.

No one said a word, but Klaus stood, walking towards him before kneeling down beside him. Wesley stayed in his crumbled form, sobs continuing to control his body with full force as he shook violently. The world spun around him, how could they just leave without her? Suddenly, he snapped his head up, his anger now turning on Klaus, "WE SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT! WE COULD STILL FIND HER! WE CAN'T LEAVE HER BEHIND! WHAT IF SHE'S STILL OUT THERE!?!" Klaus flinched slightly as Wesley shoved his chest weakly but he didn't move from his spot, not until Wesley moved to push him again, which he would stand for. Klaus grabbed his wrists forcefully. "We had no other choice, Wesley! The eye of the storm was right over you when we arrived, the conditions were too dangerous for the dive team! We have to wait to find her, a few days it's set to clear up!! Screaming at me isn't going to bring her back!" The German's voice raised, but not as loud as his colleagues, his friend. He was trying to piece everything together, to make sure that in a few days, a search party would be ready to go.

Wesley had been silenced, hearing that they would have to wait a few days until the storm passed to look. She could be dead by then...or maybe... The man groaned out in anguish thrusting his palms against his eyes as he cried. "I promised to take care of her! I promised, Klaus! I told her I would always make sure she made it back to her family! I am a fucking-"He choked on his words. "She deserved it all! She needed it all! She was so much better than any of us! And now she's at the bottom of that fucking ocean! AND THEY WON'T EVEN HAVE HER BODY TO BURY! BUCKY WON'T HAVE HIS MOTHER! A BOY NEEDS HIS MOTHER! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME. I have nothing, no one who needs me as people need her. It should have been me." The entire plane ride was spent with him sobbing and in pieces, explaining what happened that led to Harper's fall all the while, he also thought about what the hell he was going to tell the people who loved her the most when they arrived back home.

~ Harper Elizabeth King - 02/28/1961 - 08/05/1993 ~​

 

[Bellz]

Chicago, Illinois
~ Saturday August 3rd,1946 ~

Lucy Sullivan
(20 years old)
​

Tonight, Lucy was meeting with a man that she had been set up with by a friend. To the woman, he didn't sound the least bit exciting but Lucy wasn't one to be rude especially when it came to her friends. After borrowing some rouge from Sinead, Lucy made her way down her family's spiral staircase to kiss her mother and father goodbye. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as she saw James Porter waiting in the entranceway. "James." Lucy greeted him, capturing his attention. He wasn't a man of many words or expressions but Lucy had become increasingly familiar with the subtle body signals he had. His eyes certainly couldn't hide what he thought of her outfit as she practically glided down the stairs. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Daddy have you on another pesky job?" She asked curiously. Her father was quick to step in and inform her that he would be her driver for the evening. Lucy let out a sigh, "You going to make James wait for me all night?" She had asked in defiance but her father just gave her a look that stated she better be home before the sun came up.

Not wanting to be late, Lucy accepted what her father was saying before looking at James. "Well, we should get going. Don't want to leave a gentleman waiting." She explained before saying goodnight to her parents. Once they headed out the door and into the car, Lucy sat in the front passenger seat, watching as James rounded the car to get into the driver's seat. "We are headed to the other side of town, to Le Fleur...that French restaurant that just opened up." She murmured. The first moments of the car ride were silent. Lucy had always found James Porter to be somewhat of a mystery, she'd never met a man who carried such control. Not a lot seemed to upset him and unlike the rest of the men in town, he didn't seem to want to talk about himself much. "I'm sure this isn't your first choice in jobs for my father...but I want to say thanks...for being on babysitting duty." Lucy said sweetly, looking over at him and giving him one of her sweetest smiles to match her honeysuckle voice.

"Now this might be brash of me to ask, Mr. Porter..." Lucy started, looking towards the windshield into the foggy night. "I noticed you don't have yourself a wife...if you were a woman most people would be calling you a spinster at this age. No ladies in this town suit your fancy?" The blonde smiled. Though she knew her father would never allow it, Lucy was pretty smitten with the man in the driver's seat. Many saw how Lucy dressed, heard how she spoke, and pegged her to be a woman who wanted nothing but the finer things in life. Sure she loved to be comfortable, but what Lucy desperately wanted in life was to find the type of love her own parents had. "I guess I really shouldn't be asking such a question when I myself am still very much single. All these men... just lack, substance. Most just see my blonde hair and automatically think they can buy my affection with diamonds or clothes." Lucy shook her head and sighed, "I don't even want to go on this date. This man is a pharmacist. Can there be anything more boring than that?" She huffed before looking at James, her scrunched nose softening as she looked at him, staring a little longer than she needed to. "You don't think of me as just some ditzy blonde...do you?" Lucy bit her lower lip softly, giving him a soulful puppy-eyed look. "I mean, if anyone in the family is the ditzy blonde, it's got to be Conor...right?"

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter
Chicago, Illinois
~ Saturday 3rd August, 1946 ~​

James had parked the car up outside the Sullivan mansion a couple of minutes before he was due to start his next job. Not wanting to arrive too early, but never wanting to be late, he figured his timing was perfect. After knocking on the door, he was invited inside the house by his boss, Emmet Sullivan. The first thing to catch James' attention was the chaotic sound of piano keys being hit and creating something of a racket from the nearby lounge. This was very quickly followed by the sound of the familiar high-pitched voice belonging to Sinead. "Conor! Stop hitting the keys in such an horrific order. In fact, keep your clumsy big hands away from the piano..."

James managed a subtle smirk as Emmet grumbled about his 18 and 19 years olds bickering. James had seen the Sullivans enough now to know Conor liked to joke around and Sinead was always the most fun to wind up, with her dramatic reactions. James soon snapped out of his thought of the middle siblings as he heard the sound of the eldest as she descended the stairs. Of all of the Sullivans, Lucy was the one who caught his interest the most. Not that he would ever act on it, of course. He valued his manhood and his life, so did not want to upset Shannon or Emmet Sullivan.

"Miss Sullivan," James greeted her, maintaining a neutral and professional tone. In the back of his mind, he'd already acknowledged how stunning she looked, even if he couldn't express it to her. When she asked why he was present, James looked to Emmet to let his boss do the talking. She also questioned whether he was going to wait for her all night. Regardless of the boss' response, James would have been willing to wait around all night. He was more than used to pulling all night job for the mob, be it driving people around or working on a stake-out. It was very rare James slept in his own home, having crashed out in his car for the night on many occasions.

When they went out to the car, Lucy got into the passenger seat before James had chance to get the door for her. Once he was in the driver's seat, he started the car and listened as Lucy told him where she was headed. Despite in his mind always thinking the restaurant looked pretentious, he simply nodded to confirm he knew where it was. As he drove, Lucy seemed to be in a talkative mood. Then again, Conor and Sinead were always chatty too. Conor's was usually drunken conversation, whilst Sinead's was non-stop excitable gushing. Lucy always managed to capture his interest much more than the others. Lucy thanked him for being on babysitting duty, speculating it wasn't his preferred job. "I can think of much worse jobs to be doing," he simply assured her, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Lucy then went on to point out that he was single, causing James to take his eyes off the road for a brief moment so he could turn to look at her. Focusing back ahead, he quickly shook his head. "There aren't many ladies who'd date a guy in this line of work. Most women I see are either desperate or lacking independence." There was definitely one woman who did take his fancy, but she was sitting next to him and to entertain such a thought would not go down well with his employer. He nodded in agreement when she spoke of all the men lacking substance, which mirrored his thoughts on most of the women he came into contact with. He chose not to respond to her commenting on most judging her by her hair colour, figuring she needed to get more off of her chest on the matter. He did, however, let out a humoured scoff when she mentioned her date was a pharmacist. "Put it this way. He'll never need to prescribe you sleeping pills. Good luck staying awake during your date," he remarked. Realising he'd perhaps spoken out of line, he cleared his throat. "I'm sure the date will be fine."

Although he'd avoided commenting on how she perceived people judged her in her earlier comment, she then directed a question about her being a ditzy blonde directly to him, making it impossible for him to ignore given how much it seemed to bother her. Stopping the car at the red light, he was able to turn to look the beautiful woman in the eyes and quickly shake his head. "Not at all, Miss Sullivan. You come across as a strong and intelligent woman," he assured her. He then turned back to the road ahead as he set off driving again on the green light. Thankfully, that saved him from having time to admire how good Lucy looked. He let out a chuckle when she said Conor was the ditzy blonde. "I can confirm that is correct. 100%," he remarked.

Soon enough they reached the restaurant in question and James made a point of pulling into the best parking spot before anyone else had chance to. "Do you know what Mister Pharmacy looks like?" he asked her as he took a moment to scrutinise their surroundings before he would let either of them step out of the car.

 

[Bellz]

Chicago, Illinois
~ Saturday August 3rd,1946 ~

Lucy Sullivan
(20 years old) ​

Lucy let out a laugh as James said the man she was seeing would never have to prescribe her sleeping pills. "Oh yes, just what I'm looking for in a man, someone to put me right to sleep. The bedroom is for more than just sleeping, ya know." She said, a flirtatious tone taking over for a moment. James cleared his throat, seeming to think he crossed some line. "Mmm, fine seems to be a word you use a lot, Mr. Porter. Starting to feel like there is a hidden meaning behind that word." Lucy looked at him for a long moment before looking towards her passenger side window. "Even if it doesn't go fine...I'll survive." She reassured, saying it out loud for herself more than for him.

Backtracking, Lucy addressed what he had said about ladies not wanting to date a man in his line of work. "Well that can't be all true, I mean my father's got, my mother. But then again, she's not desperate nor dependent on him. If you ask me, she's the one who runs the show. If you ask me, I think you have a lot to offer a woman." Lucy was sure she was going too far with what she just said, but she didn't want James to think any differently. The car came to a stop at the light and James turned to look at her. Their eyes met, faces only illuminated by the streetlamp in the intersection. A tingling feeling went down her back as he called her Miss Sullivan and the words that followed made her smile wider than she had in a long time. Before she could say anything with him facing her, he turned back to look at the road, the green light spoiling any moment they could have had. That had been the first time a man complimented her on her instead of her striking good looks. Lucy laughed softly as he confirmed that Conor was the ditzy one but like most conversations with James, it grew quiet.

Lucy let it stay that way as she once again turned to look out her passenger-side window. The bold part of her wanted to test the waters and make a move. But it was hard to tell if James was interested in her. Sure, she caught the looks he sometimes gave her when he thought she wasn't paying attention or the certain way he complimented her. But James wasn't like other men...the mystery of him tantalized her as well as frustrated her. All too soon, they pulled up to the restaurant, and Lucy looked out at it with her nose slightly scrunched. "Uh saw him in a picture that my friend had. Good enough look to find him in this place, I'm sure." Her tone sounded anything but excited. Lucy turned to look at him for a moment, watching as he scanned the area. "Coast all clear, doll?" She asked in a teasing voice before moving to open the car door herself. "I have a feeling I'm going to hate the menu here." She commented with a smile. "A boring place for a boring date. Charming." Rounding the car, Lucy looked at James for a long moment. "Daddy didn't tell you to scare this guy away, did he? He's been known for doing that." She said before looking down and adjusting her skirt and stockings.

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter
Chicago, Illinois
~ Saturday 3rd August, 1946 ~​

When Lucy made her comment about the bedroom being for more than just sleeping, James let out a low chuckle. "Oh, I wouldn't know anything about that," he drily remarked, though his knowing expression betrayed his words. The blonde woman commented on his use of the word 'fine', causing him to subtly shrug. "Maybe I should get the word trademarked... Maybe I'm just a simple bloke. Or at least a composed one. No need to speak in extremes, if unnecessary."

The woman in his passenger seat pointed out how her father managed to find a woman, suggesting some ladies would date a man in his line of work. She told him he had a lot to offer, but he wasn't sure he believed that. Italian enemies, a murdered father, and a mentally unstable younger brother, not to mention he rarely spent time at home. James wasn't sure which woman would commit to a man with that history under his belt. Not to mention the dangers that came with his work.

James smirked when Lucy said she'd seen a picture of her pharmacist date. "Well, if he shows up in a white lab coat, you won't miss him," he teased, flashing a smile at her. He nodded his head. "Good news is, the coast is clear. Bad news, I haven't seen any specky blokes in lab coats yet." When Lucy got out of the car, James wound his window down so he could hear her speak to him when she walked to his side. She seemed of the belief the restaurant and her date would be boring. "It's a shame. You strike me as a woman who deserves better than boring."

James quickly shook his head when she asked if Emmet had paid him to scare her date away. "Nah, but I'll throw the service in for free if you need me to." Clearing his throat and reminding himself he was talking to his boss' daughter, he sat up straight in his seat. "I won't get out of the car and cramp your style, but..." He pointed to the parking lot alongside the building. "I'm going to be parked around there if you happen to need a ride home," he assured her.

 

[Bellz]

Chicago, Illinois
~ Saturday August 3rd,1946 ~

Lucy Sullivan
(20 years old) ​

Lucy smirked as James said that she struck him as a woman who deserved better than boring. "I strike myself as the same, but unfortunately for me, Chicago is full of boring men. To add insult to injury, Daddy won't let me date anyone worth looking like this for. Shame really, having to find a respectable man. Being surrounded by men like yourself has really turned me off from the whole normal bit." That was as close as Lucy would get to saying what she felt about the man before her. She knew it was a dangerous game to play but Lucy loved danger and she loved a challenge.

"I'll be sure to holler if I need your muscles, Mr. Porter," Lucy said with a small smile. "Thanks again, doll." She said before sauntering towards the restaurant, leaving James to watch her go.

A half-hour had gone by with Lucy sitting at the table with the boring pharmacist and she was supposed to share. Feeling that she'd been humiliated enough, she stood from the table, swiping the bottle of wine she'd already opened from it. After giving the waiter the money for the wine, she had left a note for the man in question if he ever did show up with the host before storming out. People were staring at her and her cheeks were pink with both humiliation and rage.

Lucy marched towards where James had said he was going to be parked and just a few feet shy one of her heels broke, causing her to stumble. She let out a huff of frustration, not meeting James' eye as limped towards the car. Once inside the car, she was quiet as she moved to drink from the bottle of wine she'd paid for. After taking a swig, she looked out the windshield in front of her.

"Guess the boring pharmacist found me boring instead." She said, turning her head to look at him. "Go ahead," Lucy murmured softly. "I give you permission to laugh." The blonde said, wondering if he would. "The woman who was just huffing and puffing about going on this boring date is now upset that he didn't show." Shaking her head, she moved to take another drink from the bottle.

"All those people just stared at me like I was crazy...it's just-" Her jaw set, wanting to keep from saying something unladylike. "I got ready for nothing. I don't think men realize how much work we as women put into going on a date, the hours we waste trying to be something for someone else. She vented. "We are set to such high standards, how to dress, how to walk...hell, even our height and weight is scrutinized! Things we don't even have control over at times."

"It's not fair," Lucy murmured. "All of my friends are married and starting families now, you know? I'm the last one in my group from school." The blonde looked at James. "Societal pressure is starting to make me believe that maybe I'm the damaged one. That I'm the one with the problem." Her voice grew small, "But what's wrong with finding someone who accepts you for you? Not just the person you pretend to be."

There was a moment of silence as Lucy looked back towards the windshield. She then cleared her throat, "Sorry, you shouldn't have to hear me vent about such trivial things. Life of a woman I suppose, what a boring life it is."

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter
Chicago, Illinois
~ Saturday 3rd August, 1946 ~​

James couldn't help but smirk when Lucy told him Chicago was full of boring men. He knew a lot of women wanted respectable men, with a bonus if they were well dressed and wealthy. James knew he scrubbed up well, but unless he had to dress up to chauffeur the family members somewhere formal, he generally got to work in casual clothing. He was surprised to hear Lucy say men like himself had turned her off of the usual man seen around the city. She was making it very difficult for him to stay professional. Lucy was intelligent, independent, and gorgeous. However, as James was employed by her father, those were thoughts he had to keep to himself. Besides which, she was presently on her way to meet her date.

James had spent a good thirty minutes seated in his car as he worked surveillance in the area. Of course, most of his attention was focused on the fancy French restaurant and its surrounding area, wanting to make sure nobody or nothing untoward came anywhere near the place Lucy was in. He was sure by now she was sat dining with her Pharmacist date. As much as he didn't want her date to go badly, he couldn't help but find amusement in the mental image he had of it all. He could just imagine some boring bloke waffling on at Lucy and her, a woman way out of anyone's league, trying her best to stay awake for the evening.

Surprisingly, it was only half an hour before he saw Lucy limping towards his car whilst carrying a bottle of wine in her hand and a frustrated expression on her face. More than anything, he was concerned as to why she was limping and if he needed to go out to beat up some guy. James didn't get chance to ask what happened before the blonde got back into the car and informed him the pharmacist had stood her up. "I wouldn't dream of laughing," he assured her, a stoic expression on his often serious face. "He probably did you a favour. He wouldn't have been right for ya anyway, and you've probably been saved from having to sit through a date with him."

James watched as she took a swig from the wine bottle and then went on something of a tirade about how she'd put a lot of effort into getting ready for the date and that men didn't appreciate it. She then spoke of how unfair it was that women were set unfair standards about their appearance. James looked forward as he let Lucy get it all out in the open. Most of the women he'd dated had made the effort to get dressed up and they'd always looked good to him, but he liked to think he'd never given off the impression they had to look glamourous. When it came down to it, he was attracted to strong and smart women before anything else. Whilst physical attraction was a factor, it meant nothing to him if they lacked substance.

Once it seemed like Lucy had got everything off her chest, James allowed a moment of silence in case she needed to say more. Instead, her next words were an apology for him having to listen to her rant. He looked to her and shook his head. "No need to apologise. I'm a great listener. Talker... not so much," he informed her. "The things you were venting about, they don't sound trivial at all," he assured her. Whilst he led a solitary life and one where he counted every day as his last, he felt like that meant he had the privilege of not having to care what anyone thought of him. "It's easy for me to say, but you don't have to pretend to be someone else and I don't see anything 'damaged' about you. Just be you, Miss Sullivan." James had seen Lucy plenty of times when she was dressed up for a formal event, but he'd also seen her around the Sullivan home, when she was in casual clothes and relaxed around the place. In his opinion, she was attractive every time he saw her.

"Did you even get to eat in there?" he suddenly asked, looking to her with a glint in his eyes. "It's no snotty French restaurant, but there's a drive-through near here that has kept me fed on many a night shift. Junk food, of course, but they're damn good burgers. I can't be taking you back home on an empty stomach..." he offered, flashing a smile. "Especially as your mother scares me."

 

[Bellz]

Chicago, Illinois
~ Saturday August 3rd,1946 ~

Lucy Sullivan
(20 years old) ​

The blonde woman smirked as James said he wasn't a great talker, but rather a great listener. He had always been quiet which probably made it hard when he was driving Sinead around because the girl never stopped talking. Lucy could be a talker when she wanted to be, especially when she was upset or nervous as she was now. His words cheered her up and a smile crept on her face.

"Now I wouldn't say you aren't much of a talker, Mr. Porter. You certainly do have a way with words." Lucy complimented him before he asked if she even got to eat in the restaurant. "No actually, not unless you count this bottle of wine as food." She said with a shake of her head. When she looked into his eyes, there was an unfamiliar glint in them that she'd never seen before. He told her that the place he was suggesting wasn't a snotty French restaurant but the drive-through had good burgers. "Hey, I won't pass up on a good burger," Lucy said softly, feeling the hungry pit in her stomach.

She let out a laugh as James said that her mother scared her. "Well I don't blame you, she's a scary lady. I'm glad you are suggesting getting something to eat. I tend to get scared when I haven't had a proper meal, greasy junk food or not, I'm ready to eat something." Lucy murmured. When James pulled out of the lot once more, Lucy looked at the restaurant in the side mirror of the car and wondered if maybe on some level, everything was supposed to work out as it needed to.

Lucy was particularly excited about her date tonight and while she was furious she had been blown off as she had been, she was much happier in the company of the man sitting in the driver's seat next to her. "I must say, Mr. Porter, you should give yourself more credit where it is due, you've treated me with far more class and grace than any of the other 'suitable' men I've been with."

Realizing what that could have sounded like as if they were together or something, Lucy's cheeks blushed and she let out a small nervous laugh. "I mean...not that you and are...you know, but even while we aren't you are still treating me like a human. Any woman would be lucky to have you. Battle scars and all." Lucy murmured with a smile before taking another swig from the bottle of wine she'd brought with her.