[Log] Marco Maruko, Ulquiorra Schiffer

Dec 15, 2008 00:37

Title: Meeting in the Subway
Characters: Marco (lcpdragonslayer) and Ulquiorra (day_eight)
Timeline: June 3, 1950
Rating: PG-13 for swearing.
Summary: Ulquiorra and Marco meet to talk about the recent attack on the Concavos.

The train was not a service Marco used often. For one, he had enough money to afford a taxi. Secondly, he never stayed in one place long enough to become familiarised with the rail system and know how to get to a station, where to get off if he wanted to be somewhere, what buttons to press, et cetera...

Really, Ulquiorra could have just chosen a landmark. There were quite a few in Manhattan, and meeting there would not be at all suspicious. That and he could grab a bite and get distracted a little easier than if he was on a train. It also happened to be easier to keep their conversation a little more low-key.

Unless Ulquiorra was going to lead him somewhere. But then again, could he not have just given Marco the address and he could find his way there without this whole train fiasco?

Though there were many seats available at this time, he was leaning against one of the poles, arms folded as he chewed gum quietly to himself. Their meeting was not exactly planned to the very last detail but he trusted that Ulquiorra could find him. After all, Marco really only had one outfit when it came to greeting the Concavos - or anyone else he deemed remotely important.

The consigliere did not care for the subway. He didn't like the lines, the dirt, or the cramped quarters. Being enclosed in a metal box with dozens of strangers did not appeal to him in the least. It was much easier, not to mention more practical, to travel by car. And, since he had his own vehicle and a driver at his disposal, Ulquiorra only took the subway on very rare occasions.

Today was one such occasion. Meeting with Marco was risky enough as it was, but the recent attack on the orphanage had the police and the media in an uproar. Ulquiorra knew that he was being watched, perhaps even followed. Crossing paths with the FBI agent on the subway would not only be easy to dismiss, but would also allow him to keep an eye out for any unwanted shadows.

He kept his hands in his pockets, blending fluidly with the train’s jostling movement as he made his way through the car. It was Marco’s tie that he noticed first.

“I see that you managed to board on time,” he said, halting near the other man. He leaned against a pole, turning his head to take note of the other passengers.

Most people when they looked at women would look at their chest, or their eyes, or perhaps their shoes. Most people when they looked at Marco looked at his eyes, or his crotch, or maybe his shoes too.

Ulquiorra was the only idiot who actually identified him through his outstanding, unique light brown dinosaur skull tie.

"Of course. Did you expect me to board the wrong train?"

Marco rolled his eyes and offered a cheesy wide smirk as if he really did not board the wrong train.

"Don't worry. They're not tailing us, I'd say." Marco was actually trained to notice these things - though why any training was needed to supplement common sense was beyond Marco. But then again Quantico taught idiots how to take a gun out of its holster and pull the trigger. He could not put anything past them.

"So, what did you call me out here for? Sounded urgent over the phone, I'd say. Couldn't we have talked somewhere else?"

Marco had obviously missed the point. The ‘on time’ comment had been referring to his habitual tardiness, not his ability to find the right train. Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow, but refused to explain further. The agent was either being daft or sarcastic. Either way, the consigliere saw no need to acknowledge it.

He continued to scan the car for spies, stopping only once he had taken note of each and every face around them. Too many close calls had taught him that a job was never done right unless he did it himself. Marco was probably perfectly capable of spotting a tail, but Ulquiorra was not one to put his trust in someone else’s abilities. It was better to be safe than sorry.

“You don’t know?” he asked, addressing Marco’s question. “I’m surprised. I thought you would have heard about it, considering it’s been all over the news for the last few days.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Marco’s face. It was always difficult to determine whether or not the agent was being serious. Ulquiorra, considering himself fairly adept at reading people, found this to be incredibly annoying.

Perhaps Marco was truly clueless when it came to the reason for their meeting. Perhaps he was trying to be coy. Ulquiorra couldn’t decide which was more likely.

“An orphanage was bombed,” he explained. His voice lowered-not because he was being cautious, but because the words left a sour taste on his tongue. “Our orphanage.”

Oh, so was that what all the nervous talking on the streets had been about? The past half a week or so had been working on his case in New York City during the day and picking up and sleeping with girls by night. Marco could honestly care less about what was on the news - the less he knew, the better. And it wasn't like he picked up the newspaper everyday. He just had a job to do and orders to follow; nothing else really mattered or bothered him.

'Our orphanage'?

"They sell orphanages now? You bought 51% of it or something?" he asked. And then he added a teasing note. "How does that work? Does that mean that out of 100 kids you kinda own 51 of them?" Damn. Selling kids. That was illegal shit right there.

Though everything about the Concavos was illegal. But who would want to buy kids anyway?

"Maybe next time you should buy a gold mine. The gold wouldn't die in a fire. It can get blown up as much as you like and you'd just have to dig another hole to make another entrance to get inside, I'd say."

Ulquiorra gave the agent a blank stare. He didn’t have time for this nonsense. His stop was less than five minutes away, and they had yet to discuss anything of importance. Marco was lucky that he was a valuable asset; the consigliere didn’t usually tolerate that kind of sarcasm. However, Marco’s position outweighed his lack of respect. Plus, Ulquiorra suspected that the agent was always that smug. He decided to let it slide.

“Then you haven’t heard anything about it,” he deduced, completely ignoring Marco’s previous statements. “No word on who was behind the attack?”

Although the Concavos had their own idea on who had orchestrated the bombing, it was always wise to... get a second opinion, so to speak. The FBI was always brimming with information-sometimes useful, sometimes not. If there was one tiny scrap of evidence, one measly little clue, the FBI would know about it. That’s why it was important for the Concavos to have Marco on their side.

This time, however, it seemed like the FBI were as clueless as everyone else. Or... perhaps Marco hadn’t been paying enough attention. Whatever the case, the agent was now aware of the situation and would keep Ulquiorra posted on the FBI’s progress. It was imperative that the Concavos find the bomber before the authorities did. There was retribution to be dealt out.

"Nope aaaand nope." This was all new information to him; or at least, it was new information up until a few seconds ago.

But Marco's position and reputation were not baseless. He was well-placed and had countless people stringed and waiting to be manipulated. Information about something so widely-known would be easy to find; and naturally there would be more false information than there would be truths.

Something Marco could easily overcome, nevertheless.

"I'm guessing you'd wanna know before the John Laws do. It's no problem, I'd say."

He sighed quietly. The gum had all but run out of flavour.

"Two days. The file will be on your desk on the third's morning."

Efficiency and reliability were two things that every good informant was required to have. Luckily, Marco seemed to have them both in spades. Ulquiorra had little doubt that the report would indeed make it to his desk in two days time. The real test would be whether or not the information Marco collected would be useful.

“I’ll be expecting it, then,” he replied, pushing away from the pole as he prepared to leave. His stop was up ahead, and the train was already beginning to slow down.

He turned to walk away, but paused. “Try not to get lost on your way out.”

"Oh; just go blow yourself," Marco said with a sigh, loud and clear enough that the people surrounding them turned to look at their apparently heated conversation.

"I have a perfectly good sense of direction, I'd say." He was an FBI agent; getting lost just... wasn't something that went together with being part of the FBI, even if he didn't always like what came along with that title.

He could say all that - but he didn't know where this train was taking him or where he'd end up if he stayed here until the last stop.

"How do I get back?"

Marco’s reaction was, surprisingly, exactly what Ulquiorra had been expecting. Perhaps he was getting better at reading the agent’s behavior. Or, perhaps even more likely, he had simply managed to match up a guess with a random response. He clicked his teeth once, swaying slightly to keep his balance as the train came to a halt.

He wasn’t sure what to do. Part of him wanted to ignore the question-to leave Marco there with his perfectly good sense of direction. The other part warned him that it would not be wise to aggravate the agent. A displeased informant was less likely to come up with substantial information.

As always, his rational side took over.

“Get out at next stop. I’m sure you’ll be able to find your way from there.”

And then he was gone.

'I’m sure you’ll be able to find your way from there.'

God gave him clearer directions in his dreams than that.

Marco had no chance to comment before Ulquiorra disappeared. He sighed to himself and leaned back against the metal pole, gazing up to the ceiling. An explosion, huh...

He had a few names in mind. It could very well be the Concavos' enemy, but there was every chance that it could have been someone else.

Someone... outside of the picture, maybe.

Well, nevermind. He had the whole of the next two days to look it up.

The train stopped and the doors slid open. Stepping out, Marco cast a glance up and down the length of the platform. Following the masses was probably best at this stage... once he reached the surface level, he could easily catch a cab and make his way back.

The train sped past, and soon the undercover agent was but a nameless face in the crowd.

marco, log, lcpdragonslayer, day_eight, ulquiorra, kaboom arc

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