Fic: A Kiss from a Handsome… Mafia Boss [1/2]

[jade_dragoness]

*stares at the clock* Sooooo... it's past midnight! Next fic!

Title: A Kiss from a Handsome… Mafia Boss [1/2]
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry Dresden/John Marcone
Spoilers: Post ‘Turn Coat’
Summary: Fairy godmothers are a freaking pain!
Word Count: 4,310 for this part. Total: 11,790
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: Thank you beachkid for not only the beta but also for making the fic better! Based on cliche_bingo Card Slot #3 - Fairy Tales & Folklore
Feedback is hugely welcomed.
*-*-*-*

“What do you mean you‘ve been cursed by your fairy godmother?” The incredulity and wide-eyed expression on Murphy’s face were cute. The smile and twitching corners of her lips were less so.

“Come on, Murph. This is serious,” I said. My voice may have come out a little whinier than usual, but I’ll deny it to my last breath.

She just smirked.

“Until I break the curse I can‘t use my magic,” I said soberly. I ran my fingers through my hair and resisted the urge to yank. If I did that every time I was frustrated with my life, I’d be bald by now. Of course, with the scars across my face, I’d probably look badass. Or like a starving, battered, hairless scarecrow. Whatever.

The humor drained from Murphy’s face. “The curse is that serious?”

I nodded. “And without my magic, I‘m a sitting duck.” I made a duck bill with my hand like I was making a shadow puppet. “Quack, quack.”

If it got out that I didn’t have my magic, everyone and everything that wanted a piece of me would come out of the woodwork in order to get a bite of Dresden Pie. It was not my life’s ambition to end up as some monster’s dessert, or even the main course.

“Why would she do that to you?” she asked, frowning. “Didn‘t you tell me once that she was concerned about protecting you?”

“Yeah, she wanted to keep me safe… by turning me into one of her hounds,” I grumbled. I took a swallow of Mac‘s dark beer and sighed. That situation wasn’t exactly one I considered safe. Sure, it would have kept me from being killed, but then I would have been a dog for the rest of my life. I won’t even go into how I managed to wiggle out of that. I’ll be here forever.

“How did she get close enough to do this to you?” Murphy asked, after taking a drink from her own bottle.

Murphy, more than most people, knew I didn’t let down my guard easily, especially not around magical beings like the fae. That the Lenansidhe is my fairy godmother is no reason to relax.

“She has a tie to me. Even with Mab taking the debt I owed on herself. Lea has a channel to me that has nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact that she‘s my godmother,” I explained. “What really worries me is that she isn‘t doing this for giggles. She has a point she‘s making. Only I have no idea what it is or why she‘s doing it.”

Now that was what really had me running scared, for a reasons other than not being able to protect myself when the monsters came after my ass. My fairy godmother, the Leanansidhe, is one of the toughest Sidhe around. Once, I would have said she was on par with the Queen of the Winter Court. Now, I knew she wasn’t in her weight class; yet she was still stronger than the Lady of Winter, the youngest of the Winter queens, and therefore the only being in the Winter Court that could come the closest to challenging Mab in terms of power. She had tried that, and gotten herself locked up for her troubles. Then sometime this year, she’d been freed.

And one of the first things she’d chosen to do was to tie my magic up with a freaking fae curse.

The only positive thing going for me was that she wasn’t trying to get me killed, at least not on purpose. According to Bob, my aura was normal. My status as a magus was still visible for anyone that cared to look with their Sight, and I was giving off that tingle of power that would give me away to any practitioner. I just couldn’t access any of it. Not even enough to light the candles in my apartment.

I live in a basement apartment, without any electrical light because light bulbs don‘t last more than a handful of days around me. This was big problem.

“So, how do you break it?”

“The curse?” I asked.

“What else are you looking to break, Harry?” Murphy asked, rolling her eyes.

“Well, the head of my fairy godmother seems a rather attractive target right now,” I said, grumpily.

Murphy grinned, “I’ll never get over the fact that you have a fairy godmother. So, where‘s the handsome prince that‘s going to sweep you off your feet?”

I blinked rapidly, then slapped my face with my hands and groaned.

“What is it?”

“It can‘t possibly be that? Can it?” I asked myself. Dread was already making my guts cold.

“Harry,” Murphy said, impatiently.

I looked at her. “A kiss to break a curse. There‘s a reason that it’s the traditional fairytale cure-all. You remember when Jenny Greenteeth went after Georgia and Billy.” Murphy nodded. I sighed in irritation, “The fae have entirely too much interest in kissing.”

Now Murphy’s smile was wide and her eyes were actually twinkling. Twinkling, of all things.

“You need to find a prince to kiss you?” she asked. The glee in her voice was entirely unnecessary.

I gave her an exasperated look. “Come on, Murph. I doubt it‘s that literal.”

“Just as well,” Murphy said, still grinning. “I think there‘s a real dearth of princes in Chicago.”
*-*-*-*

“I think that the Sergeant has the right idea, boss,” Bob said.

I looked up from the book on curse breaking that I’d been flipping through, hoping to find a cure to my own situation. With no such luck, might I add.

“Well, kind of the right idea,” Bob continued. “There aren‘t exactly a lot of royalty hanging around in modern day Chicago. Now, New York probably has a few. But I think the Big Apple has one of everything, considering its population and reputation… ooh, think about the strip joints alone!”

I rubbed my face with my hand and sighed. “Bob, I‘m not really in the mood. Explain what you mean about Murph having the right idea, would you?”

Bob’s skull eyes, really more like orange lights, brightened. “The fae curse that your fairy godmother put on you has the usual standard clause to break it. Only the idea of what can be considered royalty in this day and age has shifted around than what it used to was back in the good old Dark Ages.”

I frowned. Bob kept track of the ways that the rules of magic changed. Using his knowledge helped me a lot in figuring out how spells could be made. But this was a new one. “What do you mean, Bob?”

“Most of those old fairytales came from countries that had royalty, which had noble bloodlines. They’re used to them. Their royals are part of their collective cultural background. But this country hasn‘t had a king or queen since its current inception. So, the concept of nobility here is more tied to wealth and status than to bloodlines. For the most part.”

“So, I need to find someone who‘s wealthy and famous and then somehow convince them to kiss me?” I asked, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Not quite, boss,” Bob said. “Being wealthy isn‘t enough. They have to have power. Real power.”

“Magical power?” I asked. Several people came to mind.

“No,” Bob answered, with a shake of his skull. “Actually, having any kind of arcane power would be detrimental. In those old-school fairytales, the royal is always a regular human. It has to be the kind of power that involves having an effect over the lives of people, like a politician or a CEO. If you knew a Kennedy that‘d solve your problem. Or even a former president.”

I snorted. My life was never so easy. “So,” I said slowly, “I need to convince a powerful, famous, wealthy and vanilla normal mortal to kiss me in order to get my magic back?”

“That‘s right!” Bob said cheerfully. “With full on tongue action! And I’d stick to a male, just in case you’re supposed to be the fairytale princess in this scenario. You know, just to be on the safe side.”

I glared at Bob. “Princess?” I asked indignantly. I was not the princess. No matter what story you stuck me in, dammit. I was a wizard! I had the large staff and everything!

Spare me the compensation jokes, please.

“Hey! Think that you could break the curse in front of me?” Bob asked, ignoring my glower. His eyes became even brighter with his excitement.

“No!”

“Aw, I‘m just asking for research purposes,” Bob said sulkily. He pouted surprisingly well for a skull without lips.

I rolled my eyes. Then I thought about what this information meant for being able to get my magic back any time soon. I was drawing a blank on who I knew that fit those parameters.

“Come on, Harry! I won‘t even ask for new romances for a month!”

“Stars and stones, Bob, I don‘t even have a clue to who to ask for that kind of favor. I’m not ready to deal with you too,” I groaned.

“You‘re kidding right?” Bob said, his eyes blinking at me.

“Kidding? Why would I be kidding?” I asked, looking at him in surprise. This was about getting my magic back. Of course I wasn’t kidding around.

“Because you do know someone who fits all those parameters,” Bob said. “And I’d bet a stack of porn that he‘d do it, too!”

“Who?” I asked, trying to figure out who in the world Bob could be talking about. Then an awful suspicion made my stomach drop down around my knees. I did know one man who fit all the requirements that the curse needed to be broken: he was wealthly, powerful, downright infamous and was as mundane on the magical power scale as Mister. Hell, probably lower. After all, Mister was a cat.

“…Stars and stones,” I groaned, “don‘t tell me you‘re talking about John Marcone.”

“Okay,” Bob said, leering. “I won‘t tell you.”

I cursed some more. Then I considered how completely vulnerable I was without my magic and how terrible I felt without the hum of it under my skin, without that effervescent energy that was so much a part of all that was good in my life. I groaned in disgust and despair. The lack of it alone would kill me even if a monster didn’t manage to get to me first.

“Damn, damn, damn,” I said as I pressed my hand over my eyes. I should have blocked my ears instead because then I’d have blocked out Bob’s snickering.

I sighed in annoyance.
*-*-*-*

“Mr. Dresden, I can‘t say that I‘m pleased to see you, as I would prefer if my building wasn‘t set on fire today,” Marcone said coolly. He was in that his office on the floor above Executive Priority, the one that looked more like a professor’s study than that of a criminal kingpin. It was stacked with filing cabinets and books. Marcone had gotten enough warning of my arrival that the computer on the walnut wood desk was turned off and disconnected from the electrical outlet.

I wasn’t able to resist glaring at him for his smart-assed comment. That was my shtick, dammit.

Okay, so Marcone did have a point about the property damage. I just wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying so. Hendricks glowered right back at me from Marcone’s side, looking not at all pleased that I was giving his boss the stink-eye. Surprisingly, Gard was nowhere to be found. Huh, probably off on another one of the days off she got once in a while.

Marcone gestured to the seat in front of his desk and I reluctantly sat down. Hendricks moved off from his boss’ side over to door. The skin on the back of my neck prickled. It was a struggle, but I managed to smooth out my expression before I bit out. “I need a favor.”

Yeah, I could feel a portion of my soul wither away at those words, never mind the nasty aftertaste they left in my mouth.

Marcone’s eyebrows arched up. “A favor?” Marcone asked, the corners of his old dollar bill green eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “What kind of favor can I do for you, Mr. Dresden?” He tilted his head slight as he looked me over.

No doubt, he was trying to figure out what my angle was in coming to him. It wasn’t something I was known for, after all. I didn’t like the idea of getting into debt with him and he knew that, but here I was.

I squirmed for a moment. Then I shot Hendricks an annoyed look before asking Marcone, “I don’t suppose I can talk to you alone?” Hendricks’ expression grew darker. Marcone just looked at me calmly. Yup, no chance in hell. “I didn‘t think so,” I sighed. So, I braced myself and just blurted it out. “I need you to kiss me.”

Marcone blinked once before his eyes widened slightly. Which, admittedly for Marcone was the equivalent of a full out jaw drop. Hendricks made a low choking noise before coughing furiously. I ignored him and kept my eyes on Marcone, though I could feel my cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“It isn‘t what you think,” I said quickly. And Stars, I didn‘t even want to know what Marcone thought it was. “I need it to break a spell.”

Marcone leaned back on his expensive-looking chair, steepled his hands and asked mildly, “What sort of spell - I assume that it’s a curse - requires that I kiss you?”

“Stars and stones, I hate this,” I muttered under my breath. I once again debated whether this was actually worth it. Then I remembered that I’d rather be in debilitating pain for the rest of my life than lose my magic. That at one point I had decided that I would rather risk being subjugated by a freaking Fallen angel than give up being a wizard. I could handle Marcone being a pain in my ass for a while if it meant I got my magic back.

The crinkled corners of Marcone’s eyes became more pronounced and his lips twitched up. He was enjoying this way too much.

“A faerie curse, okay!” I snapped. I crossed my arms and glowered at Marcone.

“Have you managed to upset the Queen of Winter?” Marcone asked, the amusement smoothed out of his face.

“No,” I sighed. “I‘ve been cursed by the Leanansidhe. She’s my fairy godmother.”

That information earned me another choked noise from Hendricks. I shot him an annoyed look. “What? A lot of people have godmothers. Mine just happens to be one of the fae, okay.”

“I was not aware that you had fairy godmother,” Marcone said, sounding absolutely fascinated.

“You don‘t know everything about my life,” I pointed out.

“No,” Marcone agreed. “I haven‘t been able to uncover everything. Yet.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. And I couldn’t help but wonder at that odd low undertone to his words. How much had Marcone found out about me? I took a deep breath and once again throttled my impulse to shout. I also ignored the corner of my mind that noted how incredibly flammable everything looked and whispered that just because I couldn’t use magic that didn’t mean that I couldn’t use fire. I wasn’t a pyromaniac, no matter how many burned down buildings I had attributed to my name.

“Exactly what has your fairy godmother done to you?” Marcone asked, and he looked more amused than I’ve ever seen him.

I grimaced. I’d known that Marcone would want to know exactly what was wrong. I’d been hoping he wouldn‘t ask. I know, I know. Apparently I haven’t gotten all the optimism beaten out me yet.

“It involves my magic, okay,” I finally said. “Helping me break it wouldn‘t do anything to you. I swear.”

“Interesting. So… if I did you this favor, what would I get in return?” Marcone asked, his expression back to being cool and assessing.

“I don‘t know, John,” I said sarcastically. “How about you count it towards me pulling your ass out of the fire with the Denarians?”

“If we are going to be keeping count of how often we save each other’s lives, I‘m certain the scales tips more in my favor,” Marcone said, dryly.

I ground my teeth and took a deep breath. “Fine… what do you want?” The sharp smile curling up Marcone’s lips made me tack on, “Within reason!”

“Then I don‘t suppose getting you to work for me would be on the table?” asked Marcone.

“No!” I snapped. “No way!” I kept my expression firm with my denial and tried to keep the sinking feeling in my stomach from showing on my face. If Marcone really wanted to rope me into working for him… I don’t know if I could resist for long, if it meant I got my magic back. It wasn’t like I had many options. Bob and I had talked about it for hours. Marcone was pretty much it.

Marcone still looked amused. “Very well. I didn‘t think it was likely that you would say yes to such a proposition.”

“Then why did you ask?” I growled, growing more and more frustrated with Marcone’s games. After all theses years that we’ve known each other, Marcone knew how I’d react to his question so he had no reason to ask. Unless, he was trying to gauge the level of my desperation. Hell, considering I’d shown up here, I’d say I was already showing I was pretty desperate.

“It was just an idle thought,” said Marcone. His head tilted slightly to the side. “How about you allow me to address by your first name without protest?”

I scowled and bit back my reflexive denial. I really hated when Marcone used my name. He wasn’t a friend of mine and I sure as hell didn’t want anyone to start thinking that he was. Dammit!

“Fine,” I said, after a long minute. Being able to tell Marcone to stop calling me Harry was one of my few pleasures when I had to deal with him. The idea of letting him get away with it made me want to sulk like a teenager grounded on a Friday night.

“Then it‘s a deal,” said Marcone with a nod. “I will pick you up from your apartment at eight o‘clock.”

“Eight o‘clock,” I repeated, like an idiot.

“It is the traditional time to begin a date,” Marcone pointed out, that small smile tugging at the corners of his lips again.

I stared at him in total confusion. “What? What date?”

Marcone arched an eyebrow at me. “I don‘t consider myself to be the sort of man that kisses before a first date.”

“Are you kidding me?” I yelped.

Hendricks made that choking noise again. I had to wonder if the guy was turning blue by now, but a quick glance over my shoulder just showed he was turning the same shade of vivid red as his hair. I looked back at Marcone, whose face was serious as he stared at me.

And the sinking feeling came back into my stomach. Hell, he really wasn’t kidding.

“It is currently 4:45 pm,” said Marcone, with a look at his watch. I didn’t recognize the brand but it was bound to be as costly as the rest of his wardrobe. It made me desperately wish that my ability to kill anything electronic was still in effect. “There will plenty of time for you to get ready for our dinner. I will see you then, Harry.” His voice practically caressed my name.

I continued staring at him in disbelief.

“I do believe that you know the way out,” Marcone continued calmly, not even looking at me anymore. So I stood up and walked out of Marcone’s office in a daze.

“What in the hell just happened?” I demanded of the empty air once I was back in my car. The Blue Beetle remained silent. I started up my car and headed back to my apartment. I had something more frightening to face than the monsters I’d thought would be coming after me. A freaking date with Gentleman Johnny Marcone, the mob boss of organized crime in Chicago, the only vanilla mortal freeholding lord in existence and one of the deadliest men around.

I swore at myself, at Bob and especially at my fairy godmother for getting me into this mess in the first place.

A date with Marcone. Hell’s bells.
*-*-*-*

I was feeling annoyed as I shoved my way into my apartment past the steel security door I had installed. My cat Mister, having waited for this, barreled into my legs affectionately, trying to knock me off my feet before heading outside. Mouse was awake. He greeted me with a lolled out tongue and doggy grin. I took a moment from my low grumbling about ever saving Marcone’s life to scratch the thick grey ruff behind Mouse’s neck.

“You know when I say that my life can’t get any worse?” I asked him, as I dug my fingers in deep.

Mouse looked up at me with his tail wagging away in delight.

“Bite me when I say that next time, will you?” I sighed. “Because it inevitably does.” I got a doggy lick at my fingers as I let go of Mouse. I went to make sure that his punch bowl of a food dish wasn’t empty and added more kibble when I saw it was low. Then I took him for a long walk around the neighborhood.

Once I got back, I had no more excuses and went down to my workshop subbasement to face Bob‘s leering.

“Hey! Boss, did you get some tongue-on-tongue action from Chicago‘s most eligible criminal bachelor?” asked Bob, entirely too eagerly for my peace of mind. “Oooh, did you go further? Was there humping involved? Were clothes ripped off? No, your clothes seem to be in one piece. Too bad. Come on! Spill!”

“There was no kissing,” I said flatly.

Bob made a disappointed and horrified noise. “Not at all?” he asked plaintively. “You didn’t even warrant a pity peck?”

“Calm down, your porn stack is safe,” I grunted. “He wanted a date first.”

Bob was quiet for a moment. Then he burst out laughing so hard that his skull rocked back and forth on the shelf that held him. A couple of partially melted candles actually fell off.

I glared at him.

“A date!” snickered Bob. “That‘s even better than just a getting a kiss! Oh wow, are you going to put out?”

“Bob, shut up!” I bellowed, my cheeks reddening at the suggestion. “There will be no putting out! From anyone!”

“It‘s just that you haven‘t been laid since Luccio, and you‘ve been so gun-shy since you found out she‘d been mind-whammied into it. And it‘s not like you have any other person in your Rolodex that fits the bill to break the curse,” said Bob. His laughter made his eyelights brighten even more.

I fervently wished that my magic was back so that I could blast him into pieces. “I don‘t have a Rolodex,” I said, lamely.

“I was talking about me,” Bob said cheerfully.

“You know I still have the hammer around here somewhere,” I said. I looked around. I could swear I had last seen it by Molly’s little desk only a few days ago. Now that she knew that Bob could talk, she often started conversations with him - against my advise - and she needed the use of it more than I did to keep him in line.

“Aw, Harry, don‘t be that way,” said Bob, the orange lights in his sockets dimming as he looked around nervously.

I rubbed my face with my palm. “Are you sure that there isn‘t anyone else that fits the requirements to break the curse?” I asked desperately. I had asked this question before. But I was hoping that in the hour or so since I’d left Bob would have managed to find someone else. Anyone else.

“You can‘t stand up Marcone!” gasped Bob in exaggerated horror. I couldn’t tell if he was feigning it or not. “That‘ll get you into as much trouble as this curse could. And Marcone would really make it hurt. Anyway, you need your magic back before too long. It’s already been two days!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I sighed. Even if no one could see that I didn’t have my power, I had no way to earn my living without my magic. And the money from being the Eastern Regional Commander of the Wardens was still a pittance, even with the recently approved raise. I didn’t even want to consider what would happen when the call came for my help, and how many people would be hurt, when I wasn’t able to answer it. Even the fact that I hadn’t been attacked by anyone yet was more to due to luck than anything else. I couldn’t relay on that to keep working on my side forever.

Plus, I had extra responsibilities: I was Molly’s magic teacher and I was the final line of defense for the Paranet. And, if that wasn’t enough, I had rent due and two extra mouths to feed with Mouse and Mister.

“So, what are you going to wear on this date?” Bob asked eagerly, breaking me out of my gloomy thoughts. “Other than the coat, what do you have that can be considered sexy? I don‘t suppose you own a pair of leather pants? Hey, maybe you could borrow something from Thomas!”

I buried my face in my hands and groaned.
*-*-*-*

TBC in [Part Two]!

a/n: Next part will be up tomorrow! =D