another short one
Title: Carried away.
Word count: 1,290
Warnings: strong language, allusion to sex, minor violence, and outright abuse of the italics tag. it's got everything!
Summary: Rookie mistakes in the criminal underworld can be costly-at least for those who make them.
Y1M9D24. Y1M11D19. Y2M3D7.
The phone rang three times before she got an answer. “Yes, Ms. Stiles?”
“Patch me through to the boss.”
“Of course, Ms. Stiles.”
…The three continue to progress as well as they ever have, yet as their powers become manifest, I must wonder whether the danger inherent in their mere existence is truly as low as my commissioner claims. The fourth, meanwhile, has yet to ascend, but I feel his time may soon be at hand…
This time, the phone rang several more times before a smooth male voice finally answered. “Isn’t it a bit early for your report?”
“Don’t fucking play me, Bliss.”
“I wasn’t aware I had been.” His leisurely tone only served to irritate her further. “Care to explain?”
She rifled through the documents again-letters, lab reports and torn-out journal entries-as if looking over them a third or fourth time would alter their contents. “I found what you wanted, but there’s not a single goddamn thing in here that has anything to do with Janvs. Not a one, Bliss.”
There was a pause, just long enough to be contemplative, on the other end. “What, exactly, did you find?”
“I don’t know,” she growled, flipping through the entries. “Some magic bullshit-a bunch of numbers, something about bridles, and the Destroyer-is this some sort of weapons development log?”
“Why would you think that?”
She snorted and began to read a choice passage. “‘I fear the power of this one may well threaten the very fabric of existence, yet still my commissioner does not object.’ What does that sound like to you?”
There was another, slightly longer pause.
“That sounds golden,” he finally replied, and she could have sworn she detected a hint of triumph in his voice. “Your mission hasn’t changed, Bambina. Bag it all and bring it to me.”
She rolled her eyes, answering “Yes, sir,” with a mocking tone, but nevertheless gathered the various papers and carefully folded them into her handbag. “And what about the mark?”
“What about him?”
Bambina eyed the mark in question, who was only barely beginning to stir. She found her dress on the floor and stepped into it, carefully cradling her di-comm between shoulder and ear as she pulled it back up. “Can I kill him?”
“No.”
“But why?” she asked with exasperation, switching her di-comm to her other side as she slid the straps back over her shoulders. “He’s not going to do anything but keep on being a pain in our side-”
“Yet his use to us could well outweigh that. Besides, there’s no fun in dominating the market without a little competition.”
Again she rolled her eyes, and strode over to the mirror above the desk to check her face. A soft groan came from behind her. “Can I do anything to him?”
“Nothing he could potentially sue us for.”
At that, Bambina glanced back at her handiwork on the bed. “Too late for that.”
There was yet another pause, and then a sigh. “Just don’t get carried away,” he said, and then cut the connection.
“Tch, carried away.” She snapped her di-comm shut, stuffed it into her handbag, and turned back to face the bed. Despite her sour mood, the view was a rather nice one, what with her mark lying spread-eagled on the bed, hands cuffed to either post of the headboard.
It was almost a pity that he had to wake up, though he did so slowly, blinking awake and squinting down his chest at her in groggy confusion. “Why’d…you put your clothes back on?” he asked blearily, after a long pause.
“Sorry,” she said with as sweet a smile as she could muster, leaning back against the desk, “but I do have to be leaving soon.”
He blinked again, and tried to move-but was halted by the cuffs on either wrist, and his look of confusion returned in full force. “Then why’d you…?”
“Precautionary measures, Mr. Vierste.” Bambina spread her hands out behind her, searching the desk for any sort of implement… “I couldn’t have you interrupt my search, after all.”
“Search…?” Comprehension finally seemed to dawn on him as he looked around the room, finally noticing the strewn papers and general disarray. “Wh-What the hell-”
“So sorry for the mess,” she said, just as sweetly as before. “Mr. Bliss was very adamant that I find those papers of yours for him, so I didn’t have much choice.”
At the mention of Bliss’s name, a look of rage suddenly came over his face. “Bliss- You fucking tricked me, you bitch-!”
Her hands came across something long and smooth, a handle of some sort-but she had to keep herself from sighing in disappointment as she explored further and found only bristles. A brush simply wouldn’t do for this. “Please, dear, there’s no need for such language.”
“Yes there fucking is!” he snapped, thrashing against the cuffs. “Whatever you took, fucking put it back-”
“I’m only going to warn you one more time.” Her smile fell, but her tone remained cool and composed. “Didn’t your mother raise you with any manners, Mr. Vierste?”
He swore again, seemingly to spite her. “Yeah, fucking warn me,” he snarled, still tugging at the cuffs. “Because that’s really what you came here to do.”
“As a matter of fact,” she answered calmly, hand closing on a letter opener, “Bliss did want me to give you a warning of his own.” She brought it in front of her to get a better look at it, turning it over in her hands and watching the warm bedroom lighting reflect off its silver edge. “He’s always been a man who prefers to multitask-killing two birds with one stone, as he would say.”
“Yeah?” Vierste was seething now, though he had ceased struggling against his restraints. “And what warning might that be?”
Bambina couldn’t keep herself from smiling again as she crossed the room in a few long strides, back to the bed, where she plunged the letter opener into his bare thigh. The cry of shock and pain that followed was all too worth it.
“Fucking hell-”
Keeping the letter opener firmly in place, she had to hold his leg down with her other hand to keep it from thrashing-but she still couldn’t keep from smiling as she spoke again. “Bliss is a fair man, you know. Keep running your small-time operations as much as you like-but the second you try and step foot into his territory again, be prepared to face the consequences.”
Vierste didn’t seem to be listening; he fought even harder against the cuffs, all but screaming in pain. “You bitch, you fucking whore, why the fuck would you-fuck-”
Her smile only sharpened. “And one more warning, for good measure,” she said, voice returning to that too-sweet tone as she ripped the letter opener down his thigh, pulling an even louder cry from him. “Don’t ever insult a lady.”
With that, Bambina finally pulled away from him, leaving the letter opener in place as she wiped blood off her hand and onto a strewn sheet. As she gathered the rest of her clothing, her handbag and the spoils within, she hummed a small tune, not quite so loud as to drown out Vierste’s agonized cries but just enough to provide a pleasing accompaniment.
It would have been nice to say and listen a bit longer, but as things were, she was already pressed for time-and so she simply bade Mr. Vierste good night, blew him a kiss, and wondered, as she exited the penthouse, what more she could do when Bliss would finally allow her to get carried away.
Word count: 1,290
Warnings: strong language, allusion to sex, minor violence, and outright abuse of the italics tag. it's got everything!
Summary: Rookie mistakes in the criminal underworld can be costly-at least for those who make them.
Y1M9D24. Y1M11D19. Y2M3D7.
The phone rang three times before she got an answer. “Yes, Ms. Stiles?”
“Patch me through to the boss.”
“Of course, Ms. Stiles.”
…The three continue to progress as well as they ever have, yet as their powers become manifest, I must wonder whether the danger inherent in their mere existence is truly as low as my commissioner claims. The fourth, meanwhile, has yet to ascend, but I feel his time may soon be at hand…
This time, the phone rang several more times before a smooth male voice finally answered. “Isn’t it a bit early for your report?”
“Don’t fucking play me, Bliss.”
“I wasn’t aware I had been.” His leisurely tone only served to irritate her further. “Care to explain?”
She rifled through the documents again-letters, lab reports and torn-out journal entries-as if looking over them a third or fourth time would alter their contents. “I found what you wanted, but there’s not a single goddamn thing in here that has anything to do with Janvs. Not a one, Bliss.”
There was a pause, just long enough to be contemplative, on the other end. “What, exactly, did you find?”
“I don’t know,” she growled, flipping through the entries. “Some magic bullshit-a bunch of numbers, something about bridles, and the Destroyer-is this some sort of weapons development log?”
“Why would you think that?”
She snorted and began to read a choice passage. “‘I fear the power of this one may well threaten the very fabric of existence, yet still my commissioner does not object.’ What does that sound like to you?”
There was another, slightly longer pause.
“That sounds golden,” he finally replied, and she could have sworn she detected a hint of triumph in his voice. “Your mission hasn’t changed, Bambina. Bag it all and bring it to me.”
She rolled her eyes, answering “Yes, sir,” with a mocking tone, but nevertheless gathered the various papers and carefully folded them into her handbag. “And what about the mark?”
“What about him?”
Bambina eyed the mark in question, who was only barely beginning to stir. She found her dress on the floor and stepped into it, carefully cradling her di-comm between shoulder and ear as she pulled it back up. “Can I kill him?”
“No.”
“But why?” she asked with exasperation, switching her di-comm to her other side as she slid the straps back over her shoulders. “He’s not going to do anything but keep on being a pain in our side-”
“Yet his use to us could well outweigh that. Besides, there’s no fun in dominating the market without a little competition.”
Again she rolled her eyes, and strode over to the mirror above the desk to check her face. A soft groan came from behind her. “Can I do anything to him?”
“Nothing he could potentially sue us for.”
At that, Bambina glanced back at her handiwork on the bed. “Too late for that.”
There was yet another pause, and then a sigh. “Just don’t get carried away,” he said, and then cut the connection.
“Tch, carried away.” She snapped her di-comm shut, stuffed it into her handbag, and turned back to face the bed. Despite her sour mood, the view was a rather nice one, what with her mark lying spread-eagled on the bed, hands cuffed to either post of the headboard.
It was almost a pity that he had to wake up, though he did so slowly, blinking awake and squinting down his chest at her in groggy confusion. “Why’d…you put your clothes back on?” he asked blearily, after a long pause.
“Sorry,” she said with as sweet a smile as she could muster, leaning back against the desk, “but I do have to be leaving soon.”
He blinked again, and tried to move-but was halted by the cuffs on either wrist, and his look of confusion returned in full force. “Then why’d you…?”
“Precautionary measures, Mr. Vierste.” Bambina spread her hands out behind her, searching the desk for any sort of implement… “I couldn’t have you interrupt my search, after all.”
“Search…?” Comprehension finally seemed to dawn on him as he looked around the room, finally noticing the strewn papers and general disarray. “Wh-What the hell-”
“So sorry for the mess,” she said, just as sweetly as before. “Mr. Bliss was very adamant that I find those papers of yours for him, so I didn’t have much choice.”
At the mention of Bliss’s name, a look of rage suddenly came over his face. “Bliss- You fucking tricked me, you bitch-!”
Her hands came across something long and smooth, a handle of some sort-but she had to keep herself from sighing in disappointment as she explored further and found only bristles. A brush simply wouldn’t do for this. “Please, dear, there’s no need for such language.”
“Yes there fucking is!” he snapped, thrashing against the cuffs. “Whatever you took, fucking put it back-”
“I’m only going to warn you one more time.” Her smile fell, but her tone remained cool and composed. “Didn’t your mother raise you with any manners, Mr. Vierste?”
He swore again, seemingly to spite her. “Yeah, fucking warn me,” he snarled, still tugging at the cuffs. “Because that’s really what you came here to do.”
“As a matter of fact,” she answered calmly, hand closing on a letter opener, “Bliss did want me to give you a warning of his own.” She brought it in front of her to get a better look at it, turning it over in her hands and watching the warm bedroom lighting reflect off its silver edge. “He’s always been a man who prefers to multitask-killing two birds with one stone, as he would say.”
“Yeah?” Vierste was seething now, though he had ceased struggling against his restraints. “And what warning might that be?”
Bambina couldn’t keep herself from smiling again as she crossed the room in a few long strides, back to the bed, where she plunged the letter opener into his bare thigh. The cry of shock and pain that followed was all too worth it.
“Fucking hell-”
Keeping the letter opener firmly in place, she had to hold his leg down with her other hand to keep it from thrashing-but she still couldn’t keep from smiling as she spoke again. “Bliss is a fair man, you know. Keep running your small-time operations as much as you like-but the second you try and step foot into his territory again, be prepared to face the consequences.”
Vierste didn’t seem to be listening; he fought even harder against the cuffs, all but screaming in pain. “You bitch, you fucking whore, why the fuck would you-fuck-”
Her smile only sharpened. “And one more warning, for good measure,” she said, voice returning to that too-sweet tone as she ripped the letter opener down his thigh, pulling an even louder cry from him. “Don’t ever insult a lady.”
With that, Bambina finally pulled away from him, leaving the letter opener in place as she wiped blood off her hand and onto a strewn sheet. As she gathered the rest of her clothing, her handbag and the spoils within, she hummed a small tune, not quite so loud as to drown out Vierste’s agonized cries but just enough to provide a pleasing accompaniment.
It would have been nice to say and listen a bit longer, but as things were, she was already pressed for time-and so she simply bade Mr. Vierste good night, blew him a kiss, and wondered, as she exited the penthouse, what more she could do when Bliss would finally allow her to get carried away.