Leigh&Keeley!Fic- Little Drop of Poison (1/1)- Pansy Parkinson/Adrian Pucey
Category: Harry Potter Fic
Title: Little Drop of Poison (1/1)
Authors: Leigh, aka
leigh_adams and Keeley, aka
baby_k21
Characters: Pansy Parkinson and Adrian Pucey
Rating: PG-13 (for mentions of gruesome death)
Summary: There was something about Adrian Pucey that gave Pansy the chills. But, until the job was done, she needed him.
The dim sunlight filtered into the dark pub through shuttered windows. The Spinning Wheel, a pub long favored by wizards of a seedier sort, was not the sort of place Pansy would usually frequent. However, it was where Adrian had requested they meet, and she needed a certain service that only he could provide.
Her heels clicked lightly on the worn wooden floorboards as she sent a warning glare to the bartender and the few patrons. They all glanced away hurriedly, none of them having the courage or stupidity to meet her eyes.
She settled into a back booth after wiping the dusty bench off. Adrian was nowhere to be seen, but then again, she was early.
Adrian Apparated into the back of the pub, his usual spot, and ran his bloody hands under the tap. He always hated this part the most, the cleaning up, but his victim had bled so much and so beautifully that it was necessary.
Once he was sure that his black robes were once again spotless, he eased out into the main pub and glanced around, spotting the younger girl sitting in the back. "Pansy," he said, inclining his head as he sat. "It's good to see you again." He meant the words, but there was something off about them just the same. His tone was odd, stilted.
He was thinking about how lovely she would look naked, her blood spilling darkly over that pale, pale skin as she cried out in agony.
"You as well, Adrian." Her nostrils flared slightly as she regarded him. She could smell something, the slightly metallic smell of blood permeating the area around them. After six months in Azkaban, it was a familiar scent. "Having a good evening thus far?"
He thought back to the woman he'd gutted earlier, remembered the way her blood had gushed out over his hands with a fondness most people reserved for memories of Christmas morning. "It's been quite enjoyable. And yours?"
"Very enjoyable, thank you. But I'm hoping its pleasure is about to increase," she said, folding her hands in her lap. She fixed him with her clear blue gaze, unwavering in its piercing quality. "I need your unique services, Adrian."
A small, unpleasant smile curled the corners of his lips. "You know the rules, duchess. Nothing personal." Something inside had quickened at her words, something dark and malevolent had bubbled up and he ruthlessly tamped it down. He wouldn't start that, he would not lose control.
Her lips curled up in the barest hint of a seductive smile. "Are you sure I can't persuade you to bend the rules just this once? I assure you, you'll be well compensated."
"Before I say no, again, why don't you tell me who and why?" he asked pleasantly, as if he were inquiring about the weather.
"I don't believe I will," she replied, pursing her lips. "Unless you agree to do this personal favor for an old friend. Until then, my motives shall remain wholly my own."
"Don't you trust me, Pansy?" he asked with another of the little smiles. He knew that she didn't, and she would be a fool to, in any case.
"I don't trust anyone, Adrian." And she didn't, not really. With a shake of her head, she grabbed her clutch and rose. "I can see this has been a wasted trip. Good bye."
"Sit down." It wasn't a request. When she didn't move, the muscles in his neck tightened and his head tilted to side slightly. "I said sit down, Pansy." The words were spoken softly, but there was a steel undertone to them.
She glared down her nose at him. "You'll find that commanding me to do something is not a wise idea," she said, her voice soft and dangerous. "Are you going to help me or not? Because if you aren't, there's no point in either of us staying here."
"Sit down and tell me who you want dead so badly and I'll consider helping you." There was a little corner of his mind railing against this, screaming that it was a bad idea. Everything else was gearing up in preparation for a hunt, for the sweet smell of fear. For blood.
Pansy stilled for a moment, then took her seat. From her clutch, she withdrew a photograph and pushed it across the table to her companion. "Alexander Mason."
He didn't pick it up, but glanced down once and pushed it back toward her. "I know him. Why do you want him on the receiving end of my unique services?" His lips quirked at the wording.
"He took something precious from me," she said, her blue eyes cold. "And for that, he must pay the price."
"Okay." He understood and respected that. "When do you want him gone?" He wanted to use the knife, or the garrote, he wanted to hear the man squeal in agony, but knew he couldn't. He was an Auror, and Adrian would need to use some finesse when dispatching him.
"As soon as possible," Pansy replied as she pushed a small vial across the table to him. "This is more than enough to do the job."
He took it, tucked it into his pocket as he rose. "You'll know when it's done," he remarked softly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I left a few loose ends when I came here. I have to go cut them now." This time when he smiled, it was pure pleasure.
There was something about Adrian Pucey that gave Pansy the chills. But, until the job was done, she needed him. "Happy hunting, Adrian."
He bent in a mock bow and Apparated out.
Her eyes lingered over the spot that he had just vacated. It'd been four years, four long years, but Pansy was finally going to have her revenge. Her only regret was that she wouldn't be there to see the life fade from Alexander Mason's eyes the way she had watched the same happen to her father.
Title: Little Drop of Poison (1/1)
Authors: Leigh, aka
leigh_adams and Keeley, aka
baby_k21
Characters: Pansy Parkinson and Adrian Pucey
Rating: PG-13 (for mentions of gruesome death)
Summary: There was something about Adrian Pucey that gave Pansy the chills. But, until the job was done, she needed him.
The dim sunlight filtered into the dark pub through shuttered windows. The Spinning Wheel, a pub long favored by wizards of a seedier sort, was not the sort of place Pansy would usually frequent. However, it was where Adrian had requested they meet, and she needed a certain service that only he could provide.
Her heels clicked lightly on the worn wooden floorboards as she sent a warning glare to the bartender and the few patrons. They all glanced away hurriedly, none of them having the courage or stupidity to meet her eyes.
She settled into a back booth after wiping the dusty bench off. Adrian was nowhere to be seen, but then again, she was early.
Adrian Apparated into the back of the pub, his usual spot, and ran his bloody hands under the tap. He always hated this part the most, the cleaning up, but his victim had bled so much and so beautifully that it was necessary.
Once he was sure that his black robes were once again spotless, he eased out into the main pub and glanced around, spotting the younger girl sitting in the back. "Pansy," he said, inclining his head as he sat. "It's good to see you again." He meant the words, but there was something off about them just the same. His tone was odd, stilted.
He was thinking about how lovely she would look naked, her blood spilling darkly over that pale, pale skin as she cried out in agony.
"You as well, Adrian." Her nostrils flared slightly as she regarded him. She could smell something, the slightly metallic smell of blood permeating the area around them. After six months in Azkaban, it was a familiar scent. "Having a good evening thus far?"
He thought back to the woman he'd gutted earlier, remembered the way her blood had gushed out over his hands with a fondness most people reserved for memories of Christmas morning. "It's been quite enjoyable. And yours?"
"Very enjoyable, thank you. But I'm hoping its pleasure is about to increase," she said, folding her hands in her lap. She fixed him with her clear blue gaze, unwavering in its piercing quality. "I need your unique services, Adrian."
A small, unpleasant smile curled the corners of his lips. "You know the rules, duchess. Nothing personal." Something inside had quickened at her words, something dark and malevolent had bubbled up and he ruthlessly tamped it down. He wouldn't start that, he would not lose control.
Her lips curled up in the barest hint of a seductive smile. "Are you sure I can't persuade you to bend the rules just this once? I assure you, you'll be well compensated."
"Before I say no, again, why don't you tell me who and why?" he asked pleasantly, as if he were inquiring about the weather.
"I don't believe I will," she replied, pursing her lips. "Unless you agree to do this personal favor for an old friend. Until then, my motives shall remain wholly my own."
"Don't you trust me, Pansy?" he asked with another of the little smiles. He knew that she didn't, and she would be a fool to, in any case.
"I don't trust anyone, Adrian." And she didn't, not really. With a shake of her head, she grabbed her clutch and rose. "I can see this has been a wasted trip. Good bye."
"Sit down." It wasn't a request. When she didn't move, the muscles in his neck tightened and his head tilted to side slightly. "I said sit down, Pansy." The words were spoken softly, but there was a steel undertone to them.
She glared down her nose at him. "You'll find that commanding me to do something is not a wise idea," she said, her voice soft and dangerous. "Are you going to help me or not? Because if you aren't, there's no point in either of us staying here."
"Sit down and tell me who you want dead so badly and I'll consider helping you." There was a little corner of his mind railing against this, screaming that it was a bad idea. Everything else was gearing up in preparation for a hunt, for the sweet smell of fear. For blood.
Pansy stilled for a moment, then took her seat. From her clutch, she withdrew a photograph and pushed it across the table to her companion. "Alexander Mason."
He didn't pick it up, but glanced down once and pushed it back toward her. "I know him. Why do you want him on the receiving end of my unique services?" His lips quirked at the wording.
"He took something precious from me," she said, her blue eyes cold. "And for that, he must pay the price."
"Okay." He understood and respected that. "When do you want him gone?" He wanted to use the knife, or the garrote, he wanted to hear the man squeal in agony, but knew he couldn't. He was an Auror, and Adrian would need to use some finesse when dispatching him.
"As soon as possible," Pansy replied as she pushed a small vial across the table to him. "This is more than enough to do the job."
He took it, tucked it into his pocket as he rose. "You'll know when it's done," he remarked softly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I left a few loose ends when I came here. I have to go cut them now." This time when he smiled, it was pure pleasure.
There was something about Adrian Pucey that gave Pansy the chills. But, until the job was done, she needed him. "Happy hunting, Adrian."
He bent in a mock bow and Apparated out.
Her eyes lingered over the spot that he had just vacated. It'd been four years, four long years, but Pansy was finally going to have her revenge. Her only regret was that she wouldn't be there to see the life fade from Alexander Mason's eyes the way she had watched the same happen to her father.