Chocolate #17, Amaretto #13, Vinegar #14
Title: Just Another Day at the Office
Prompts: Chocolate #17: freedom, Amaretto #13: tall tale, Vinegar #14: remain seated while ride is in motion
Rating: PG13 for violence and language
Characters: Firebird Blaze, Nicky Nails, Felix Wade, Paul Robinson, Tucker Nielson
Summary: Gah! This turned out so much longer than I expected! Two years after Firebird is boss. It’s just another typical day at the office for our favorite Mob Boss. This may turn into something more than just a one-shot because Tucker gave me tons of inspiration, but I make no promises of a real plot showing up here anytime soon. And yes, Paul is this badass :)
There was one short knock on Firebird’s office door then it opened.
“Hey Boss, here’s the bastard you wanted,” Felix said, throwing said bastard onto the carpet.
Firebird held up a finger in the universal ‘wait’ sign but didn’t otherwise turn her attention away from her phone conversation. “I would expect no less, Mr. Chang. Your payment will be available upon delivery, as usual.”
Nicky Nails looked at the blue-haired man in his late teens scrambling to get up off the floor. “He’s still got some fight in him,” Nicky observed then smirked at his son-in-law. “You thought he was too cute to beat up or something?”
“Fuck no,” Felix snapped defensively, “The Boss said to bring him in unharmed.”
“That’s very kind of you. I certainly will give him your regards,” Firebird said into the phone, a small smile curving her lips.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, boy,” Nicky Nails told the schmuck when he started straining savagely against the bindings on his hands.
“Of course. I look forward to doing business with you again,” Firebird said, followed by a pause. “Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Chang. Give your wife my best.”
Firebird set the phone down then picked up her pen and made some notes on the ledger in front of her. “See him to a chair, please,” she told Felix, still not paying any real attention to the newcomer.
“Right.” Felix jerked the man off of his ass and pushed him towards the pair of straight back armchairs situated in front of the behemoth of a desk. The man struggled viciously but Felix had ample experience containing people that would rather be somewhere else.
“Sit the fuck down,” Felix barked, and pushed the man into the chair hard enough that it went back on its hind two legs before settling back on the lush carpet with a muffled thump. Felix pushed him back in the seat when he tried to stand back up. “Stay down, you stupid fuck, or I’ll make you.”
“I don’t like strapping people down to these chairs,” Nicky Nails said, sitting down beside him in the other chair. “This is an antique set.”
“Fuck every one of you assholes! And fuck you, bitch!” the punk yelled at Firebird. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”
She looked up then, making eye contact for the first time. “Firebird Blaze. The head of the Blaze Family,” she answered mildly. “But I had you brought here so you could tell me who the fuck you think you are.”
“You mean you pulled me out of my fuckin’ house and you don’t fuckin know who I am?”
“Oh, no,” Nicky said with a smirk. “We know who you are. You’re Tucker Nielson, a two bit thief that runs a street gang fresh off the playground. She asked who you thought you were. Because what you’ve been doing lately in our city has got us wondering what delusions of grandeur you’ve got running about under that stupid hair of yours.”
Tucker’s glare transferred to Nicky. “Shut the fuck up, old man!”
“That’s enough,” Firebird cut in before Nicky could show Tucker just how much he liked being told to shut up. “Mr. Nielson, it would be wise of you to calm down so we can have a civil conversation because I can assure you that you won’t like an uncivil one. “
“I’ll show you fuckin uncivil,” Tucker snapped and shut his mouth.
Paul tensed from his usual spot behind Firebird and took a step forward. “Don’t-”
Tucker hawked a loogie straight at Firebird. Paul’s hand shot out, nothing but a blur, and he caught the flying spit in his broad palm just inches from Firebird’s face.
“You little fucker!” Felix yelled and punched Tucker in the stomach. Tucker wasn’t able to defend himself as well as he normally could have because his hands were still bound, and Felix took full advantage of that.
“Son, you should be playing ‘ball with hands as fast as those,” Nicky observed.
Firebird pulled a handkerchief out of her desk drawer and handed it to her thoroughly disgusted bodyguard. “Thank you, Paul.”
“Gag that asshole or something,” Paul grumbled, wiping repeatedly at his hand. “I don’t want to have to do that again.”
“We’ll try one more time to be reasonable,” Firebird compromised with Paul, “Then you can gag him yourself if he doesn’t cooperate.”
“Alright,” Paul agreed, then turned his attention to the culprit. “Felix, stop hitting him in the head. We need him conscious.”
Felix stepped back from Tucker, breathing a little heavier from the extra exertion. He pointed one blood-flecked finger in Tucker’s newly battered face. “Fuckin try to spit at my boss again and I’ll make you eat your tongue.”
Tucker spat a mouthful of blood onto the carpet and glared up at Felix. “Piss off, you pansy ass. That’s the best you can do?”
“Mr. Nielson,” Firebird barked. “That is more than enough. You will not leave until I say you can, so stop making this difficult for yourself and cooperate with me.”
Tucker looked at Firebird, defiance shining in his eyes, the left one of which was starting to swell, but now there was finally a bit of logic there as well. “I remember you and that know-it-all attitude you’ve got goin’ on. We went to middle school together, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” Firebird confirmed. “We had Algebra together.”
“I remember that,” Tucker spat on the carpet again. “So Mrs. Heatherwilde managed to produce two gang leaders. If I'd actually paid attention in her class I bet I could calculate the odds of that.”
Firebird raised an eyebrow, “The differences between you and me far outweigh any similarities we might have because of our shared academic history. Namely, I’m a professional running a legitimate enterprise and you’re nothing but a wannabe that stockpiles crowbars.”
Tucker bared his bloody teeth in a gruesome mockery of a smile. “My crowbars sure did a number on all those mom ‘n pop shops you’re supposed to be protecting, didn’t they?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I invited you here today,” Tucker snorted derisively and Felix smacked him upside the head. Firebird ignored the exchanged and continued, “To try and come to an agreement with you. Those shops pay me to protect them from the low tech smash-and-grabs you and your street gang have become so proficient at. I will uphold my end of the agreement with them, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to suffer for it.”
Firebird let her gaze roam over Tucker’s battered face and body. “Well,” she smirked a little, “Suffer more, anyway.”
“You’re a real riot, sweetheart.” Tucker snapped. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m giving you three options. Option 1: you may continue as you are now and I will take the appropriate actions to stop you. Please remember that you lead a street gang formed in high school hallways that operates out of your mother's kitchen, whereas I am the fifth generation leader of a criminal family that controls this town from the gutters to the governor’s office. From one leader to another, I wouldn’t advise you take this route for the sake of all of your people that rely on you.”
Tucker snarled, “Fuck you, sweetheart. You don’t know the first thing about my people.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Firebird replied calmly, “I can still have every last one of their throats cut before the day is out.”
Tucker snarled again and Firebird raised a hand to stop his tirade. “That’s only option one, Mr. Nielson. There are two more that I would like you to consider.”
“What?” Tucker snapped.
“Your second option is to cease what you’re doing and make reparations with the shops you knocked over that were under my protection. This means returning all of the goods you stole plus repairing any damages you caused, including giving the owners money to compensate for their emotional distress. An apology would not be out of place, either.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than this asshole,” Tucker jerked his head at Felix, “Using me for boxing practice to make me say sorry.”
“Oh but I can do so much more to make you change your mind,” Felix promised Tucker.
Firebird gave Felix a warning look that shut him up quick then focused back on Tucker. “I imagined you would say that. I remember you were rather defiant even as a middle schooler. That leaves option three.”
“Which is?”
“I will pay for all of the repairs and compensate the stores' losses out of my own pocket. You will pay off the debt you’ve incurred with me as a result by putting your gang’s talents to work for me.”
“Yeah, that’ll happen,” Tucker snorted derisively.
Firebird bowed her head. “That is, of course, your choice, but I think you’ll find it’s your best one. There are many perks to working for me, besides the fact that I won’t destroy you or make you apologize.”
“Such as?”
“You had to limit your target range to shops with little security and open windows for you to smash your way in to. You’re low tech and your take reflected that, didn’t it?”
“We did just fine, sweetheart.”
“I can make you do more than fine. You need equipment, you need richer targets, and you need a real fence, not that two-faced snake you’ve been working with on Halstead Avenue. I can provide all three.”
“Why are you doing this?” Tucker asked, suspicious. “What are you going to gain from pulling us in?”
“Free labor,” Firebird answered honestly. “And if any of you get caught, it’s not my problem. Make no mistake, the heat will be squarely on you, but you’ll be amply compensated for the extra police attention. I can guarantee you’ll more than triple your profits under my protection, minus the payments on your debt and my cut of the profits, of course.”
Tucker’s defiance was present, but diminished. He was suspicious, naturally, but Firebird knew how to solicit his attention. She knew that Tucker was well aware of how outmatched he was should he try to go to war with the Blazes. It would be like attacking a tank with a flowered flipflop. She also knew that he didn’t like the idea of being under Firebird’s thumb either, but she could see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. The temptation of money would be more than enough to convince Tucker that perhaps Firebird’s thumb wasn’t so hard to live under after all.
Now was the time to back off and let his own shoulder devil whisper seductive encouragements into his ear. “I won’t ask for an answer right now, Mr. Nielson.”
“Stop calling me that,” Tucker glared. “I knew you before you had boobs. Fuckin call me Tucker.”
Firebird’s lips quirked upwards a little while Nicky outright grinned around his cigar. “I can’t imagine more appropriate grounds for informality,” Firebird murmured. “Tucker, you’re welcome to think on my proposition. Of course, if you knock over any shop in town, regardless of whether the owners have asked for my protection or not, then I will consider your decision made to follow option one.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Tucker grunted. “Are we fuckin done? I’m hungry and your pansy ass delivery boy pulled me away from my dinner.”
Firebird turned her attention to her soldier. “Felix, please see our guest back to his home. And be sure to give him our calling card. I’d like him to have a memento of his visit here.”
Felix popped his knuckles and grinned for the first time during this meeting. “Oh, I can promise you that he won’t ever forget us when I’m finished delivering our card.”
Tucker stood up and got in Felix’s face. “You fuckin touch me again, pretty boy, and I’ll show you how ugly I can make you.”
“You promise?” Felix asked as his grin took on a decidedly evil glint. He pushed Tucker forward into the hallway, making sure to shut the office door behind himself.
“You’re such a soft touch,” Nicky Nails sighed as soon as the door shut. “Your daddy would have put that dumbass underground for insulting him like that boy tried to do to you.”
Firebird rolled her eyes. “There are more than enough useless fools in this town to fertilize my gardens without me burying the ones that might come in handy.”
Paul snorted from the corner. “You only say that because he didn’t spit into your hand.”
Prompts: Chocolate #17: freedom, Amaretto #13: tall tale, Vinegar #14: remain seated while ride is in motion
Rating: PG13 for violence and language
Characters: Firebird Blaze, Nicky Nails, Felix Wade, Paul Robinson, Tucker Nielson
Summary: Gah! This turned out so much longer than I expected! Two years after Firebird is boss. It’s just another typical day at the office for our favorite Mob Boss. This may turn into something more than just a one-shot because Tucker gave me tons of inspiration, but I make no promises of a real plot showing up here anytime soon. And yes, Paul is this badass :)
There was one short knock on Firebird’s office door then it opened.
“Hey Boss, here’s the bastard you wanted,” Felix said, throwing said bastard onto the carpet.
Firebird held up a finger in the universal ‘wait’ sign but didn’t otherwise turn her attention away from her phone conversation. “I would expect no less, Mr. Chang. Your payment will be available upon delivery, as usual.”
Nicky Nails looked at the blue-haired man in his late teens scrambling to get up off the floor. “He’s still got some fight in him,” Nicky observed then smirked at his son-in-law. “You thought he was too cute to beat up or something?”
“Fuck no,” Felix snapped defensively, “The Boss said to bring him in unharmed.”
“That’s very kind of you. I certainly will give him your regards,” Firebird said into the phone, a small smile curving her lips.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, boy,” Nicky Nails told the schmuck when he started straining savagely against the bindings on his hands.
“Of course. I look forward to doing business with you again,” Firebird said, followed by a pause. “Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Chang. Give your wife my best.”
Firebird set the phone down then picked up her pen and made some notes on the ledger in front of her. “See him to a chair, please,” she told Felix, still not paying any real attention to the newcomer.
“Right.” Felix jerked the man off of his ass and pushed him towards the pair of straight back armchairs situated in front of the behemoth of a desk. The man struggled viciously but Felix had ample experience containing people that would rather be somewhere else.
“Sit the fuck down,” Felix barked, and pushed the man into the chair hard enough that it went back on its hind two legs before settling back on the lush carpet with a muffled thump. Felix pushed him back in the seat when he tried to stand back up. “Stay down, you stupid fuck, or I’ll make you.”
“I don’t like strapping people down to these chairs,” Nicky Nails said, sitting down beside him in the other chair. “This is an antique set.”
“Fuck every one of you assholes! And fuck you, bitch!” the punk yelled at Firebird. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”
She looked up then, making eye contact for the first time. “Firebird Blaze. The head of the Blaze Family,” she answered mildly. “But I had you brought here so you could tell me who the fuck you think you are.”
“You mean you pulled me out of my fuckin’ house and you don’t fuckin know who I am?”
“Oh, no,” Nicky said with a smirk. “We know who you are. You’re Tucker Nielson, a two bit thief that runs a street gang fresh off the playground. She asked who you thought you were. Because what you’ve been doing lately in our city has got us wondering what delusions of grandeur you’ve got running about under that stupid hair of yours.”
Tucker’s glare transferred to Nicky. “Shut the fuck up, old man!”
“That’s enough,” Firebird cut in before Nicky could show Tucker just how much he liked being told to shut up. “Mr. Nielson, it would be wise of you to calm down so we can have a civil conversation because I can assure you that you won’t like an uncivil one. “
“I’ll show you fuckin uncivil,” Tucker snapped and shut his mouth.
Paul tensed from his usual spot behind Firebird and took a step forward. “Don’t-”
Tucker hawked a loogie straight at Firebird. Paul’s hand shot out, nothing but a blur, and he caught the flying spit in his broad palm just inches from Firebird’s face.
“You little fucker!” Felix yelled and punched Tucker in the stomach. Tucker wasn’t able to defend himself as well as he normally could have because his hands were still bound, and Felix took full advantage of that.
“Son, you should be playing ‘ball with hands as fast as those,” Nicky observed.
Firebird pulled a handkerchief out of her desk drawer and handed it to her thoroughly disgusted bodyguard. “Thank you, Paul.”
“Gag that asshole or something,” Paul grumbled, wiping repeatedly at his hand. “I don’t want to have to do that again.”
“We’ll try one more time to be reasonable,” Firebird compromised with Paul, “Then you can gag him yourself if he doesn’t cooperate.”
“Alright,” Paul agreed, then turned his attention to the culprit. “Felix, stop hitting him in the head. We need him conscious.”
Felix stepped back from Tucker, breathing a little heavier from the extra exertion. He pointed one blood-flecked finger in Tucker’s newly battered face. “Fuckin try to spit at my boss again and I’ll make you eat your tongue.”
Tucker spat a mouthful of blood onto the carpet and glared up at Felix. “Piss off, you pansy ass. That’s the best you can do?”
“Mr. Nielson,” Firebird barked. “That is more than enough. You will not leave until I say you can, so stop making this difficult for yourself and cooperate with me.”
Tucker looked at Firebird, defiance shining in his eyes, the left one of which was starting to swell, but now there was finally a bit of logic there as well. “I remember you and that know-it-all attitude you’ve got goin’ on. We went to middle school together, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” Firebird confirmed. “We had Algebra together.”
“I remember that,” Tucker spat on the carpet again. “So Mrs. Heatherwilde managed to produce two gang leaders. If I'd actually paid attention in her class I bet I could calculate the odds of that.”
Firebird raised an eyebrow, “The differences between you and me far outweigh any similarities we might have because of our shared academic history. Namely, I’m a professional running a legitimate enterprise and you’re nothing but a wannabe that stockpiles crowbars.”
Tucker bared his bloody teeth in a gruesome mockery of a smile. “My crowbars sure did a number on all those mom ‘n pop shops you’re supposed to be protecting, didn’t they?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I invited you here today,” Tucker snorted derisively and Felix smacked him upside the head. Firebird ignored the exchanged and continued, “To try and come to an agreement with you. Those shops pay me to protect them from the low tech smash-and-grabs you and your street gang have become so proficient at. I will uphold my end of the agreement with them, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to suffer for it.”
Firebird let her gaze roam over Tucker’s battered face and body. “Well,” she smirked a little, “Suffer more, anyway.”
“You’re a real riot, sweetheart.” Tucker snapped. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m giving you three options. Option 1: you may continue as you are now and I will take the appropriate actions to stop you. Please remember that you lead a street gang formed in high school hallways that operates out of your mother's kitchen, whereas I am the fifth generation leader of a criminal family that controls this town from the gutters to the governor’s office. From one leader to another, I wouldn’t advise you take this route for the sake of all of your people that rely on you.”
Tucker snarled, “Fuck you, sweetheart. You don’t know the first thing about my people.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Firebird replied calmly, “I can still have every last one of their throats cut before the day is out.”
Tucker snarled again and Firebird raised a hand to stop his tirade. “That’s only option one, Mr. Nielson. There are two more that I would like you to consider.”
“What?” Tucker snapped.
“Your second option is to cease what you’re doing and make reparations with the shops you knocked over that were under my protection. This means returning all of the goods you stole plus repairing any damages you caused, including giving the owners money to compensate for their emotional distress. An apology would not be out of place, either.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than this asshole,” Tucker jerked his head at Felix, “Using me for boxing practice to make me say sorry.”
“Oh but I can do so much more to make you change your mind,” Felix promised Tucker.
Firebird gave Felix a warning look that shut him up quick then focused back on Tucker. “I imagined you would say that. I remember you were rather defiant even as a middle schooler. That leaves option three.”
“Which is?”
“I will pay for all of the repairs and compensate the stores' losses out of my own pocket. You will pay off the debt you’ve incurred with me as a result by putting your gang’s talents to work for me.”
“Yeah, that’ll happen,” Tucker snorted derisively.
Firebird bowed her head. “That is, of course, your choice, but I think you’ll find it’s your best one. There are many perks to working for me, besides the fact that I won’t destroy you or make you apologize.”
“Such as?”
“You had to limit your target range to shops with little security and open windows for you to smash your way in to. You’re low tech and your take reflected that, didn’t it?”
“We did just fine, sweetheart.”
“I can make you do more than fine. You need equipment, you need richer targets, and you need a real fence, not that two-faced snake you’ve been working with on Halstead Avenue. I can provide all three.”
“Why are you doing this?” Tucker asked, suspicious. “What are you going to gain from pulling us in?”
“Free labor,” Firebird answered honestly. “And if any of you get caught, it’s not my problem. Make no mistake, the heat will be squarely on you, but you’ll be amply compensated for the extra police attention. I can guarantee you’ll more than triple your profits under my protection, minus the payments on your debt and my cut of the profits, of course.”
Tucker’s defiance was present, but diminished. He was suspicious, naturally, but Firebird knew how to solicit his attention. She knew that Tucker was well aware of how outmatched he was should he try to go to war with the Blazes. It would be like attacking a tank with a flowered flipflop. She also knew that he didn’t like the idea of being under Firebird’s thumb either, but she could see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. The temptation of money would be more than enough to convince Tucker that perhaps Firebird’s thumb wasn’t so hard to live under after all.
Now was the time to back off and let his own shoulder devil whisper seductive encouragements into his ear. “I won’t ask for an answer right now, Mr. Nielson.”
“Stop calling me that,” Tucker glared. “I knew you before you had boobs. Fuckin call me Tucker.”
Firebird’s lips quirked upwards a little while Nicky outright grinned around his cigar. “I can’t imagine more appropriate grounds for informality,” Firebird murmured. “Tucker, you’re welcome to think on my proposition. Of course, if you knock over any shop in town, regardless of whether the owners have asked for my protection or not, then I will consider your decision made to follow option one.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Tucker grunted. “Are we fuckin done? I’m hungry and your pansy ass delivery boy pulled me away from my dinner.”
Firebird turned her attention to her soldier. “Felix, please see our guest back to his home. And be sure to give him our calling card. I’d like him to have a memento of his visit here.”
Felix popped his knuckles and grinned for the first time during this meeting. “Oh, I can promise you that he won’t ever forget us when I’m finished delivering our card.”
Tucker stood up and got in Felix’s face. “You fuckin touch me again, pretty boy, and I’ll show you how ugly I can make you.”
“You promise?” Felix asked as his grin took on a decidedly evil glint. He pushed Tucker forward into the hallway, making sure to shut the office door behind himself.
“You’re such a soft touch,” Nicky Nails sighed as soon as the door shut. “Your daddy would have put that dumbass underground for insulting him like that boy tried to do to you.”
Firebird rolled her eyes. “There are more than enough useless fools in this town to fertilize my gardens without me burying the ones that might come in handy.”
Paul snorted from the corner. “You only say that because he didn’t spit into your hand.”