I figured if I put it on AO3 I would be obligated to finish it and not chicken out after one chapter.
TW: Death
-----------------------------------------------
Bela scanned the room that served as a cafeteria and weighed her options. It hadn't taken her long to learn the rules of her new home, and not the ones Mama Moseley gave out , but the code of the block. You wanted something, anything, and it all depended on who you knew and how much money you had. As it currently stood she had neither connections or money, something she needed to change.
Her eyes zeroed in on her target. Abaddon sat perched on top of one of the long tables surrounded by the adoring faces of her little team of criminals. Her lips were curled in a satisfied smile and her hands swished through the air as if conducting the story itself. Bela idly wondered what tale she was spinning that had the other merry murderesses so enthralled.
Bela squared her shoulders and quirked her lips into a smug yet warm smile, one that oozed confidence, and made her way over to the table wiggling her way in between Anna and Naomi with no apologies. She laughed at Abaddon’s next joke, inserting herself into the conversation.
The others continued to laugh, if somewhat more strained, and shifted their eyes to look at the newcomer flicking them between her and Abaddon. The one Bela had learned was named Tamera did not seem phased at all and reached over the rest to grab something off Tammi’s tray, a transgression that would not have been tolerated by anyone else but earned Tamara little more than an annoyed glance. Bela made a mental note.
“So, fresh blood. What are you in for?” Abaddon took a drag off her cigarette and pulled in a slow breath, tendrils of smoke escaping her lips and twisting their way to freedom. Her eyes were dark, she blinked lazily and left her lids half closed as if Bela wasn't worth the effort to lift them.
Bela inhaled and mentally prepared herself to spit out the same rehearsed story she and Mr. Roman has discussed over and over again. Bela opened her mouth to speak and Abaddon’s hand rose quickly as if she knew exactly what was happening in Bela‘s head.
“No, no, no. Not that story, anything but that story,” She punctuated it with an exaggerated eye roll. “We all have that story, I mean the real reason you’re here darling. What Johnny or Jill…” Her eyes briefly flicked to Tamara them back to Bela’s face. “…broke your heart and why. No need for bullshit here.” Abaddon flicked her cigarette and carelessly sent ashes flying.
Bela suppressed the wide grin she felt tugging at her mouth. Despite her better judgment she really liked Abaddon. She should have viewed this as little more than a power play, but the redhead’s lackadaisical way of sauntering through life left her head spinning and a million questions forming and dying on her lips.
“His name was Guy, real prick too. A jazz musician with a well tuned instrument.” Daring a bold move Bela reached out and drew the cigarette out of Abaddon’s lithe finger and pulled a long drag before handing it back and blowing the smoke over her shoulder. “We met, we fucked, he lied, and I blew him away. Both literally and figuratively. Not much else to it. Same old song and dance half the ladies in here have.”
Tammi huffed and gave a small wheezing laugh. Her tone was cynical and cold. “It’s never that easy .” Her eyes remained glued to the table the entire time she spoke.
Bela leaned forward and rested her chin in her hands and gave Tammi the ‘sweet eyes’ that usually left the men crumbling to their knees and asked, “So what about you then, what’s your story?”
Tammi finally looked up, a flash of some raw unnamed emotion flicked in her eyes before being replaced with her usual tough as a coffin nail mask she wore at all times. She splayed her fingers and held out her hands in a grand gesture and her face lit up as she eased into the role of story teller, “Enter in our male lead. Strong, lean, well off, well paid, and oh so generous.” She pulled one leg up underneath her and wiggled into a more comfortable position.
“Our leading lady cannot help but be drawn in - but the illusion of attraction only holds up for so long. Soon she tires of her he-man and craves something softer.” Tammi’s voice trailed off and she seemed to reconsider her story for a moment before continuing in a new direction. “That’s when I met her. Stunning blonde hair, fair skin - which I won’t lie looked really good stretched out next to mine, and a fire in her belly.”
Tammi pushed her wayward bangs out of her eyes and pursed her lips. “I should have never gotten involved with one of my students,” She shrugged and rolled her shoulders into the motion releasing tension, “but there was no way I was passing up on Ruby.”
Bela quirked up an eyebrow and silently urged Tammi on. Abaddon’s hand came into view as she held out an open pack of cigarettes to Tammi who took two. She stuck one behind her ear, “Oh but that wasn't the problem see,” she pulled out an old worn lighter and flicked it into life igniting the second cigarette. She pulled in a puff and exhaled before finishing. “See the problem wasn't Ruby. It was good old Ali. Not even sure if that was his real name or not.”
She laughed and flicked ashes into the cafeteria floor. “Fucking Ali and his stupid fucking controlling ways. He found out about Ruby, told me no one else could have me if he couldn't, what a cock” She shook her head, “Please. Could you get anymore cliché?”
The rest of the group murmured in agreement and nodded like a single entity. “I don’t think he could have hurt her if he had tried, but always better safe than sorry.” She pulled in another lungful of smoke. It was as natural as drawing in a breath of fresh air and Bela’s mind wondered how long the dark haired vixen had been indulging this little form of suicide.
“He comes home, I make him a drink - Earl Grey and whiskey - and I add a dash of my own secret ingredient.” Her face lit up with pride, “Little something I call ’holy water’. It’s a combination of Strychnine and a Hemlock tincture.” She let out a genuine laugh, the one you would let out on a carnival ride. “Took the bastard hours to die.” Tammi grabbed Tamara’s cup, a snub Bela assumed for her earlier theft, and downed the rest of it. “He had it coming.”
Abaddon reached out and ruffled Tammi’s hair in a strangely affectionate gesture. “Damn right he did.”
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Fill, Team Anna/Jo, Chicago AU
Date: 2013-10-02 11:35 pm (UTC)I figured if I put it on AO3 I would be obligated to finish it and not chicken out after one chapter.
TW: Death
-----------------------------------------------
Bela scanned the room that served as a cafeteria and weighed her options. It hadn't taken her long to learn the rules of her new home, and not the ones Mama Moseley gave out , but the code of the block. You wanted something, anything, and it all depended on who you knew and how much money you had. As it currently stood she had neither connections or money, something she needed to change.
Her eyes zeroed in on her target. Abaddon sat perched on top of one of the long tables surrounded by the adoring faces of her little team of criminals. Her lips were curled in a satisfied smile and her hands swished through the air as if conducting the story itself. Bela idly wondered what tale she was spinning that had the other merry murderesses so enthralled.
Bela squared her shoulders and quirked her lips into a smug yet warm smile, one that oozed confidence, and made her way over to the table wiggling her way in between Anna and Naomi with no apologies. She laughed at Abaddon’s next joke, inserting herself into the conversation.
The others continued to laugh, if somewhat more strained, and shifted their eyes to look at the newcomer flicking them between her and Abaddon. The one Bela had learned was named Tamera did not seem phased at all and reached over the rest to grab something off Tammi’s tray, a transgression that would not have been tolerated by anyone else but earned Tamara little more than an annoyed glance. Bela made a mental note.
“So, fresh blood. What are you in for?” Abaddon took a drag off her cigarette and pulled in a slow breath, tendrils of smoke escaping her lips and twisting their way to freedom. Her eyes were dark, she blinked lazily and left her lids half closed as if Bela wasn't worth the effort to lift them.
Bela inhaled and mentally prepared herself to spit out the same rehearsed story she and Mr. Roman has discussed over and over again. Bela opened her mouth to speak and Abaddon’s hand rose quickly as if she knew exactly what was happening in Bela‘s head.
“No, no, no. Not that story, anything but that story,” She punctuated it with an exaggerated eye roll. “We all have that story, I mean the real reason you’re here darling. What Johnny or Jill…” Her eyes briefly flicked to Tamara them back to Bela’s face. “…broke your heart and why. No need for bullshit here.” Abaddon flicked her cigarette and carelessly sent ashes flying.
Bela suppressed the wide grin she felt tugging at her mouth. Despite her better judgment she really liked Abaddon. She should have viewed this as little more than a power play, but the redhead’s lackadaisical way of sauntering through life left her head spinning and a million questions forming and dying on her lips.
“His name was Guy, real prick too. A jazz musician with a well tuned instrument.” Daring a bold move Bela reached out and drew the cigarette out of Abaddon’s lithe finger and pulled a long drag before handing it back and blowing the smoke over her shoulder. “We met, we fucked, he lied, and I blew him away. Both literally and figuratively. Not much else to it. Same old song and dance half the ladies in here have.”
Tammi huffed and gave a small wheezing laugh. Her tone was cynical and cold. “It’s never that easy .” Her eyes remained glued to the table the entire time she spoke.
Bela leaned forward and rested her chin in her hands and gave Tammi the ‘sweet eyes’ that usually left the men crumbling to their knees and asked, “So what about you then, what’s your story?”
Tammi finally looked up, a flash of some raw unnamed emotion flicked in her eyes before being replaced with her usual tough as a coffin nail mask she wore at all times. She splayed her fingers and held out her hands in a grand gesture and her face lit up as she eased into the role of story teller, “Enter in our male lead. Strong, lean, well off, well paid, and oh so generous.” She pulled one leg up underneath her and wiggled into a more comfortable position.
“Our leading lady cannot help but be drawn in - but the illusion of attraction only holds up for so long. Soon she tires of her he-man and craves something softer.” Tammi’s voice trailed off and she seemed to reconsider her story for a moment before continuing in a new direction. “That’s when I met her. Stunning blonde hair, fair skin - which I won’t lie looked really good stretched out next to mine, and a fire in her belly.”
Tammi pushed her wayward bangs out of her eyes and pursed her lips. “I should have never gotten involved with one of my students,” She shrugged and rolled her shoulders into the motion releasing tension, “but there was no way I was passing up on Ruby.”
Bela quirked up an eyebrow and silently urged Tammi on. Abaddon’s hand came into view as she held out an open pack of cigarettes to Tammi who took two. She stuck one behind her ear, “Oh but that wasn't the problem see,” she pulled out an old worn lighter and flicked it into life igniting the second cigarette. She pulled in a puff and exhaled before finishing. “See the problem wasn't Ruby. It was good old Ali. Not even sure if that was his real name or not.”
She laughed and flicked ashes into the cafeteria floor. “Fucking Ali and his stupid fucking controlling ways. He found out about Ruby, told me no one else could have me if he couldn't, what a cock” She shook her head, “Please. Could you get anymore cliché?”
The rest of the group murmured in agreement and nodded like a single entity. “I don’t think he could have hurt her if he had tried, but always better safe than sorry.” She pulled in another lungful of smoke. It was as natural as drawing in a breath of fresh air and Bela’s mind wondered how long the dark haired vixen had been indulging this little form of suicide.
“He comes home, I make him a drink - Earl Grey and whiskey - and I add a dash of my own secret ingredient.” Her face lit up with pride, “Little something I call ’holy water’. It’s a combination of Strychnine and a Hemlock tincture.” She let out a genuine laugh, the one you would let out on a carnival ride. “Took the bastard hours to die.” Tammi grabbed Tamara’s cup, a snub Bela assumed for her earlier theft, and downed the rest of it. “He had it coming.”
Abaddon reached out and ruffled Tammi’s hair in a strangely affectionate gesture. “Damn right he did.”