Pro Bono
Written as a fan contribution for Spirits of Raleigh by ParanoidFighter
Vincent — or, more accurately, Nocte — sat in silence as he listened to the potential client telling their story to the Barkeep. It was a brutal one, no denying that, but no matter how much they — and others — had suffered at the hands of one man, that very same man had been rich enough to afford the smooth-talking lawyers that got him cleared of all charges. Hidden behind his impassive mask, his frown deepened when their story came to an end and John cleared his throat before stating the price for this particular request.
"I... I can't afford that," their face fell, eyes filling with tears. "The lawyers cost everything I had." They scrubbed at their cheeks. "P-please, I need—I can't, I mean, I..." Their pleading voice faded into a silence that said more than words.
Vincent knew that silence. And he hated that he did.
"Barkeep," Nocte's hollow voice was scarcely warmer than the devastation that hung heavy in the air, "would it be too much of an imposition if you were to fetch a drink for our guest?" His white mask nodded slightly toward the now-sobbing ork that had buried their face into their hands.
John, his face an emotionless mask all its own, gave Nocte a long, calculating stare before he silently stood up and walked away. The door closed with a sharp snap. Nocte waited until he could no longer hear John's breath before he turned to face the ork who couldn't have been older than eighteen. "Tell me what you need."
"W-what?" They hiccuped, scarcely believing their ears.
"Tell me what you need," the grave-cold voice repeated as gently as possible, "and then tell me what you want."
* * * "Don't wait up for me tonight," Vincent laced his boots with one hand before tucking in the laces, "I have something I need to take care of."
"Work or pleasure?" Geoff asked, seated on a nearby couch, as he pulled off the goggles connected to the AR gloves he wore.
"You didn't have to pause your game," he looked over at Geoff and hid his smile at the bright red indented ring around Geoff's eyes. "But it's work."
"You need me around for this one?"
Vincent stood up and adjusted the holster under his arm. "Not at all. The less known about this one, the better. Even moreso than usual, that is." That had Geoff's brow furrowing. "This doesn't sound like a Cabinet job."
"It's not."
"Pro bono?"
Vincent's partially paralyzed face slowly broke into a begrudging grin. "How could you tell?"
"You've loaded up with a different kit this time," He gestured to the specially-made holster Vincent was now hiding under a jacket. "How bad we talking?"
"Bad."
Geoff's frown matched his furrowed brows. "You're being extremely cagey on this one."
"It wasn't the worst I've heard," Vincent carefully admitted, "but I heard enough to know that something needed to be done."
"This something Lone Star can handle?"
Vincent shook his head. "Not to the level it needs to be." The two stared at the other, their eyes saying the words they didn't need to vocalize, until Geoff looked away with a quiet sigh. "I won't push further. I want to know, but I really don't."
"You don't," Vincent agreed, almost sadly, "but you'll find out soon enough, unfortunately. This particular person won't be going away entirely."
"I don't like how that sounds."
The elf said nothing as he picked up his mask and slipped it into a pocket inside his jacket, along with a balaclava to hide the rest of his head and neck.
"Vince?"
Vincent looked back to his boyfriend, still silent.
"Just come back safe, okay?"
"Of course. I'll bring doughnuts; I know you'll still be up, so we can have breakfast in bed." He walked over to the couch and leaned over it, smiling down at Geoff's own smiling face. "And I'll make sure to grab a maple bar for you, too."
"Awesome." He reached up and put his hands on either side of Vincent's head and pulled him down for a kiss. "Stay safe and come home soon."
"I will." Vincent gave him another gentle kiss. "I love you."
"I love you too," Geoff let his arms drop to his sides as Vincent turned and walked away... Geoff did not return to his game after the door closed. Instead, he turned his goggles over and over in his hands, wrestling with his own conscience. He knew that someone was going to die tonight. And it wasn't going to be because of a bullet. It wouldn't even be because of six. No, Geoff took his gloves off before running his hands down his face, someone was going to die in a way that would make a gunshot wound be a fucking mercy... * * * Ragged breath was drawn through even more ragged lips as he stumbled his way through the Concrete Forest, fingers clawing at the crumbling facades as he pulled himself ever onward. Ever away from the... the... Glass crunched under a foot that wasn't his. His head whipped around, searching through blackened eyes for the possible source. Was that— Another step. Another crunch. A beggar stepped out from around the corner and fixed him with a knowing stare. "Say your prayers," their drawl sounded almost sinister, "and watch your step." They shuffled away, cackling to themselves about broken glass. Slumping against the burnt concrete, Rob looked around as he tried to gather his bearings. He didn't know how he ended up here, but he knew it wasn't an accident. Just like it wasn't an accident that his car's brakes failed. Just like it wasn't an accident his airbags failed to deploy and sent him through the wind shield. Even if he wasn't sure how he had been followed here, he knew he had been. Swearing under his breath, he resumed padding along in the direction he hoped would take him to the bolthole that he had been assured would keep him safe until his new identity could be spun up. It cost him a pretty penny, too, and for what? That... thing... had still found him. And his car. And possibly even his safehouse. Clutching his concussed head, he took a staggering step forward again, knowing that every second he stayed still was one second of lost lead t— Something crumbled beside him, falling to the ground in a cloud of dust that wasn't just dust. Jumping away, Rob stared down at what remained of someone caught in the blast that had turned the whole area into a sculpture garden. "Shit," he hissed and staggered onward, unsure but very sure that the body crumbling wasn't just an accident, either. No, his heart ran cold as he heard the sound of distant laughter, none of this was an accident. Fumbling under his shirt for his panic button to alert a security detail to his location, he pressed the button hard enough to warp the plastic container, all while scanning the shadows for any sign of that... He pressed the button again, for the fifth time, and looked around again. No one had shown up yet, no one except for— "Your security team is on its way," said a flat, cold voice from the shadows, "they had a slight delay; however, they should be here within fifteen minutes." Nocte stepped out from a side alley. "Unfortunately, they will be arriving too late to be of use to you." Rob scrambled backwards, his heart in his throat. "w-What do you want from me? I'll pay you. Anything! Anything you want. Just don't hurt me!"
The masked man stepped closer, effectively pinning the other man to the wall with his prescence alone. "How much?"
"Two hundred thousand NuYen."
Rob watched his reflection in the mask as the man shook his head, tutting quietly as he did so. "I do not get out of bed for less than five hundred thousand. You have insulted me, but no matter." He glanced down at his watch and then back to Rob. "The time for negotiation is over."
"No!" Rob all but fell to his knees as he stared up into his own reflection. "Mercy!"
"I will show you all the mercy you have shown." Nocte said quietly as his hand shot forward and wrapped itself around the man's throat. His fingers tightened their grip as he raised his arm and pulled Rob back to his feet, then into the air. With flailing legs, Rob clawed at the arm holding his throat, gasping for breath that wouldn't come, as the fingers tightened... Then he saw the knife. * * * The bell chimed as the door swung inward. Sasha, stifling a yawn, raised his head from behind the register of the Sweet Spot and frowned as he stared at Vincent. "It's early. And where's the other one?"
"At home, waiting for some doughnuts." Vincent strode up to the display case and looked it over, smiling as he saw the freshly-iced maple bars. "Oh, good, you have some; I told Geoff I'd bring him one." Vincent then glanced over to Sasha and frowned. "Are you alright? You're looking perplexed about something."
"That's because I am. And because I don't understand why you and Ezra both insist on being up before the sun's up. This isn't normal."
"Quit bitching," came Ezra's voice from the bakery's kitchen, "yeast dough needs time to proof."
"What's on your mind?" Vincent ignored the baker's interjection. Sasha glanced around, his cybernetic eyes glazing over as he checked the cameras around the building, and then pressed a button under the register to lock the front door. "Y'know that movie star, the one who just got acquitted for all those molestation charges?"
Vincent shook his head. "Only vaguely. What's going on?"
"He was found dead this morning and, uh, well," Sasha grimaced, "I tuned into one of the reports on it and all that I saw was people puking and heaving as they tried to talk about the crime."
"Any details?"
Sasha shook his head as Ezra stepped out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, and closed the door behind him. "The only thing we've heard is that whoever killed him must've had something against him," Ezra's voice was quiet, not wanting to draw Zekie's attention. "The only thing the medical reports said was that there were body parts in places they shouldn't have been." Ezra himself seemed a little uneasy as he said it, but Sasha was more curious than unnerved.
"You happen to hear anything?" Sasha asked Vincent as he handed the elf a box and a pair of tongs for the doughnuts. Lifting the front of the display case, Vincent set about gathering his normal order — three apple fritters, two maple bars, three glazed dougnuts, and four vanilla cream-filled dougnuts. "I know a little, yes," he said in a disinterested voice.
"And?" Sasha pressed.
The non-paralyzed half of Vincent's face quirked into a lopsided grin. He simply closed the display case, then the box, before returning the tongs to Sasha. A chill ran through the bakery as Sasha and Ezra stared at the elf who was now holding out some paper bills to pay for his doughnuts.
"Vincent...?" Sasha's brow furrowed. "What did..."
"A double orochiectomy and enucleation; testing to see if a field transplant would work." He said calmly, still holding out the money. "It did not."
Ezra's face grew fixed, then green, before he fled back into the kitchen. The sound of his wretching filled the bakery as Sasha stared in horror at Vincent.
"That was you...?"
"I was merely a messenger," Vincent said calmly. "May I pay for my doughnuts now? I'm rather tired and I'm sure Geoff would appreciate me returning home soon. I know I would, too, before the streets grow more crowded." Sasha took the money with a trembling hand as he, too, fought to control his stomach. "I saw some photos," he said quietly, so Ezra wouldn't hear him, "and I saw what happened. You... you really did that?"
"I was rushed," Vincent picked up the box of doughnuts. "I only had five minutes to act and vacate the area without leaving a trace before his security detail showed up."
Sasha felt his stomach roiling, "You also wrote a message in his own blood, at his feet: For the children. What was that about?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." Vincent's face returned to its normal, impassive expression. "I wanted to hang him by his own vasculature, but there wasn't a suitable spot or time." He shrugged his shoulders. "Mind unlocking the door? I'd like to go home and take a shower." The door unlocked as Sasha simply stared at the elf. "How much did someone pay you for this?"
"Not a thing," Vincent said as he strode away, head held high, humming flamenco as he went. Once the elf was out of sight, Sasha sank down onto his heels behind the counter and tried to settle his stomach, fighting back the urge to vomit from the memory of the crime scene photos — photos he refused to tell Ezra he saw... * * * Geoff raised his head as he heard the apartment door opening. He placed his coffee down on the table and stood up, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room, his attention on the door. When it opened and showed Vincent holding a box from the Sweet Spot, a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, but his normally bright eyes were clouded.
"Welcome home," he said, walking up and taking the box from Vincent as they shared a kiss, "glad you're back now." He closed and locked the door as Vincent worked on removing his boots. "Work phone's been blowing up with chatter."
"Glad to be home," Vincent looked up to him, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "I can tell you want to talk, but I need a shower. Desperately." He shed his jacket and draped it over his arm, already knowing he'd have to send it to Jean-Claude for cleaning. "I've already got a towel and your favorite soaps laid out," Geoff opened the box and took out a maple bar. "Oh, it's still a little warm. Nice."
"The bakery had only just opened," Vincent walked to the bathroom, Geoff following behind him, "Sasha asked about you."
"He did?"
"Well, he asked where the other one was." He admitted.
Geoff chuckled, nodding. "That sounds more like him." He took a bite from the maple bar, leaning against the bathroom wall, as Vincent stripped down and turned on the shower. "You okay to talk about it? I've got some questions." The elf glanced over his shoulder, holding one hand under the water as he waited for it to warm. "Sure, but let me have a bite of that maple bar; the smell was teasing me the entire way here."
Geoff chuckled and held out the doughnut he himself was eating. "Sure." He smiled as Vincent leaned over and took a bite. "Think Zekie made this batch?"
"Hard to tell, but he definitely made the vanilla cream ones; did you see how plump those are?"
"Over-filled; just the way I like it." Geoff grinned as Vincent rolled his eyes.
The elf stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed as Geoff leaned against the wall, munching on the doughnut as he watched his boyfriend through the semi-opaque curtain.
"John and I met with a young ork earlier in the week. One of the victims who took him to court." Vincent leaned his head around the curtain and took another bite from the maple bar that Geoff held out to him. "John wanted to charge them through the nose for just a basic hit. It didn't sit right with me."
"Understandable," Geoff nodded, "but that was more flashy than your normal work. It nettled you," it was a half question.
"It did," Vincent began scrubbing his hair, quietly and desperately trying to wash away the memories — and detritis — from CR-617, "and before you ask, the reason's a picture hanging on our fridge."
Geoff stopped chewing, exhaling slowly through his nose as he thought of his toddler nephew. "I understand," he said quietly, "all of it."
"I'm going to be heading out again soon, once the dust has settled a bit," he stuck his head around the curtain, hair full of suds, and let Geoff put the rest of the maple bar in his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and then vanished behind the curtain again. "But this time, it's just to hand over something to the ork. They said the lawyer they hired cost everything they had..." A sigh. "It's not fair. And, for once, I'm in a position to help tip the scales."
"Anything in mind?"
"Money, mainly; unmarked bills and enough of them to get them to a better place." Geoff took another doughnut out of the box — a vanilla cream — and tried to ignore how his entire mouth was suddenly ringed in frosting after a single bite. "Gonna help them skip town?"
"That's up to them. I'm just going to hand over an envelope and walk away. What they do with their life is up to them; I just helped them close this chapter." Vincent stuck his head around the curtain again. "That's a good look for you, you know."
"Yeah, yeah," Geoff pretended to be offended as he leaned in, letting Vincent kiss the frosting away, before giving a fond smile to the elf. "You never fail to amaze me, Vince; shoved a guilty bastard's balls in his eyesockets in Valkyrja's jurisdiction and then brought me fresh doughnuts. It's like Christmas came early. They're gonna be tracking down dead end leads for months because of you. That feels good."
"Technically he was innocent," Vincent all but spat the words, "I'm just pissed I didn't have more time with him."
"I think you had plenty," another bite of the doughnut, but with less mess this time.
He made a soft noise of agreement as he resumed scrubbing at his hair. "It got the point across, at least. Still, though," he sighed, "I think I'm losing my touch."
"If you're losing your touch, then I'm going grey."
Vincent barked a laugh.
"Seriously, though, Valkyrja's nothing to fuck with. If you were still in the area when they got there, it'd be difficult for you to get out without notice. They're so loaded up with surveillance I'm surprised Sasha's not jacking off to their specs. Lone Star won't fuck with a case if there's even the rumor they'd be involved..." He popped the last few bites of the doughnut into his mouth and licked his fingers clean. "I'm glad you got out when you did and even more glad you're back home. It was a long night and I'm tired; want me to put the doughnuts away?"
"Yeah. It's time for bed. I'm exhausted. And I hurt," Vincent yawned. "Do you know how hard it is to keep holding onto the moving undercarriage of a car whose brake lines you just slashed?"
Geoff could only shake his head as he walked away...
John, his face an emotionless mask all its own, gave Nocte a long, calculating stare before he silently stood up and walked away. The door closed with a sharp snap. Nocte waited until he could no longer hear John's breath before he turned to face the ork who couldn't have been older than eighteen. "Tell me what you need."
"W-what?" They hiccuped, scarcely believing their ears.
"Tell me what you need," the grave-cold voice repeated as gently as possible, "and then tell me what you want."
* * * "Don't wait up for me tonight," Vincent laced his boots with one hand before tucking in the laces, "I have something I need to take care of."
"Work or pleasure?" Geoff asked, seated on a nearby couch, as he pulled off the goggles connected to the AR gloves he wore.
"You didn't have to pause your game," he looked over at Geoff and hid his smile at the bright red indented ring around Geoff's eyes. "But it's work."
"You need me around for this one?"
Vincent stood up and adjusted the holster under his arm. "Not at all. The less known about this one, the better. Even moreso than usual, that is." That had Geoff's brow furrowing. "This doesn't sound like a Cabinet job."
"It's not."
"Pro bono?"
Vincent's partially paralyzed face slowly broke into a begrudging grin. "How could you tell?"
"You've loaded up with a different kit this time," He gestured to the specially-made holster Vincent was now hiding under a jacket. "How bad we talking?"
"Bad."
Geoff's frown matched his furrowed brows. "You're being extremely cagey on this one."
"It wasn't the worst I've heard," Vincent carefully admitted, "but I heard enough to know that something needed to be done."
"This something Lone Star can handle?"
Vincent shook his head. "Not to the level it needs to be." The two stared at the other, their eyes saying the words they didn't need to vocalize, until Geoff looked away with a quiet sigh. "I won't push further. I want to know, but I really don't."
"You don't," Vincent agreed, almost sadly, "but you'll find out soon enough, unfortunately. This particular person won't be going away entirely."
"I don't like how that sounds."
The elf said nothing as he picked up his mask and slipped it into a pocket inside his jacket, along with a balaclava to hide the rest of his head and neck.
"Vince?"
Vincent looked back to his boyfriend, still silent.
"Just come back safe, okay?"
"Of course. I'll bring doughnuts; I know you'll still be up, so we can have breakfast in bed." He walked over to the couch and leaned over it, smiling down at Geoff's own smiling face. "And I'll make sure to grab a maple bar for you, too."
"Awesome." He reached up and put his hands on either side of Vincent's head and pulled him down for a kiss. "Stay safe and come home soon."
"I will." Vincent gave him another gentle kiss. "I love you."
"I love you too," Geoff let his arms drop to his sides as Vincent turned and walked away... Geoff did not return to his game after the door closed. Instead, he turned his goggles over and over in his hands, wrestling with his own conscience. He knew that someone was going to die tonight. And it wasn't going to be because of a bullet. It wouldn't even be because of six. No, Geoff took his gloves off before running his hands down his face, someone was going to die in a way that would make a gunshot wound be a fucking mercy... * * * Ragged breath was drawn through even more ragged lips as he stumbled his way through the Concrete Forest, fingers clawing at the crumbling facades as he pulled himself ever onward. Ever away from the... the... Glass crunched under a foot that wasn't his. His head whipped around, searching through blackened eyes for the possible source. Was that— Another step. Another crunch. A beggar stepped out from around the corner and fixed him with a knowing stare. "Say your prayers," their drawl sounded almost sinister, "and watch your step." They shuffled away, cackling to themselves about broken glass. Slumping against the burnt concrete, Rob looked around as he tried to gather his bearings. He didn't know how he ended up here, but he knew it wasn't an accident. Just like it wasn't an accident that his car's brakes failed. Just like it wasn't an accident his airbags failed to deploy and sent him through the wind shield. Even if he wasn't sure how he had been followed here, he knew he had been. Swearing under his breath, he resumed padding along in the direction he hoped would take him to the bolthole that he had been assured would keep him safe until his new identity could be spun up. It cost him a pretty penny, too, and for what? That... thing... had still found him. And his car. And possibly even his safehouse. Clutching his concussed head, he took a staggering step forward again, knowing that every second he stayed still was one second of lost lead t— Something crumbled beside him, falling to the ground in a cloud of dust that wasn't just dust. Jumping away, Rob stared down at what remained of someone caught in the blast that had turned the whole area into a sculpture garden. "Shit," he hissed and staggered onward, unsure but very sure that the body crumbling wasn't just an accident, either. No, his heart ran cold as he heard the sound of distant laughter, none of this was an accident. Fumbling under his shirt for his panic button to alert a security detail to his location, he pressed the button hard enough to warp the plastic container, all while scanning the shadows for any sign of that... He pressed the button again, for the fifth time, and looked around again. No one had shown up yet, no one except for— "Your security team is on its way," said a flat, cold voice from the shadows, "they had a slight delay; however, they should be here within fifteen minutes." Nocte stepped out from a side alley. "Unfortunately, they will be arriving too late to be of use to you." Rob scrambled backwards, his heart in his throat. "w-What do you want from me? I'll pay you. Anything! Anything you want. Just don't hurt me!"
The masked man stepped closer, effectively pinning the other man to the wall with his prescence alone. "How much?"
"Two hundred thousand NuYen."
Rob watched his reflection in the mask as the man shook his head, tutting quietly as he did so. "I do not get out of bed for less than five hundred thousand. You have insulted me, but no matter." He glanced down at his watch and then back to Rob. "The time for negotiation is over."
"No!" Rob all but fell to his knees as he stared up into his own reflection. "Mercy!"
"I will show you all the mercy you have shown." Nocte said quietly as his hand shot forward and wrapped itself around the man's throat. His fingers tightened their grip as he raised his arm and pulled Rob back to his feet, then into the air. With flailing legs, Rob clawed at the arm holding his throat, gasping for breath that wouldn't come, as the fingers tightened... Then he saw the knife. * * * The bell chimed as the door swung inward. Sasha, stifling a yawn, raised his head from behind the register of the Sweet Spot and frowned as he stared at Vincent. "It's early. And where's the other one?"
"At home, waiting for some doughnuts." Vincent strode up to the display case and looked it over, smiling as he saw the freshly-iced maple bars. "Oh, good, you have some; I told Geoff I'd bring him one." Vincent then glanced over to Sasha and frowned. "Are you alright? You're looking perplexed about something."
"That's because I am. And because I don't understand why you and Ezra both insist on being up before the sun's up. This isn't normal."
"Quit bitching," came Ezra's voice from the bakery's kitchen, "yeast dough needs time to proof."
"What's on your mind?" Vincent ignored the baker's interjection. Sasha glanced around, his cybernetic eyes glazing over as he checked the cameras around the building, and then pressed a button under the register to lock the front door. "Y'know that movie star, the one who just got acquitted for all those molestation charges?"
Vincent shook his head. "Only vaguely. What's going on?"
"He was found dead this morning and, uh, well," Sasha grimaced, "I tuned into one of the reports on it and all that I saw was people puking and heaving as they tried to talk about the crime."
"Any details?"
Sasha shook his head as Ezra stepped out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, and closed the door behind him. "The only thing we've heard is that whoever killed him must've had something against him," Ezra's voice was quiet, not wanting to draw Zekie's attention. "The only thing the medical reports said was that there were body parts in places they shouldn't have been." Ezra himself seemed a little uneasy as he said it, but Sasha was more curious than unnerved.
"You happen to hear anything?" Sasha asked Vincent as he handed the elf a box and a pair of tongs for the doughnuts. Lifting the front of the display case, Vincent set about gathering his normal order — three apple fritters, two maple bars, three glazed dougnuts, and four vanilla cream-filled dougnuts. "I know a little, yes," he said in a disinterested voice.
"And?" Sasha pressed.
The non-paralyzed half of Vincent's face quirked into a lopsided grin. He simply closed the display case, then the box, before returning the tongs to Sasha. A chill ran through the bakery as Sasha and Ezra stared at the elf who was now holding out some paper bills to pay for his doughnuts.
"Vincent...?" Sasha's brow furrowed. "What did..."
"A double orochiectomy and enucleation; testing to see if a field transplant would work." He said calmly, still holding out the money. "It did not."
Ezra's face grew fixed, then green, before he fled back into the kitchen. The sound of his wretching filled the bakery as Sasha stared in horror at Vincent.
"That was you...?"
"I was merely a messenger," Vincent said calmly. "May I pay for my doughnuts now? I'm rather tired and I'm sure Geoff would appreciate me returning home soon. I know I would, too, before the streets grow more crowded." Sasha took the money with a trembling hand as he, too, fought to control his stomach. "I saw some photos," he said quietly, so Ezra wouldn't hear him, "and I saw what happened. You... you really did that?"
"I was rushed," Vincent picked up the box of doughnuts. "I only had five minutes to act and vacate the area without leaving a trace before his security detail showed up."
Sasha felt his stomach roiling, "You also wrote a message in his own blood, at his feet: For the children. What was that about?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." Vincent's face returned to its normal, impassive expression. "I wanted to hang him by his own vasculature, but there wasn't a suitable spot or time." He shrugged his shoulders. "Mind unlocking the door? I'd like to go home and take a shower." The door unlocked as Sasha simply stared at the elf. "How much did someone pay you for this?"
"Not a thing," Vincent said as he strode away, head held high, humming flamenco as he went. Once the elf was out of sight, Sasha sank down onto his heels behind the counter and tried to settle his stomach, fighting back the urge to vomit from the memory of the crime scene photos — photos he refused to tell Ezra he saw... * * * Geoff raised his head as he heard the apartment door opening. He placed his coffee down on the table and stood up, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room, his attention on the door. When it opened and showed Vincent holding a box from the Sweet Spot, a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, but his normally bright eyes were clouded.
"Welcome home," he said, walking up and taking the box from Vincent as they shared a kiss, "glad you're back now." He closed and locked the door as Vincent worked on removing his boots. "Work phone's been blowing up with chatter."
"Glad to be home," Vincent looked up to him, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "I can tell you want to talk, but I need a shower. Desperately." He shed his jacket and draped it over his arm, already knowing he'd have to send it to Jean-Claude for cleaning. "I've already got a towel and your favorite soaps laid out," Geoff opened the box and took out a maple bar. "Oh, it's still a little warm. Nice."
"The bakery had only just opened," Vincent walked to the bathroom, Geoff following behind him, "Sasha asked about you."
"He did?"
"Well, he asked where the other one was." He admitted.
Geoff chuckled, nodding. "That sounds more like him." He took a bite from the maple bar, leaning against the bathroom wall, as Vincent stripped down and turned on the shower. "You okay to talk about it? I've got some questions." The elf glanced over his shoulder, holding one hand under the water as he waited for it to warm. "Sure, but let me have a bite of that maple bar; the smell was teasing me the entire way here."
Geoff chuckled and held out the doughnut he himself was eating. "Sure." He smiled as Vincent leaned over and took a bite. "Think Zekie made this batch?"
"Hard to tell, but he definitely made the vanilla cream ones; did you see how plump those are?"
"Over-filled; just the way I like it." Geoff grinned as Vincent rolled his eyes.
The elf stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed as Geoff leaned against the wall, munching on the doughnut as he watched his boyfriend through the semi-opaque curtain.
"John and I met with a young ork earlier in the week. One of the victims who took him to court." Vincent leaned his head around the curtain and took another bite from the maple bar that Geoff held out to him. "John wanted to charge them through the nose for just a basic hit. It didn't sit right with me."
"Understandable," Geoff nodded, "but that was more flashy than your normal work. It nettled you," it was a half question.
"It did," Vincent began scrubbing his hair, quietly and desperately trying to wash away the memories — and detritis — from CR-617, "and before you ask, the reason's a picture hanging on our fridge."
Geoff stopped chewing, exhaling slowly through his nose as he thought of his toddler nephew. "I understand," he said quietly, "all of it."
"I'm going to be heading out again soon, once the dust has settled a bit," he stuck his head around the curtain, hair full of suds, and let Geoff put the rest of the maple bar in his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and then vanished behind the curtain again. "But this time, it's just to hand over something to the ork. They said the lawyer they hired cost everything they had..." A sigh. "It's not fair. And, for once, I'm in a position to help tip the scales."
"Anything in mind?"
"Money, mainly; unmarked bills and enough of them to get them to a better place." Geoff took another doughnut out of the box — a vanilla cream — and tried to ignore how his entire mouth was suddenly ringed in frosting after a single bite. "Gonna help them skip town?"
"That's up to them. I'm just going to hand over an envelope and walk away. What they do with their life is up to them; I just helped them close this chapter." Vincent stuck his head around the curtain again. "That's a good look for you, you know."
"Yeah, yeah," Geoff pretended to be offended as he leaned in, letting Vincent kiss the frosting away, before giving a fond smile to the elf. "You never fail to amaze me, Vince; shoved a guilty bastard's balls in his eyesockets in Valkyrja's jurisdiction and then brought me fresh doughnuts. It's like Christmas came early. They're gonna be tracking down dead end leads for months because of you. That feels good."
"Technically he was innocent," Vincent all but spat the words, "I'm just pissed I didn't have more time with him."
"I think you had plenty," another bite of the doughnut, but with less mess this time.
He made a soft noise of agreement as he resumed scrubbing at his hair. "It got the point across, at least. Still, though," he sighed, "I think I'm losing my touch."
"If you're losing your touch, then I'm going grey."
Vincent barked a laugh.
"Seriously, though, Valkyrja's nothing to fuck with. If you were still in the area when they got there, it'd be difficult for you to get out without notice. They're so loaded up with surveillance I'm surprised Sasha's not jacking off to their specs. Lone Star won't fuck with a case if there's even the rumor they'd be involved..." He popped the last few bites of the doughnut into his mouth and licked his fingers clean. "I'm glad you got out when you did and even more glad you're back home. It was a long night and I'm tired; want me to put the doughnuts away?"
"Yeah. It's time for bed. I'm exhausted. And I hurt," Vincent yawned. "Do you know how hard it is to keep holding onto the moving undercarriage of a car whose brake lines you just slashed?"
Geoff could only shake his head as he walked away...
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