Round Robin 9/16
Sep. 28th, 2011 02:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
whedonistFandom: Nikki & Nora
Pairing: Nikki/Nora
Story: Round Robin
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
1shinyboat, nemodoryismyido and Pprbckwrtr
Rating: PG-13 to R – there’s some language
Disclaimer: Not ours. These characters mainly belong to Nancylee Myatt and others. For the most part this is unbeta'd...epp! All missing words and misspellings...are my dog's fault. =0)
A/N: Hi All! You’re getting this a bit early this week. I’ll be oiut of town starting tomorrow morning and well, I’ll get sometime next week. Until then, read and enjoy!!!
Ch. 9 – DocWho2100
Ricci pulled his arm back, delivering another vicious blow, sending the second man to his knees, the fallen man’s partner already on the floor nursing a bruised jaw. “You couldn’t find them?” he bellowed as he stepped forward, kicking the man he had just backhanded, square in the stomach.
“No Mr. Ricci, we, we didn’t,” the first man answered, his gaze on the man Ricci had just kicked. He swallowed as he noticed a bit of blood trickling from his partner’s lip.
“What the fuck, Mitchell, have you been doing for the last 12 hours? Playing tea party with them?”
Mitchell shook his head no, flinching as Mr. Ricci stepped closer. “Me and Sean went door to door. They were pretty bad off. I don’t see how they coulda gotten out,” he winced as the crime boss stepped on Sean’s fingers, the man crying out in pain as Ricci ground his foot into the floor as if putting out a cigarette.
“I have a bunch of sissy morons working for me,” he turned, but not before kicking out, catching Mitchell in the jaw, the man slumping backwards.
“You get what you pay for darling,” a smoky voice purred from the doorway.
Ricci stopped in front of the tall blonde leaning against the doorframe, huffing as he refused to answer his wife.
She brushed into the room past him, a red manicured nail scratching across his face, digging in at the end of the journey, causing him to grunt and flinch away. “Damn it Caroline.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic Cookie baby; I know how much you like it. You have scars from me all over,” her eyes raked over his body as she recounted many of the encounters that had led to the creation of those scars. She moved over to the two men who were still on their knees, huddled over, partially in pain and partially in fear. The fear not caused by Mr. Ricci, but by the true head of the Family, Mrs. Ricci.
“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Mr. Ricci demanded, watching his predatory wife.
Caroline sighed as she circled the two men, her steps precise, delicate, and deliberate. The men watched as she made two rounds, drawing ever nearer to them.
“This is why I abhor letting men complicate matters,” Caroline said, more to herself than to anyone else in the room. “My grandfather and grandmother built this empire, and you and the others have been razing it to the ground.”
“The world is changing; we’ve only been trying to…”
Caroline whipped around, her manner changing immediately, energy sizzling through her, the change so dramatic; Sean and Mitchell scooted across the floor away from the woman. “Greedy, stupid and blind,” she snapped. “Nothing you can say will counter and you know that. Your father had already corrupted his business and family and somehow convinced my father that joining the two together would make both strong. Hence our little arrangement,” she flicked her ring finger, the ring catching the light in the room, the sparkle flashing like a knowing wink, or as Caroline always considered, a mocking reminder of her binds. Binds that maybe she could finally sever. Others had seen the Jensen fiasco as the final nail in the Ricci Family coffin, the vultures circling, ready to divide up the bloated carcass and business once the family was removed. She saw it as a chance to be reborn, much like the phoenix.
Even this latest failed attempt could be used. One just had to know how to work the system, how to work a person, how to make a person see your way was the right way.
She pulled her phone from the pocket of her Armani suit, calling over her shoulder, “Dougie, please come in.”
All eyes focused on the door as the muscleman came in, looking apprehensive. Caroline smiled at him, a genuine smile as she always did favor the man. Light in the loafers her mother had said, but she had always fed and taken care of the man; the man had saved her mother’s life twice. She wished there were more men like Dougie LeBou, things might run more smoothly if they followed and did not question; knew their function, place and strengths as well as weaknesses. She’d admired his honest assessment of the situation; her husband and the other capos laughing and brushing off his assessment of the detectives.
She had not laughed; she had already begun to think of a way to use the precious information the little discussion period with the two detectives had given her.
“Caroline, if we do not hit Jensen within 36 hours, every other crime family will swoop in and take us out,” her husband’s whine brought her back from her plans.
“You are the one who made the agreements that lead us into this. You and yours are the one that promised a delivery that no one could possibly make. You walked right into their trap. And if it were just you and yours, I’d send roses to the other family heads thanking them for cleaning my house. But you placed the entire house into the pot.” Caroline stalked toward her husband as she spoke, the phone at her side, forgotten as her temper began to rise. “Your nephew was the one that killed the soldati from the other family, allowed the information to be delivered thus jeopardizing multiple operations.”
“He had no way of knowing…”
“I have a copy of the letter Cookie.”
Silence filled the room.
“Letter?” Ricci coughed, his voice squeaky.
“I also have a tape of the session I spent with your nephew the night he died.”
Ricci gasped, “He, he was with you when…”
“I always take care of the trash darling. Don’t you know that is what my grandfather first taught me? I was the top soldati for many, many years. A girl should always learn a profession and be able to support herself,” she laughed then, so light and carefree that no one would have thought the woman who had made that sound capable of her next action.
Still laughing, she spun, three quick steps, her free hand diving into her other jacket pocket, a small gun pulled out, raised and fired twice before she had stopped walking. She pivoted around, the two bodies thumping to the floor as both Serge and Mitchell sported bullet holes in their foreheads.
“Now then, Dougie was telling me how those two ladies stood up for each other, much more so than normal partners, which means normal tricks do not work. They are still the closest link we have and considering we have 36 hours until our death sentence begins, they are all we have. Desperate times call for desperate measures dear.”
She smirked as she saw the look of horror on her husband’s face as he stared at his two dead henchmen.
“Dougie gave me an idea. Talking may be the avenue to take. You see, my sons and daughters are about to become targets in a very deadly war; and most mothers value their family’s life and safety over their own,” she lifted the phone, dialing a number.
“Ah, Honscomb, how are you today? Yes, I did see your sister today. Yes, I did make sure the doctor came. She is feeling much better. Now then, for the next dosage and doctor visit I need a name and address. Yes, that’s all. I know the information is there in the police records, y’all have to fill out certain paperwork when you apply for a job,” she chuckled and nodded, making a sympathetic clucking sound. “Well, you do want your sister to continue to receive the treatments, don’t you?”
Her smile darkened into a malicious grin. “I need the name of Nora Delaney’s mother and where she lives,” she snapped her fingers, Dougie bringing over a pen and pad.
She nodded and began writing, “Thank you Honscomb. I’ll have the treatments continue. Have a good day.”
She hung up, looking at the pad. “I believe a good mother to mother talk is in order.”
Next>>>
Pairing: Nikki/Nora
Story: Round Robin
Authors:
1shinyboat, nemodoryismyido and PprbckwrtrRating: PG-13 to R – there’s some language
Disclaimer: Not ours. These characters mainly belong to Nancylee Myatt and others. For the most part this is unbeta'd...epp! All missing words and misspellings...are my dog's fault. =0)
A/N: Hi All! You’re getting this a bit early this week. I’ll be oiut of town starting tomorrow morning and well, I’ll get sometime next week. Until then, read and enjoy!!!
Ricci pulled his arm back, delivering another vicious blow, sending the second man to his knees, the fallen man’s partner already on the floor nursing a bruised jaw. “You couldn’t find them?” he bellowed as he stepped forward, kicking the man he had just backhanded, square in the stomach.
“No Mr. Ricci, we, we didn’t,” the first man answered, his gaze on the man Ricci had just kicked. He swallowed as he noticed a bit of blood trickling from his partner’s lip.
“What the fuck, Mitchell, have you been doing for the last 12 hours? Playing tea party with them?”
Mitchell shook his head no, flinching as Mr. Ricci stepped closer. “Me and Sean went door to door. They were pretty bad off. I don’t see how they coulda gotten out,” he winced as the crime boss stepped on Sean’s fingers, the man crying out in pain as Ricci ground his foot into the floor as if putting out a cigarette.
“I have a bunch of sissy morons working for me,” he turned, but not before kicking out, catching Mitchell in the jaw, the man slumping backwards.
“You get what you pay for darling,” a smoky voice purred from the doorway.
Ricci stopped in front of the tall blonde leaning against the doorframe, huffing as he refused to answer his wife.
She brushed into the room past him, a red manicured nail scratching across his face, digging in at the end of the journey, causing him to grunt and flinch away. “Damn it Caroline.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic Cookie baby; I know how much you like it. You have scars from me all over,” her eyes raked over his body as she recounted many of the encounters that had led to the creation of those scars. She moved over to the two men who were still on their knees, huddled over, partially in pain and partially in fear. The fear not caused by Mr. Ricci, but by the true head of the Family, Mrs. Ricci.
“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Mr. Ricci demanded, watching his predatory wife.
Caroline sighed as she circled the two men, her steps precise, delicate, and deliberate. The men watched as she made two rounds, drawing ever nearer to them.
“This is why I abhor letting men complicate matters,” Caroline said, more to herself than to anyone else in the room. “My grandfather and grandmother built this empire, and you and the others have been razing it to the ground.”
“The world is changing; we’ve only been trying to…”
Caroline whipped around, her manner changing immediately, energy sizzling through her, the change so dramatic; Sean and Mitchell scooted across the floor away from the woman. “Greedy, stupid and blind,” she snapped. “Nothing you can say will counter and you know that. Your father had already corrupted his business and family and somehow convinced my father that joining the two together would make both strong. Hence our little arrangement,” she flicked her ring finger, the ring catching the light in the room, the sparkle flashing like a knowing wink, or as Caroline always considered, a mocking reminder of her binds. Binds that maybe she could finally sever. Others had seen the Jensen fiasco as the final nail in the Ricci Family coffin, the vultures circling, ready to divide up the bloated carcass and business once the family was removed. She saw it as a chance to be reborn, much like the phoenix.
Even this latest failed attempt could be used. One just had to know how to work the system, how to work a person, how to make a person see your way was the right way.
She pulled her phone from the pocket of her Armani suit, calling over her shoulder, “Dougie, please come in.”
All eyes focused on the door as the muscleman came in, looking apprehensive. Caroline smiled at him, a genuine smile as she always did favor the man. Light in the loafers her mother had said, but she had always fed and taken care of the man; the man had saved her mother’s life twice. She wished there were more men like Dougie LeBou, things might run more smoothly if they followed and did not question; knew their function, place and strengths as well as weaknesses. She’d admired his honest assessment of the situation; her husband and the other capos laughing and brushing off his assessment of the detectives.
She had not laughed; she had already begun to think of a way to use the precious information the little discussion period with the two detectives had given her.
“Caroline, if we do not hit Jensen within 36 hours, every other crime family will swoop in and take us out,” her husband’s whine brought her back from her plans.
“You are the one who made the agreements that lead us into this. You and yours are the one that promised a delivery that no one could possibly make. You walked right into their trap. And if it were just you and yours, I’d send roses to the other family heads thanking them for cleaning my house. But you placed the entire house into the pot.” Caroline stalked toward her husband as she spoke, the phone at her side, forgotten as her temper began to rise. “Your nephew was the one that killed the soldati from the other family, allowed the information to be delivered thus jeopardizing multiple operations.”
“He had no way of knowing…”
“I have a copy of the letter Cookie.”
Silence filled the room.
“Letter?” Ricci coughed, his voice squeaky.
“I also have a tape of the session I spent with your nephew the night he died.”
Ricci gasped, “He, he was with you when…”
“I always take care of the trash darling. Don’t you know that is what my grandfather first taught me? I was the top soldati for many, many years. A girl should always learn a profession and be able to support herself,” she laughed then, so light and carefree that no one would have thought the woman who had made that sound capable of her next action.
Still laughing, she spun, three quick steps, her free hand diving into her other jacket pocket, a small gun pulled out, raised and fired twice before she had stopped walking. She pivoted around, the two bodies thumping to the floor as both Serge and Mitchell sported bullet holes in their foreheads.
“Now then, Dougie was telling me how those two ladies stood up for each other, much more so than normal partners, which means normal tricks do not work. They are still the closest link we have and considering we have 36 hours until our death sentence begins, they are all we have. Desperate times call for desperate measures dear.”
She smirked as she saw the look of horror on her husband’s face as he stared at his two dead henchmen.
“Dougie gave me an idea. Talking may be the avenue to take. You see, my sons and daughters are about to become targets in a very deadly war; and most mothers value their family’s life and safety over their own,” she lifted the phone, dialing a number.
“Ah, Honscomb, how are you today? Yes, I did see your sister today. Yes, I did make sure the doctor came. She is feeling much better. Now then, for the next dosage and doctor visit I need a name and address. Yes, that’s all. I know the information is there in the police records, y’all have to fill out certain paperwork when you apply for a job,” she chuckled and nodded, making a sympathetic clucking sound. “Well, you do want your sister to continue to receive the treatments, don’t you?”
Her smile darkened into a malicious grin. “I need the name of Nora Delaney’s mother and where she lives,” she snapped her fingers, Dougie bringing over a pen and pad.
She nodded and began writing, “Thank you Honscomb. I’ll have the treatments continue. Have a good day.”
She hung up, looking at the pad. “I believe a good mother to mother talk is in order.”
Next>>>
