Obligatory disclaimer: Dark Horse and Mr. Mignola own all, save for my own original characters.
A/N: Wrote this a million years ago, but just recently unearthed this story. I appreciate your patience, feedback and the fact that you dropped by.
The moment he walked into the bar, all eyes were on him. Their collective gaze seared his flesh, feeling like a branding iron to his skin. Conversations stopped. Heads swiveled towards the front door. Gazes trailed up and down his person in silent appraisal.
He bobbed his head at an old man sitting closest to the door, parked amongst his cronies, who had the decency to return the acknowledgement with a nod of his own before turning back towards his companions, no doubt to discuss this new stranger. With a bitter smile and a roll of his shoulders, the outsider stepped up to the bar and ordered a beer, paying for it with a ten and walking away before any change could be given.
He was here to meet his latest assignment and was able to pick her out of the bar patrons immediately – for she stuck out as prominently as he did. Her gaze was directed downwards so she was oblivious to his presence, allowing him to quietly appraise her before presenting himself.
Seated in the far corner of the bar, she was hunched over the table, her right hand quickly scrawling images into a drawing pad. Although it was almost uncomfortably warm in the bar, she wore a blue sweatshirt hoodie with the drawstring tied closely around her throat, causing the hood to gather close to the nape of her neck. Dark, wavy hair hung forward, curtaining her features, spilling onto the tabletop. An untouched cola sweated water all over the table. He wondered it the drawing pad would accidentally be used to sponge up some of the condensation.
After he maneuvered his bulk amongst the tables and bar patrons, his long duster coat managing to hug closely to his frame despite the casual way it hung open, he pulled out a chair at her table, turned it around backwards and straddled it. She didn't even look up.
"You're late. Did you get lost?"
He was a little taken aback, although he hoped he didn't show it. Instead, he set down his beer and pulled out a notepad. "Not lost. Car rental place didn't have the vehicle I requested and there was no way I was going to fit into a damn Neon. It took forever tracking down a vehicle for me to drive."
She finally looked up and her bright blue eyes locked into his golden yellow. He's even more… imposing… in person. A flicker of surprise washed over her features, but was quickly masked with a look of boredom. He knew the look was affected and that his appearance had startled her, but if she wasn't going to comment on it, neither would he. Instead, she replied, "Well, I can see how that would be a problem. But thank you for responding to my request so quickly. I must admit, I was a bit apprehensive in calling but… well… the further the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense's involvement has become, the more at ease I've felt." She hesitated, as if unsure as to how the rest of the conversation should go. "How was the drive? Were you able to get here without any difficulty? I gave directions to – I'm presuming – your… liaison at the Bureau. But, or it seems in my limited experience, something always seems to get lost in the translation." She hoped he didn't see the slight cringe in her shoulders when she realized that she was babbling.
He ducked his head to hide his smile and covered by taking a sip of his beer before answering, "No problems finding the motel. Thanks for the note at the front desk. The gent behind the counter wasn't too hip to parting with your missive, but once I flashed some credentials he was more than happy to comply. Or, at least he complied." He shook his head slightly as he remembered the desk clerk, and then flashed a brilliant smile – a conspiratorial grin – that revealed gleaming white teeth that reminded her of Chiclets.
She set down her pencil and leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest and a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Ah, so that settles any questions of us meeting up with our proper party, although an international icon such as yourself probably wouldn't be vacationing in these here parts." When he scoffed, she amended, "Although rural Minnesota might be just the place for you to get away and get out of the limelight." Her blue eyes twinkled to soften the teasing.
That brought a chuckle. He had to admit that she was awfully engaging. Cases generally required him pulling… dragging… the information pertinent to the case from those requesting help. And while she had yet to tell him much, there was little doubt that information would be easy to come by.
Interrupting his thoughts, she continued, "I'm sure you're ready to get down to business, but this really isn't the place to discuss it. Although there will be some people here who know who you are and can probably make several educated guesses as to why. But in the meantime, maybe we can get you some food if you're hungry; the kitchen should be open for another hour. And then kind of feel each other out."
He swallowed. Hard. It wasn't often than he felt out of control on a case, especially before the investigation really even began, but he had the distinct feeling that she wanted to run the show. He wasn't one who liked to be led, so he knew that they would be stepping on each other's toes.
He didn't want to admit to himself that he found her attractive. There was no way he should even be thinking that. But those eyes… Her bright blue eyes, fringed by thick lashes, were the main feature of her pale, oval face. An upturned nose, with a dusting of freckles that extended onto her high cheekbones, sat right above pillow-soft lips. And while not model beautiful, he couldn't help but feel that she was all the more striking because there was an approachability, as well as a vulnerability, to her. Feel each other out… Stop thinking like that, old man!
He closed his eyes so he could refocus and then took a deep breath, before answering. "Not hungry, but thanks. I ate on the plane. If you can call what I ate food." The comment brought a lopsided smile to her lips that revealed a dimple on her left cheek. "However, I think we both are being a little presumptuous. I know you had requested a female agent--."
"And I know that she got delayed on another assignment," she interrupted, her lips curving from mildly amused to an understanding smile. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how irritating she had found the news. "Your boss, Agent Manning, already put in the call. Said he was sending in his top agent – you – to substitute. Well, he asked if I was all right with that. And while I'm slightly embarrassed by the whole situation, I'm perfectly fine having the internationally renown Hellboy working on my case."
In person, Jade found him to be an imposing presence. At around seven feet, and every inch of his frame bearing well-muscled red skin, Hellboy was a head-turner. Over the years, she, as well as most of the country, had read about his exploits in news magazines or caught an interview with him on the national news, but seeing him in person – with circular stumps that were filed down horns on his forehead, a long red tail, inky black sideburns that were wide enough to land a passenger plane on, a 'soul patch' under his bottom lip and hair pulled back in a samurai 'do, wearing a faded brown leather duster over a tight black t-shirt and black leather pants that ended above the toe tops of motorcycle boots – was something else entirely. She wasn't nervous per se, as his disarming nature oozed out of every pore, but holding a conversation with someone other than a member of her own species required a moment – or two – to adapt. But there was also something she couldn't put her finger on that she found very… charismatic.
Hellboy felt as if a great weight had been taken off his shoulders. He actually smiled back. Tugging on his soul patch, he nodded his head. "So you know who I am. But I'm confused. Although I'm going to presume that no one else in town is expecting me, aren't you supposed to be here with a sister, Mizz… Coquin, correct?"
She extended her hand forward. "Please, call me Jade. And it's a pleasure to meet you. I just wish it were under different circumstances. But again, thank you for coming out so quickly. I just hope that it was warranted and it's not just me losing my mind. Although my sister could also vouch for what happened, as she was the target of the… attack. But since she's not here, and since I'm sure you were wondering where she is, let me tell you that she hightailed it out of here yesterday, heading back down to St. Louis. She thought that if she left here, everything that happened would vanish like a bad memory. I told her to wait, to stay, but there was no deterring her. I… I'm very worried that she may be on the verge of a breakdown of some sorts."
He took her hand in his, noting how slim and elegant her hand was compared to his huge, rough paw. He also noted that she extended her left hand, in deference to the fact that his own right was three times the size of his left and looked as if it were made of stone. The look on her face was that of gratitude, not the usual fear that most women had of him.
"Now, I don't have a lot of details, as I just got a brief summery of the situation while on the flight because, well, I just finished another case and was caught in the airport just before I boarded a flight back home. And, uhm, because I just wasn't given the most detailed of descriptions, to be quite honest." He shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling like a mountain range. "But, from what I gather, I can tell you that it sounds like you have an infestation. How long had it been since you were at the house before taking it over from your parents?"
Jade was quiet a moment, absorbing his assessment. An infestation. What the hell does that mean? She shook her head gently, as if clearing the images in her head, then shrugged her shoulders and looked him square in the eyes as she answered, "At least ten years. Not since I started college. Same for my sister, if not longer. And I know my folks hadn't been to the house for… gads… at least three. They were college professors who liked to summer here at the end of the school year; my dad grew up not too far from here. But then offers to teach classes over the summers, as well as offers to lecture at other schools, became too good to pass up when more and more money was being presented to them. I don't know how such a… an infestation could happen, as the house showed no signs of break-in or any other occupancy when I checked it out. But, I guess somehow it happened. And… they didn't like either of us being there."
Hellboy had to remember that she didn't want to go into the specifics of the case there in the bar and he realized that she had said more than she intended, by the furtive looks she cast at the other bar patrons. There was also the fact that what he meant by an infestation wasn't translating into her mind. He looked down to collect his thoughts and noticed her sketchpad. It looked like a sketch of a stylized golden beetle with its wings spread.
"Journey?"
Her gaze dropped down to her drawing and her lips curved into a lopsided smile and she snorted in disbelief. "What? Journey? Oh man… Godammit! Why didn't I see that? I guess it does look like the Journey logo. Great band, but no. It's just supposed to be a golden scarab beetle. A client of mine requested it for a back piece and so I've been spending my day drawing the same picture in as many different styles as I can think up. Welcome to incarnation seven."
Hellboy's brow arched. "Client? Back piece?" The irritation he felt switching planes which then fermented in the drive to meet Jade was starting to dissipate the deeper they delved into conversation.
"Ah yes. The 'what I do for a living' part of the conversation." She shrugged her shoulders and her lopsided grin developed into a full smile, softening the edge of her words. "I push ink." At the furrowing of Hellboy's brow, Jade amended, "I'm a tattoo artist. I work for a tattoo shop just outside of St. Louis." Digging into her back pocket, she removed a chain wallet and removed a business card. She handed it to Hellboy with a rueful smile.
He took the card without comment and read it.
Drawn and Quartered Tattoo Studio & Piercing Parlor
Jade Coquin
Skin Artist and Proprietrix
Hellboy wasn't usually at a loss for words, but it took him a moment to get his bearings. The idea of this woman bending over large, sweaty men who wanted dollar signs or pit bulls permanently adhered to their stomachs – or worse – was the last thing he ever expected to hear. But he quickly recovered, reminding himself that he was being a hypocrite, judging before delving into the whole story, and then smiled. If this didn't beat all!
"And since it's rather warm in here, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that the hoodie is covering up evidence of your trade?"
Jade laughed, a low belly laugh that Hellboy wanted to hear over and over again. "You found me out. Gotta cover up the tats somehow. The town itself is pretty small and while most of the gents here have some ink, I don't think the gals have more than a butterfly on their shoulder, a flower on their ankle, or some tribal or Celtic design stamped across their lower back. But certainly not one in all three locations. So yeah, you figured me out. Your investigative skills serve you well.
"However, I'm guessing that you're wearing a long coat for similar reasons; to cover yourself up from prying eyes. And since it's damn hot in here tonight, let's go to the front desk at the motel and look into getting you a room. I figured if a female agent was coming out, we could share. But let's see what we can do about setting you up in your own digs. I didn't find out 'til about thirty or so minutes ago it was going to be you – and I was in the middle of dinner here. Sorry I didn't head over there and set it up when I found out, but the grub here is unbelievable. Sure you don't want anything?"
Hellboy shook his head no and watched Jade shrug her shoulders before laying a twenty on the table and tossing her belongings in a messenger bag. She then slid out of her chair, starting towards the door. He downed the rest of his beer and stood up, taking a long moment to appreciate the view as Jade maneuvered her way amongst the tables. Halfway across the bar, she turned around and waited for Hellboy, who raised his beer bottle in salute, let the last few drops in the bottle trickle down his throat and then set the bottle down with flourish. He then followed Jade into the night.