"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell."
― Oscar Wilde

Prologue: The Pull

The plan was simple. Get in, disable the security system, grab the documents, and then put the alarm back up as if they weren't there at all. Or at least that was what Megera had told Flynn -she didn't mention that he was to sit outside on standby in case something went wrong. If he had to be completely honest, it felt more like he was the watch dog while she got what they needed.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Flynn pulled out his trusty pack of cancer sticks, and popped one in his mouth, lighting it with the nice Zippo lighter Meg had lifted off a particular greasy looking biker back when they used to be more than just partners. He sucked in the tobacco smoke and breathed out; not only did it taste great but felt great too. A bit of nostalgia hit him as he watched the pavement glisten with the late night fog that had settled around him.

He hadn't been back in the city for more than a day when Meg had called him up with a job. A job -she assured him- that would get him in deep with some big money and steady work and no need to leave town when it was all through; as long his skills were required. Always one up for an adventure that led to big money, Flynn agreed, not really hearing the details.

"And now here I sit, regretting every second of it," he sighed, taking in another drag and letting out the smoke and watching it mix into the thick fog. He hadn't noticed his old partner slide into place beside him, her face pulled into a mask of irritation.

"What are you bitching about now?" she asked in her low husky voice.

"GAH!" Flynn yelped, dropping his cigarette on the ground. "Aw, man, I barely got started on that too!"

Meg rolled her large velvety purple eyes, "I thought you quit," and proceeded forward, not looking back. She was always like that, either you kept up, or she left you behind.

Flynn followed effortlessly, they may have been almost the same height –she was an inch or two smaller- but he was still faster than she was. Where she was the expert in getting people to giving her things by asking nicely with little lies and promises, he was good at taking and running the hell out of there.

"And I thought you said I had bigger job in all this instead of just sitting and waiting in the cold," he complained.

With that Meg stopped and looked around casually before looking at him, she unzipped her black leather, "You do, you're making the drop for me."

Flynn followed her suit of casualness and unzipped his own, but he couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. He hissed, "What!"

Meg began to smooth her hands down his shirt under his leather jacket, her right hand hesitating slightly on the butt of the gun he kept concealed under his jacket. Then she leaned in whispering quickly in his ear, while sliding what felt like a folder from her jacket into his, placing it securely where his gun pressed against him to keep it from falling out, "I'm being followed. Drop this off at the shipyard near the Pier. There will be a man dressed in black waiting for you when you get there. Give this to him, and then meet me at our usual place."

And before he had time to give her a signal that he understood, she clocked him in the jaw with her dainty, yet powerful left fist. "And don't ever follow me again, asshole! I told you before! We're through!"

Clutching his jaw, he watching as she stormed across the street and the fog engulf her tiny figure. Exactly two seconds after she had disappeared, he watched twin like figures followed her, quick and slippery like eels. Flynn turned and started tugging his zipper up as he continued down the path to his beat up deep green 1970s Oldsmobile. Meg was a big girl, and knew how to take care of herself; he knew -when he first set eyes on her- that this was a girl who was never a damsel in distress. He didn't need to worry about her -she knew how to get herself out of situations easily.

He got to his car, and waiting for a minute or two before starting it up. He drove, taking his dear sweet time in case he too was being followed. When he was 100% certain he wasn't, he made his exit leading to the shipyard, pulling into the first aisle of large containers.

And so he waited, until a rap on his passenger window had him looking at a long triangular shaped face, with a hooked nose attached to it, cold onyx eyes and a twisted smile that Flynn knew as trouble. Flynn reached over and opened the door for this man, knowing that he had to be the one Meg mentioned, but to be certain…

Flynn did the once over, noticing the man's black on black three piece suit, it was as if he was dressed for a funeral. But the air around him was that of a business man who didn't mind using a few dirty tricks to get what he wanted. Instantly, Flynn had wondered what sort of trouble Meg had gotten herself into.

"Hello, Flynn Rider, I believe you have something for me," the man said.

Flynn raised a skeptical eyebrow, he wasn't about to make a rookie mistake and hand over the documents until he was certain that this was the man he was supposed to meet.

When the man realized that Flynn didn't trust him, his smile tightened, making Flynn realize that he wasn't a patient person.

"Boy does Meg know how to pick 'em," the man sighed to himself. "Look buddy, the quicker you hand over the documents, the quicker we can both get out of here."

"That would be all well and good," Flynn said lazily, realizing that he could have the upper hand, "but how do I know I can trust you?"

The man's eyes went from cold to deadly quick, and the smile on his lips held a sort of dark humor that clouded his face as the cool barrel of the man's gun was pointed at Flynn's face before Flynn could get his, "You don't. Now give me the documents."

Not ready to lose his head, Flynn handed over the papers. With the gun still pointed at Flynn's face the man plucked them from his hands with no sense of urgency, he took his eyes off Flynn, and breathed, "Good girl," under his breath and looked back up at Flynn, holstering the gun, and replacing his deadly mask with his cold and civil one, he also didn't make a move to leave Flynn's car.

"Now," the man said as if he had all the time in the world, "let's talk business. I'm willing to offer you 20% for every job I throw your way. Granted, you get them done quickly and with ZERO problems."

Flynn pulled a face, "You're the man that's offering the job?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I?" the man said, following it with a civil chuckle, as if he hadn't threatened Flynn with a gun a few moments ago, "My name is Hades, and I want to recruit you for my little business."

"What sort of business would that be?" Flynn asked, sounding dumb, even to him.

Hades' smile broadened, "Secrets. I'm what the bigwigs call in when they want things done under the table. Of course, I don't do things for free; I start off about a mill a job, depending on the urgency and danger of it."

Flynn looked at Hades, and he began to wonder how Meg could have ever got caught up with this guy. The danger he possessed was stinking up his car. Yet 20% of $1 million… Flynn looked around his beat up two-seater Oldsmobile and his slightly worn down clothes, comparing it to Hades' clean-cut and sharp look.

"I'm willing to negotiate 45% of whatever the jobs offer."

Hades smile was bigger than Flynn had ever seen it since they started talking; and quickly Flynn was wondering what he was getting himself into.

"Now that's the spirit."


A/N: Hello, there, Gregoria here!

I know this story is a bit unorthodox to be done Disney characters, but this is the result of enough fanfictions, film noir and enough Humphrey Bogart to make me realize that these characters would fit together for this story. At first I was hesitant to do it, but with enough coaxing and support from Suzerenma I decided to stick my neck out there and give it a try. It's my first fanfic, so please be kind. Please let me know what you think, and I'll look forward to writing out more.

This goes without saying, but this is a fan-based work, I own no characters in this story and write it purely out of enjoyment.