A/N: Welcome to story number 13! I hope that's not an unlucky number in this case . This story could be a stand-alone story, but I was inspired to write it after a reader(thanks BlackPuma!) became interested in a throw-away line from my story "The Soldiers of Night," where I mentioned in passing that Mick once worked for Josef. Anyway, I was in the mood to write something a little lighter, so here is my first, all-flashback fic. If you haven't read my past stories (and I hope you try to later!) this takes place nearly twenty years after Mick was turned, before he became a private investigator. He and Coraline are estranged for the moment, and Mick is tired of working dead-end night jobs(so to speak). Here comes Josef, to the rescue. And it's my understanding from the show's history, that Mick didn't really give up freshies until after Beth's abduction by Coraline in the 1980's, so don't be too shocked if he "partakes" in this story. This fic won't be long—likely under five chapters; unless I just can't seem to stop myself. Sort of like with this introduction, lol.
Working for the Man, Chapter 1
Los Angeles, 1969
MICK
I was bussing a particularly messy table left by some teenagers when I caught the scent of a familiar vamp. I could smell his age even over the clashing fragrances of grilled hamburgers, onions, and cheap perfume. But just because I could smell him, didn't mean I was happy to see him.
Josef Kostan came into Gino's All-Night Diner, looking completely out of place in his high-dollar suit and conservative hair cut. Most of the dive's nightly patrons were drifters, long-haired teenagers, and night owls. It wasn't really a family establishment. Still, it helped pay the bills—usually. He sat down in the red Naugahyde booth next to the one I was cleaning. I picked up a saltshaker and it spilled all over the table. Stupid kids.
"Shit," I said under my breath.
Josef grinned. He looked up at my attire—long white apron over my uniform blue oxford shirt with the cheesy red piping, navy blue slacks, and a lovely red and white paper hat over my shoulder-length, shaggy hair.
"Nice hat," he commented.
"Go to hell, Josef," I said softly so the two other diners in the restaurant wouldn't hear. It was two in the morning, and I still had four more hours until my shift was done. I began piling dishes and glasses into a plastic tub to take back to the kitchen to wash them. I wiped ketchup from my hands on the front of my apron in disgust. But despite my annoyance at Josef coming to observe my lowering in station, I hadn't seen him in awhile since I'd been working so much. I had to admit I'd missed him.
"So, what's there to eat in this fine establishment?" I gave him a look of supreme impatience. Of course there was nothing to eat here that he could possibly want.
"Menu's under the glass on the table," I said, humoring him so I wouldn't get fired. "You need to buy something if you're gonna sit here," I smirked, reciting diner policy.
Josef looked in distaste at the menu, then around the restaurant at the other two patrons. A trucker sat at the counter on a rotating bar stool, a woman who looked like a prostitute on break sat at a nearby booth.
"Tell you what—send each of my fellow customers a slice of your finest apple pie, on me. How's that?"
"Nice of you, but you should at least have something in front of your for appearance's sake, Josef."
He sighed, looking back down at the list of beverages. "You can't even get a beer here?"
"Nope. Soda pop, milkshakes, or coffee."
"Okay. A glass of water, if you please."
"I'm not a waiter."
About that time, Connie, the night shift waitress, came tiredly from refilling the trucker's coffee over to wait on Josef. When she caught sight of his classy suit and boyish good looks, she seemed to perk right up, unconsciously twirling her flipped up hairdo. Josef smiled and repeated his order to her, turning on all the charm. He even got Connie to smile—a feat I had yet to accomplish myself. She walked away to place his order, a new spring in her step beneath her blue and red work dress, Josef's eyes glued to her swaying ass.
"What do you want really?" I asked, wiping down the table. "Except to get your kicks laughing at the busboy and flirting with the waitress?"
"Have I laughed, once?"
At my look, he did laugh. "Mick, I've come to take you away from all this. You don't belong here."
I glanced at the order pick-up window, hoping my boss, Gino—also the cook—wouldn't notice I was fraternizing with a customer. I switched to vampire level speech.
"Unlike you, I'm not independently wealthy, Josef. There are only so many jobs that have a night shift that don't require an education. I've tried them all, too. Security guard, liquor store clerk, even medic for an ambulance. I'm workin' two jobs a week—this one and as a bouncer at a sleazy downtown club, on alternating nights. I'm trying to get a band started up again, but my old band mates are nearly twenty years older now, and I'm not. I feel so old next to the young guys around, the ones who aren't in Vietnam, that is. And you remember how bad our quartet we started was? Maybe I should try a solo act." I sighed heavily, moving to the next table to wipe it down.
"What became of the ambulance gig? You were a medic in the War, right?"
"Yeah, but being around blood all the time was harder than I thought it would be; I'm still having trouble dealing with that. I didn't think the risk was worth the job. That was good money, though," I said regretfully. At this time I was a relatively young vampire, nearly twenty years turned, and while I had great self-control, even the oldest vamps are tempted around warmly flowing, fresh blood.
"I'd like to get an education, but I don't have the money to go to school."
"What about your mom?" Josef asked. My dad had passed away ten years before, and I still missed him every day.
"She just went into a nursing home. I had to sell her house for her to pay for it. Dad didn't leave her much. It's a good thing she's going blind, or I wouldn't be able to visit her anymore."
I hated even saying blindness was a good thing, but that allowed me to at least hold on to my mother for a while longer. But I was in a shitty mood, mad at Coraline for staying in England and letting me flounder here, penniless. I was staying in her old party house where we'd first met, but the electric bill was about to eat my lunch. Speaking of which, freshies weren't cheap either, and Red Cross blood just wasn't the same. I felt at loose ends and angry most of the time.
"Sorry to hear about your mom. You really are down on your luck these days. That's why I'm here, as I was saying. I'd like to help you, if you'll let me."
I took the dish tub back into the kitchen. "Can I have my break?" I asked Gino.
The short, mustachioed restaurateur nodded. "Yeah, it's slow. Take fifteen, then get back and wash these dishes."
"Yes sir." I pulled off my apron and hat and went back out front to sit across from Josef. We continued speaking below audible human levels.
"I'm not taking your money, Josef," I told him, having refused him countless times before. "I've just gotten out from under Coraline's thumb; I'm not ready to be under yours now too."
"I've given up trying to offer you cash, Mick. No, I'm giving you a chance to earn it. Come work for me."
I looked at him in surprise. I'd never even considered that. He continued his hard sell.
"The pay would be great, you'd be able to stop this…manual labor. I'd even help work out your hours so maybe you could go to night school, or start that singing career. What do you say?"
Hmmm…working for Josef. I don't know.
"Would I have to call you boss?" I grinned.
"Only if you want to, or just sir…or Mr. Kostan," he replied dryly.
"And what would my job be? Would I get my own office?" This idea still seemed pretty farfetched. I had never been office material, and except for my stint in the Army, I hated taking orders. I couldn't imagine having to do what my best friend told me to do, even though he was always a fount of well-meaning advice.
Josef regarded me a minute, no doubt considering my personal characteristics, and character flaws.
"I have a few ideas for your job. And, I suppose I could find you an empty office. You'd have to wear a suit and tie, though. Still interested?"
"No way! Not a goddamn monkey suit! Come on, Josef, really? You know how much I hate wearing a suit. Ties are like nooses, man. I watched one slowly kill my father."
"Your father was an insurance salesman, Mick. You won't be in sales, I promise. Besides, it's not like you have to worry about heart problems." Well, I guess he was right there. But an office? In a suit?
"Josef, I swore I would never be like my father—"
"And you won't," he interrupted. "Give it a chance. Hey, it'll be fun. I give breaks of a lot longer than fifteen minutes, and you should see the size of the…refreshments…" He used his hands to imitate an hourglass shape.
"That's bribery, Josef," I said, thinking of the bottle of cold blood at home in my refrigerator, not to mention my celibate lifestyle of late. I still wore my wedding ring, after all, though why I was still loyal to that bitch, I'll never know.
"Yes it is."
"Hey, St. John," Gino suddenly called from the kitchen, "these dishes ain't gonna wash themselves. Break time's over."
Josef looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Well?" he asked softly.
"Alright, but I should finish this shift." I got up to go give Gino my two-days' notice. I know it should have been two weeks, but the lure of getting out of these clothes and into Josef's posh office building was stronger than any guilt I might be feeling. Besides, as Gino often loved to tell me, busboys were a dime a dozen.
Josef got up to leave too, leaving Connie a fifty dollar tip and a wink as he walked past her. I watched in amazement as she blushed scarlet.
"Thanks for the pie, man," said the prostitute. "I can meet you out front for…repayment."
He reached out and caressed her heavily made-up cheek."Tempting, sweetheart, but I've got to get back to work."
The trucker just nodded to Josef, but looked with renewed interest at the prostitute. He moved from the counter to sit beside her. Josef was always bringing people together, especially in business.
"And I'm not cutting my hair," I called after him. He paused at the door, chuckling as he looked back at me.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, so only I could hear, "but you show up in that god-awful uniform tomorrow and you'll be fired on the spot."
I grinned, and for the first time in six months, I didn't mind the dishpan hands at the end of the night.
TBC
A/N: Do you like this so far? Please let me know or else I'll just assume I need to quit while I'm ahead…