So, I don't know if any other writer has attempted, and if someone has I don't mean to copy but I honestly haven't seen anything like this and I thought it would be fun to try. I've actually had this chapter written for months, even before the very first story I published (Perfectly Aligned), but I didn't know how it would be received so I was hesitant to post. But, now I want to take a crack at it. I'm probably just going to do the first episode so this will be about 2-4 chapters. Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 1: Sweet Baby (Part 1)
It was a cold mid-January evening in Washington D.C. and even though the chilly night air was biting at him, Quincy Perkins couldn't slow down even a little bit to quickly put on his suit jacket since he was already more than late. He threw the jacket over his shoulder and took a leap onto a busy street, dodging honking cars as he weaved in and out of the way, praying that he wouldn't get hit. He finally reached the restaurant, which was more like a bar or pub, where his blind date was supposed to be taking place at. Quincy didn't really know why he agreed to it, his life was too full with work and trying to bring in some money anyway, even if he ended up liking the girl, it's not like he would have time for her. He wasn't even ready to date, especially after what happened two years ago.
He walked into the bar and after a few seconds of glancing around aimlessly, Quincy made eye-contact with this beautiful lady. She was an African-American woman, fairly young, maybe late 20's, dressed in a skirt suit—something a little strange for a date, but he disregarded it. After staring back at her for a while, he could tell that she was also eyeing him up and down, sizing him up. The look on her face told him to go over to her. He took a seat across from her and she immediately greeted, "Quincy Perkins, thank you for—"
"As much as I'd love to stay, and I really would," Quincy interrupted, trying to be as polite as possible. "I still have some work to do back at my office. This was probably the worst time for me to schedule a blind date—"
"This is not a blind date," Harriet said, now interrupting him. "This is a job interview and the job is yours if you want it."
"You're a baby lawyer. You're twelve years old," Quincy taunted.
"Actually, I'm twenty-eight…"
"Like I said, I have to get going." Quincy got off the seat, took his jacket from around his chair, and started putting it on. Harriet did the same with a sly, knowing smile on her face.
"Ask me who I work for?" She finally said.
"What?" Quincy asked, a little stunned at how adamant she was about keeping him there.
"Ask me who I work for?"
Quincy let out an exhausted sigh, giving in one last time. "Fine. Who do you work for?"
"Oliver Pope."
IiIiIiIiIiIiI
"So, has George proposed yet?" Oliver Pope asked casually, as he and his associate, Stephanie Finch, Steph for short, descended down an old building in an elevator. He was dressed sharply, like on any other work day and had a briefcase in hand, containing the money they were supposed to hand over in the exchange.
"No, I think he's still really nervous—and right now, you should be, too. What the heck do you think these Russian bastards are going to do to us once they find out that we only have THREE million?" Steph yelled anxiously in her Scottish accent.
"You think so. Hmm, because when I talked to him last, he seemed like he was really going to go for it."
Steph sighed, knowing that Oliver wasn't going to let this go and said, "I don't know, maybe I shouldn't even be getting married. What if I, you know, cheat?"
The elevator came to a stop at the basement floor, which is where they were heading and Oliver and Steph stepped out then paused before opening the door to where they were meeting with the Russians. "Look, Steph, you love him, right?"
"Of course, but I—"
"And he loves you?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure of it."
"Then that's all that matters. If you really love him as much as I know you do, then you guys will be just fine."
"Who knew that you knew so much about love?" She says sarcastically.
Oliver shrugged, with a smug on his face. "I try."
"But we still have another problem on our hands. We're three million short and something tells me that these guys aren't going to be very understanding. This isn't you're average business deal, Oliver. When guys like these don't get what they want, they don't just let you walk away with all bets off the table. They shoot you! Are you ready to be riddle with bullets?"
He rolled his eyes and held up a hand to her, telling her to hush up. He put his hand on the doorknob, flashing her his most charming and confident smile and said, "Watch me work."
As expected, two rough and mean looking men were waiting for them in a small, dim-lit, abandoned-looking room. "Ah, finally," said one of them, as Oliver strode in with Steph at his tail.
"You have the package?" Oliver asked. The man gestured over to where his comrade was standing protectively over a large box.
Oliver put the briefcase on the desk and looked around uninterestedly, waiting for the man to realize that not all the money was there.
"This isn't six million," the man said in his angry, thick accent. "Where is the rest?"
"I don't have it."
"No?" The man said, creeping threateningly closer to Oliver.
"Nyet!" Oliver said back in Russian. The man keeping guard over the package pulled out a gun and pointed it towards Oliver and Steph. Steph put her hands to her face about ready to have a heart attack.
Oliver turned back to the main guy and started blasting him away, "Look, you can choose to take the three million or not, I could really care less, but you should know that in about two hours from now, both or your faces are going to pop up on Homeland Security's radar and if I remember correctly, your flight will be leaving in about four hours. However, there is an earlier flight back to the Motherland that you are welcomed to take but," he checked his watch for effect, "that flight will be taking off in exactly fifty-eight minutes. You can still catch it but only if you leave right now, leave me with my client's package, and take your money. Trust me, boys, by time you get back to Russia, the money will already feel like six million. So, do we have a deal?"
The main guy and his comrade exchange a few glances and then after several more seconds agreed, grabbing the briefcase. Steph quickly glanced into the box, making sure the 'package' was in there and grabbed the box, shuffling out of the room as fast as her legs could carry her. Oliver stood by the entrance, bidding the Russians a farewell, "Nice doing business with you. I thank you, my client thanks you and—"
"Let's go, Oliver!" He heard Steph yell from outside the room.
"—I hope to never see you two ever again," he finished, spinning on his heel and striding out of the room after Steph.
So, I'm just curious to see what everyone thinks. Should I continue or not? Like I said, this story will probably only go for the first episode. Thanks for reading!