To SandyLee Potts: thank you very much for your review! I love it when readers are intrigued. Pester along, some motivation never killed me, I'd say. :) Got the story mapped out and some parts are written down already, but not in the chapter-by-chapter sense, and not everything is set in stone, and now it's up to my spare time to get things going. Wanted to do some speculative work on the differences characters got, as they were shown in season 1 and later, in other seasons. About Abby and the father: you'll see. It's a double spoiler if I tell you now. :)
2. Blood Money
- Your knife. Now!
She didn't look the least bit impressed. Everyone in that… subdistrict of London and their mother knew: thugs up front were innocent babies. Compared to the man inside.
- Easy. I'm not here to kill anyone… in the pub.
- Your knife, I said.
She squinted at him, musing briefly on a wonderful subject of the missing link, so big, mighty, and stupid. Right there, in front of her. Oh well…
She gave up her weapon. Her apple, too. And a brilliant smile to go along with those, for she was a well-mannered person, and her parents taught her that being friendly and tipping a porter was a good thing to do.
Not that she cared.
The man grunted and stepped away from the door. She walked in. After all, she came to talk to the, ah, esteemed employer of this Gorilla gorilla...
- Mr. Leek, I presume?
He didn't look half the guy she expected to see, but... when this one glanced up from his martini, and patted a bull terrier... The visitor felt a bit like shuddering, if she thought so herself.
This man looked every bit the king, if his eyes and the way mister Leek handled the, er… she-puppy were anything to go by. Oozing confidence. Breathing power.
Yes, she most certainly could believe that Mr. Leek reigned over the local underworld. Good for him, for the dog, and for her.
- Ah, it's you again. The boys said you were in town. A drink, Mrs. Cutter?
How did he?.. She hadn't told any of his gangster club what her name was! Oh well...
- Vodka, please.
She plopped down beside him. The dog growled, and Leek smiled pleasantly.
- Now, now, Dolly... This lady is not for eating. Keep quiet.
The animal shut up. The pub exhaled. The woman sampled her drink.
- So, Mrs. Cutter... What have you got for me?
- Oh, the usual. Ivory, crocodile leather... The crocs were deliciously huge, Mr. Leek.
He took another sip of his martini.
- And I need to look at this regular shipment personally, because?..
She mirrowed his grin.
- I brought one of those leathery friends with me, to show you. It's alive and magnificent, just what you ordered.
Mr. Leek gave Dolly another stroke.
- Didn't your... father wish to add one to his private zoo, Mr. Leek?
Or to arrange a hunt of a lifetime with a nice barbecue party to celebrate it afterwards. Or maybe they weren't really talking about daddy dearest, whatever... Mr. Leek kept on grinning.
- Suppose he did. And your price is?..
He finished his martini. Her smile grew bigger.
- A pack of action men. Say, four or five creatures. Healthy, white, handsome, and absolutely ruthless.
Not a muscle of Mr. Leek's flinched.
- Of course. Should they be armed or… dressed in any particular manner?
She finished her vodka.
- No, not really. Something… casual would do.
They got more vodka and martini, respectively.
- You know, Mr. Leek, I'd love to keep it simple. Your men are to track a girl I point out. They will scare this poor thing, corner her, mug her, and rape her when the mugging is done. Can you provide me with that sort of healthy, white, and handsome creatures to do the job?
Mr. Leek nodded and raised his glass, elegantly.
- To business.
She copied his move.
- Likewise, Mr. Leek. It's a pleasure… doing business with you.
- No, the pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Cutter.
They clinked glasses, briefly. She licked her bottom lip.
- Please, call me Helen.