Title: Strays 10/?

Author: veiledndarkness

Pairing: Bobby/Jack

Rating: R

Summary: What's it all worth when you're alone?

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.

Notes: AU, the brothers were not raised together by Evelyn.

X

It could have been worse, Angel reasoned as he lifted the heavy defrosted turkey out of the bathtub. Jack could have been like that snot nose punk, Billy. He grimaced, hefting the wrapped bird up higher. That kid, Christ, he'd wanted to punch that kid's head clean off. Always smirking and cocky, looking at them like he was better...

"Em, where you want this guy?" he moved in the direction of the kitchen, his view obscured by the turkey.

"Put 'im down on the table, boy, right on them towels," Em nodded to the waiting table, her hands under the warm water, covered with soap. She washed her hands carefully, eyeing the bird. "Lord, him a big size, do ya see it? Gonna have us some turkey till Christmas," she laughed merrily and dried her hands off.

Angel grunted and set the turkey down as instructed. "Too big, I'm thinkin' we're gonna be sick of turkey after a week." He cracked his back and sat down on the nearest chair with a sigh. "You hear 'bout Jerry?"

"If you got time t' gossip, ya got time to peel potatoes," Em clucked her tongue at him. "Wash up, boy."

Angel groaned. "Me an' my big mouth," though he stood to do so. "I don't like this shi-...uh stuff, man. I don't like how Bobby ain't what he used t' be, you know?"

Em glared at him, then, hearing the soft footsteps, smoothed out the annoyance. "Lucy girl, you come help this nosy boy with the potatoes."

"Yes..." Lucy nodded, her dark hair spilling over her face.

Em patted her shoulder. "That'sa girl." She looked back to Angel, her eyes narrowed. "An' you, boy, you don't be talkin' about what ya don't know. I made my mistakes, yes; Lord knows I did by thinkin' this Jackie boy ain't nothin' but trouble. Me an' you, we hurt that boy, made him think he ain't no good. I said my apologies; yes I did; now ya gotta do the same."

Angel snorted. "Apologize for what? For tryin' to keep Bobby from losin' his mind again over some piece of ass? Ow, damn it, Em! That hurt." He rubbed his sore ear, ducking back from her.

"Ooh, give me the strength to put ya over my knee!" she pointed at him, nearly on her tip toes with anger. "That mouth of yours, ya ought t' be ashamed, Angel boy!"

"Fine, I'm sorry," he dodged another of her slaps upside his head nimbly. "Calm down, I'm sorry, I swear."

"You tellin' the wrong person! Tell Jackie boy you sorry."

"I will," he held his hands out, sliding closer to Lucy, who let out a small squeak of distress and darted away from him and over to Em's side.

"Now ya see what you done, frightenin' Miss Lucy," Em shook her finger at him, one arm around Lucy. "I'll put ya outside shovelin', I will if'n ya don't stop actin' like a spoiled lil' boy."

Angel sighed and stood back against the counter. "Lucy, hey girl, c'mon, now you know I ain't gonna hurt you, right? How many times we gotta go through this?"

Lucy lifted her head warily, peering at him. "Moves...you move fast," she near whispered, "Fast hits..."

"Nah, girl, I wouldn't, you ever see me lift my hand near you?"

She shook her head, her grip on Em relaxing. She looked to Em for reassurance. "No hurt..."

"Never," Em hugged her gently. "Go on, it's ok, s' gonna be ok, Angel boy jus' runs his mouth sometimes, he don't think 'bout what he's doin', ain't that right?"

Angel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Sure, Em, an' I'll talk to Jack tonight, swear. And for the last time, I'm not jealous of Jack."

"Huh," Em sniffed, letting go of Lucy. "Em believes that when ya prove it. Protectin' you Boss is ya job, ya stick to that, boy. Makin' Jackie feel not welcome ain't no part of your job title, ya remember that, Angel."

"Yes'm," Angel nodded. He scrubbed at his hands, waiting for several quiet minutes before he cleared his throat. "You still haven't answered me, Em. About Jerry..."

Em cut away the wrapping on the turkey, humming as she moved. "Don't know more than ya do. Boss man makes him choices, he don't say why, he do what he do." She set the knife down and tugged the wrapping off. "I'm thinkin' they don't see eye t' eye no more. Don't like how him do things sometimes, that boy makes me wanna whap him good," she mused.

"But...I mean, it's Jerry, y' know? Him an' Bobby, they started this an' now what..."

"Now we do what we do, an' ya keep them lips zipped up, Angel boy," Em grabbed some paper towels, dampening them. She wiped at the turkey, checking it over closely. "Now work on them potatoes. They gonna be back soon."

X

"The answer to this isn't exactly an easy one, now is it?" Victor Sweet chuckled, a shot glass clasped in one hand. "But I must say, doin' business with some men often shows me more than ya think, am I right, Jeremiah?"

"Could be," Jerry ran his finger along the rim of his shot glass. "Some play the cards they get better n' others, and Bobby isn't a fool, Sweet."

Victor lifted the bottle of whiskey and refilled the empty shot glass in Jerry's hand. "True, but I say Mercer is a fool. He let you go, after all. What kind of boss lets his right hand man go outta the blue?"

Jerry contemplated the shot, watching the liquid swirl, his fingers numb. "I dunno," he muttered. "Guess he didn't wanna be called out on differences of opinions."

"I hear things, I got a way of knowin' things and findin' things out, that's my speciality," Victor refilled his own glass and held it up. "I got a way of removing situations when they ain't bein' handled right no more."

"Situations?" Jerry echoed, glancing at him. Something he saw in Sweet's eyes made a shiver slip down his back.

Victor laughed uproariously. "Oh yeah, situations, sometimes they gotta be arranged, sometimes they fall into your lap. I ain't the boss yet, but I will be. We pay our dues, do our time an' then when the time's right, we knock the leader down an' snatch up his shiny, shiny crown," he crooned. "And Victor Sweet is done payin' his dues. I want Mercer gone; I want him out of place!" He downed the whiskey, laughing again. "Don't worry, Jeremiah, I got a spot for you at my side."

"You don't know Bobby like I do," Jerry stared at him, mouth agape. "You don't...Victor, this is crazy, and you're crazy."

"You a pussy? Your dick fall off after all these years of pretty talkin' Mercer? You ever wanted to be one of his lil' boys?"

Jerry's nostrils flared. "You watch your motherfucking mouth, Sweet."

Victor slammed his shot glass down on the desk between them, the sound echoing in the garishly decorated office. "You don't wanna be my enemy, Jeremiah. Right now Bobby's the enemy, and I'm the best fucking chance you got, so don't you spit on me an' talk down to me. You remember that."

"The enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine," Jerry pushed the still full shot glass away, a rush of anger fuelling him. "You're not the biggest threat; you're another dog barkin' at the end of his leash. Who runs you, Victor? Your daddy? The boys on 39th? Someone else to answer to?"

Victor curled his lip, sneering at him. "You watch yourself, Jeremiah; you watch what you say to me."

"There's someone bigger than you, someone like Bobby," Jerry leaned over the desk, his palms on the blotter. He smiled and shook his head, a bright grin for him. "Oh yeah, there is. An' Bobby may not be afraid of him, an' maybe he should be. Maybe you should be too, cause you might not last this time. You might make it past Bobby, but there's always another waitin' in the wings."

"Well thanks for that fantastic piece of advice, Mr. Jeremiah, I had no idea how this shit runs," Victor smirked at him and pointed to the door. "Let yourself out 'fore I drop kick ya out."

Jerry rubbed his hand over his chin. "Ya don't get it, Victor. Bobby's…whatever he's doin', he ain't gonna fall for your shit. You gotta step up your game. S' all I'm gonna say about this."

"Does it look like I want the opinion of the fantastic Mr. Williams? Nah, don't think I asked, but this I do wanna know. Tell me now, what's he got with that piece of ass?"

Jerry frowned, his breath catching for a second. "That kid? Y' mean Jack?"

"Jack…" Victor chuckled quietly. "Lil' Jackie…Funny how new toys can change shit, huh?"

"What?"

Victor poured another belt of whiskey into his glass. "S' about when things started changin', am I right?"

"I…Yeah, actually…"

Victor toyed with the glass for a second. He downed it with a snort. "Pussy, asses, all the same in the darkness," he mused. "Makes you wonder what sweet Jackie's whisperin' in Mercer's ear late at night."

"I told him to relax, to fuck or whatever. Man, I didn't expect this shit. Him and his goddamn strays," Jerry muttered.

"This stray, this Jack has gotten in deep. I say we even things out. Arrange for this situation to ease up…"

Jerry lifted his gaze, his throat working convulsively. "Situation…Victor, you didn't have anythin' to do with his…" he trailed off, afraid of the answer.

Victor's eyes gleamed. "Ain't for you to know, Jeremiah but you remember my offer. Take your place with me."

"I…I dunno."

Victor gestured lazily. "Whatever, you let me know if you think you got what it takes, hm?"

X