25. Trouble Lurking

Blossom felt his presence before she saw his face, grinning sardonically up at her from the crowd of reporters.

She ignored him as long as humanly possible until his steady hand was too much to bear; she looked him in the eyes, at long last, and gave a tiny sigh.

"Yes, you, sir, with the red tie?"

"Brick Jojo, Miss Utonium, from the Townsville Journal." His words had an ironic ring, as did his expression. "You say that Townsville's streets are safer than they were a year ago. My sources tell me that a new crime ring has emerged and has sworn to—and I quote—'bring down the Utonium girls and have them groveling on their knees'." His smile was entirely too knowing for her liking. "Your reply?"

"If you're referring to the Easy Street bootlegging chain, then yes, I'm familiar," Blossom nodded. "You can tell your 'sources' that they can breathe hot air all they want, because I and my sisters are more than prepared to deal with any threat against the citizens of Townsville's peace and safety."

"How do you plan on beating this new gang?" Brick continued.

"By any means necessary," Blossom replied, a hard edge to her voice that didn't escape the press members' notice. "No further questions. Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen."

Blossom escaped back into the Townsville Police Station's doors, ducking through the halls to her office, where she could sit back and relax with a hot cup of coffee. Before she was even properly settled in her chair the door glided open and closed, and the aroma of fresh coffee wafted across her nose as the lock clicked.

"A cup of Joe for Townsville's greatest hero," Brick's voice cut across her musings as he set a mug in front of her. "That was a pretty speech."

"Pretty maybe, but heaven knows how long it'll hold them," Blossom murmured, sipping the piping hot liquid. "Was the question really necessary?"

"I have to show my superiors I'm doing my job," Brick replied, pulling the drapes in front of the windows closed.

"What superiors?" Blossom mumbled into the coffee. "It's your newspaper."

"Then my inferiors," Brick shrugged. Blossom felt a feather-light touch of lips on her cheek and turned to receive the full impact on her own mouth.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, frowning as he loosened his tie. "It's too soon after the press conference. Someone will be at my door any minute."

"Doubtful," Brick replied. "They'll be a little occupied with the sudden fire in the building next door."

"Please tell me you didn't," Blossom groaned, only resisting a little when Brick maneuvered her out of her own chair and settled in it himself, setting her in his lap.

"It's small. It'll be fully contained in less than an hour," Brick murmured into her hair. "Plenty of time, don't you agree, doll?"

"I told you," she growled as his nimble fingers slid effortlessly towards the top of her stockings, "not to call me that."

"And miss the reaction?" he laughed in a low voice. "Not a chance."

"You said you had sources," Blossom said suddenly. Brick sighed.

"Must we talk about that now?" he asked, hitching her leg more securely around his waist. She pushed back from him, standing up and straightening her clothes.

"Yes," she said simply. "I want to know who they are."

"Does it matter?" he frowned. "Sources are sources. You know I can't rat them out."

She merely stared at him and he stared back. He tsked.

"Always the same with you," he grumbled. "I can't enjoy being with you for one second without you wanting to talk business, can I?"

"You want me, you answer the business. Now spill," she crossed her arms. "I need names."

"We're running out of time, doll," Brick growled. "They'll have the fire out in no time and then we'll get caught. Is that what you want?"

"Names," she insisted. Brick swore, standing up and pacing the room.

"Who do you think?" he snapped. "Who is it always?"

She picked up the coffee and sipped it. She then dumped it, mug and all, in her trash can and walked towards the door. Before she could reach for the lock Brick grabbed her arm, spinning her around and dipping her low so all attempts to escape would end up with her falling. She scowled.

"I'm not in the mood for this right now," she hissed. He kissed her, hard and long. She thought about budging but didn't. "Names."

"Mojo and Butch, who else?" he finally spat. Once the words were out of his mouth it attached itself firmly to her neck, but she pushed him back again, forcing him to stand her upright.

"Are you part of it?" she asked. He didn't answer, but his hand moved for his hat. "Stop avoiding me. Are you part of it?"

"Here and there," Brick said after a moment. "Enough to stay on the inside and get you your precious information."

"It's for the good of Townsville!" Blossom cried, feeling somewhat scandalized. Brick laughed humorlessly.

"What this is, doll, is you using any means necessary. Be honest. You weren't thinking of the good of Townsville when you ripped the shirt off my back the first time, were you?"

Blossom didn't reply, but she turned scarlet.

"Stupid me," Brick finally said. "I guess I thought that maybe, after all this time, you'd learn to stop using me as a mole. I got news for you, doll, this thing of ours was going long before you realized I had connections in dark places. I don't know where you get the chutzpah to try and pump me for information now after I went through all that trouble to get you alone, but wherever it came from, it needs to go back." He unlocked the door with more force than necessary. "Good afternoon, Miss Utonium." He slammed the door on his way out and Blossom sank back into her chair, wobbly-kneed.

About five minutes later he stormed back in, grabbed his hat, jammed it on his head, stared at her for a moment, took it back off, and locked the door again.

"That fire seems to be getting out of control," Brick whispered in her ear.

"Let it," Blossom murmured back.

A/N: 1920s returns, this time with the Reds and their messed-up relationship. It's hard to tell it's 1920s with them; neither of them use much slang. But this is how it is; Blossom is the chief-of-police having a steamy affair with sorta-ex-criminal editor-in-chief of a hard-hitting newspaper Brick. There were a lot of hyphons in that sentence. Originally I hated this piece; it was basically Brick whining about how "she didn't care about him" and stuff, and it is still mainly that, but...I dunno, I like this piece better than the one that came before.

Have any of you seen The Adjustment Bureau? Pretty good. In parts reminded me of these two, for some reason.

Review plz. :3