29
He entered his apartment and flicked his keys into the bowl by the door, humming as he shucked off his jacket and turned to hang it up, pausing as he stared at the faux fur coat hanging there. Slowly he turned to find the owner in the middle of his apartment looking impassively at the artwork on the wall. Like he was in a bloody art gallery or something.
"Hello? Can I help you?" he asked with confusion.
"Yes" came the reply as the man smiled and canted his head, seeming so… familiar.
"Do I know you?"
"No. You do not know me, more is the pity for you sweetie. Had you known about me, you might have been more careful not to upset the apple cart, or the apple of my eye. You see … you pissed in the wrong pot … sorry. Ianto scolds when I use too many metaphors in a story" he grinned, his cheeky impish face suddenly handsome, then soooo familiar.
"you….oh shit. You look like Babs."
"Should do. I am her Papa. John Hart. You upset my princess, you upset her greatly by trying to pop off our dear little Walter. You know … he is protected in ways you could net even begin to imagine little fucktard. You were given a pass, you were allowed to fuck off into the sewers to run in the darkness where you belong but you had to do one more shot across the bow didn't you. One more spilt into the wind. Well … the wind does change, and your face might stay like that!"
OK. He knew he was doing the metaphor thing again but Ianto was not here to roll his eyes. John walked seductively towards the hapless Dale who had NEVER seen a sociopath before and had no idea that he was in deep fucking trouble.
"The one you sent in to fiddle with the lamp was known to our bloke who recognised his signature twist in the wires. He's in a world of pain right now … he will live. Just so you know … we do know that he was sooo sorry in the end."
"So am I" Dale whimpered.
"Oh I know blossom" John purred "Unfortunately …. That's not my problem. I don't care"
Dale blinked as John stepped in so close he could feel his soft breath as he whispered "I don't really cater about anything but my family … you shit in my dirt box buddy."
"What?" Dale blinked with confusion, then his eyes widened as he felt something pinching him, looking down as John slid out the needle that had plunged into the man's chest.
"Oops" John smiled, then punched him hard in the sport where he had injected him, sending Dale to his knees.
"You see … the bruise will hide the injection site. You will look like you had a fight with someone, came hope drunk and …well … died" John shrugged, moving towards the door then pausing to look back with one final word.
"Oh yeah. Walter says fuck you!"