On the Run

On the Run

Chapter 6: Dinner Tables and Bars

"Holy..." Nathan said, almost in shock from Vinny's sudden use of magic. "That was unexpected, man."

"Yeah," Joe said.

"It's the business. Get used to it," Vinny said.

* * *

"Welcome to New York City," Joel said as him and his partners appeared in the Big Apple. They were at a Ministry office, part of Criminal Investigations.

Colin Creevey took note of his surroundings, knowing this would all be included in his reports to the world.

George Weasley felt right at home at a place like this.

"I'm gonna go tell the guys we're here," Joel said. "We'll be making some underworld contacts...making some connections. I doubt they're in New York, but you never know what you might turn up."

* * *

The Godfather sat in his bedroom, his son Vinny sitting across from him.

"So they didn't screw it up?" the Godfather asked. Vinny shook his head.

"We can trust 'em."

"Good." The Godfather made his way up from his wheelchair. "The Ministry men are in New York City. I've got connections in the Big Apple, throwing them off-track. I'm just worried someone will betray us. This family's been embarrassed enough as it is."

"Don't worry, Dad." Vinny got up from his seat and began to get up. "I don't think anyone will."

* * *

"Well..." Nathan rubbed his hands together as Vinny stepped out of his father's bedroom.

"You're in," Vinny said. "Dad trusts you. The Ministry people are in New York City right now. You're safe as well."

"Good," Joe said. "So when are we gonna meet everyone?"

"Yeah." Max said. "When will we meet everyone?"

"There'll be a dinner tonight to celebrate your welcoming into our family. You're in our family now." Vinny turned to Joe, as if speaking to him. "Remember that."

* * *

"Welcome to New York City," a man in black robes said, shaking hands with the Joel, George, and Colin. "It's great to have you here."

"Our pleasure," Joel said. "As you know...we're searching for Max Brown, Nathan Talon, and Joe Young. If I'm not mistaken, Nathan's father was involved with the Vinicci Mafia," Joel said. "But the Ministry never got confirmation on that."

"True," the main said. "Do you think they're with the Viniccis?"

"I'd bet on it," George said, stepping into the conversation. "They want protection."

"Not only do they want it, they need it," Colin added.

"They do," Nathan said. "We need to make some connections here...find out if anyone knows anything."

"We've got that covered," the Ministry man said. "Just follow me."

* * *

"Come together right–" Joe sang as he quietly walked through the house. He passed a man in a suit, the man's arm around a woman.

"Shut up, you dumb–" the man began.

"Benny, don't use profane language!" the woman said, turning to the man. They began to kiss passionately.

"Jesus," Joe said. He ran to his bedroom. This world was so different.

* * *

Duke Dingo flipped through his Hogwarts yearbook, looking at his old friends, foes, and common acquaintances. He wondered what they would think of him now, the slacker who talked back to teachers, now turned into Minister of Magic, most powerful man in the magical world.

He stopped at a woman's name, someone he had long sought after in his seven years at Hogwarts. She'd of course rejected him, opting instead for a Quidditch captain named Doug.

Duke had, of course, sat in the background, always admiring the beauty that was Monica Phillips from afar. His confidence had never been that great.

How he wanted her. How he now had the chance...

Perhaps just dinner, he thought to himself, a chance to remember old times.

* * *

"Oh, I'm sorry," Joe said, noticing a beautiful woman making his bed. Her hair was light blonde, her eyes a dark hazel. Her hourglass figure moved gracefully, a sight to heal the blind.

"Oh, it's okay," she said, smiling.

"Are you a maid?" Joe asked. The woman shook her head, smiling. Joe smiled back.

"I'm just one of those mobsters' wives," she said. Joe suddenly began to feel shame at his feelings.

"Why were you making my bed?" he asked.

"I'm a clean freak," she said.

"What's your name?" Joe asked.

"Sarah Vinicci–I'm Vinny's wife."

* * *

Nathan and Max sat in the living room, conversing.

"Isn't it neat, Max?" Nathan asked. "I mean, this is what our parents lived in...a world where you can trust no one...you can have whatever you want...there's intrigue...there's suspense...there's–"

"Murder," Max said.

"Pardon?" Nathan asked.

"There's murder," Max said.

"No different from our world."

"We're in the same world, Nathan! Get over it! You're on the same planet; you're under the same government; the laws are the same; the people are the same! We've been in New Orleans for like two days, and you've just suddenly changed! I don't like this, Nathan. I don't like it at all."

"Max, this is our only way to get protected. We're better off here than running across the world."

"Screw this!" Max said. "I want to go! I can see my uncle here; I'm half-American, you know."

"You sound very British to me," Nathan said.

"Screw you, too," Max said. "This place is dangerous."

"Why?" Nathan said. "Your dad was–"

"My dad was killed, Nathan! By a rival Mafia! Your dad barely got out of it alive!"

"Joe's fine with this, Max. And if he's fine with it, you should be, too."

"I don't think Joe is, Nathan. But I think he'll risk it...just to please you."

"That's bull, Max. You know it."

A large elegant door was opened, and in stepped Vinny Vinicci.

"Hello," Vinny said pleasantly, noting the looks in the two men's eyes. Physical violence was looming on the horizon.

Clarice entered behind Vinny, spreading her arms under his waist. Vinny made a stop motion, though he was enjoying his little massage.

"Later today," he said. "We've got a problem."

"Boys will be boys," Clarice whispered. She licked his ear. "But men are another case..."

"Clarice, please leave; I'm embarrassed." Max arched his eyebrow at Vinny, a look of curiosity on his face.

"Alrighty," Clarice said. She left, closing the doors behind her.

"Women."

"Yes, indeed," Max said.

"You wouldn't know, Max," Nathan said.

"Shut up," Max replied.

"Please sit down," Vinny said, motioning toward the leather couch. They each took a seat, Vinny crossing his legs.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked. Joe looked at Nathan and turned back.

"What seems to make you think there is a problem?" Joe asked. Nathan stared down at the couch.

"I heard arguing," Vinny said. "If there's anything wrong here, just let us know; and we'll take care of it."

"We were..." Nathan said, thinking.

"Rehearsing," Max said. "We were rehearsing."

"Rehearsing?" Vinny asked. "For what?"

"A play," Nathan said. "Well, not as much rehearsing as writing. We're writing a play."

"And we were trying out dialogue," Max said. "Because sometimes written dialogue just doesn't work."

"Ah," Vinny said. "Will you be able to perform it?"

"We're only on the rough draft, and Max is heckuva rewriter."

"I'm a perfectionist," Max said, shrugging. "Blame it on my parents. Everything just had to be perfect..."

"I heard references to your parents..."

"It's autobiographical," Nathan said. "It's about..."

"Two men, fugitives that were framed, on the run from a corrupt sheriff in their British hometown, hiding in the home of the town criminal mastermind who also runs a small-town organized crime group, muggers and such."

"Nice," Vinny said. "I hope to see it performed, if you finish the play."

"You never know," Max said.

"Well, I'll leave Gilbert and Sullivan to themselves," Vinny said, getting up and walking to the door.

"But they wrote musicals," Nathan said. Vinny turned around.

"It's just a figure of speech, my playwright friend. Good day."

And with that, Vinny shut the doors and walked out.

* * *

"We need to hit the streets," Colin said, looking through the files on the New York City Mafia contacts. "We're not gonna find any information in these files."

"He's right," George said. Joel nodded.

"Yeah, I know. I think we need to start at the Jolly Jackal Bar," Joel said. "This bar's all but run by the largest Mafia here...they've got connections to basically every Mafia in the world...it's one of the largest in the world."

"Well, let's go," Colin said.

* * *

It was around eight o'clock in London, and Duke had been working late. Monica Phillips was meeting him tomorrow for lunch. She was living in France now, a teacher at a magical college. She was recently getting over her ex-boyfriend, and she had apparently never married. Duke wondered how, but she seemed like the kind of girl who would never settle down.

Perhaps he could get her to settle down...Duke considered it doubtful; the last romantic relationship he'd had with a woman in his forty-five year old life was about fifteen years before, and his girlfriend had broken it up the night before he was going to propose–he'd had it all planned already, but his beautiful Heather had found another man.

It had been rather crushing for Duke, and he had to turn to psychiatric help. He could not receive any advice from his parents, as they had been the first kill of Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort and a close friend of Duke's parents, growing up from their Hogwarts years. Tom moved to Australia after leaving Hogwarts, starting up a wand shop with Duke's father. The rest, as they saw, was history.

He apparated out of his office; he was one of the select few to be able to apparate in and out of the building. Normally, he would apparate outside of the building, but in this case, he was too tired to care.

His body disappeared from his office, and an absent-minded Duke had forgotten to take his briefcase. He couldn't care less.

* * *

"Dinnertime!" Vinny yelled, peeking his head into the trio's room. "Get something nice on."

He immediately left. "Sorta early," Max said. Joe shrugged, and with a little flicker of his brand new wand, a pair of khakis, a blue collar shirt, and a navy sweater appeared out of thin air.

"Fashionable," Nathan commented.

"Excuse me while I change," Joe said, magicking an invisibility shield around him as he changed clothes.

When he came out, all he needed was socks and dress shoes. He magicked a pair of navy socks and a pair of Dr. Marten's, putting them on.

"Hey, Joe, you think the Doc Marten people are gonna be mad that you basically stole a pair of their shoes?" Max asked.

"Max, I've been doing this for years. They haven't cared yet."

"I'm sure everyone does it."

* * *

The Jolly Jackal was a very fancy place, with people in tuxedos entering and exiting at will. It was located right in the heart of the Muggle section of New York City. Little did those Muggles know wizards had built a metropolis under the subway tunnels.

Joel stepped up to the door, knocking on it.

"Do you have a reservation?"

"No," Joel said.

"Then what's the password?"

"Just give me a little kiss," Joel replied.

The door opened, and a large, buff man stood in the doorframe. "Welcome to the Jolly Jackal," he said in his dull voice, "the best bar in town."

"Thank you," Joel said. "We'd like to see Mister Smith."

"Excuse me?" the man asked. "No one sees Mister Smith without an appointment."

"Mister Smith?" George whispered to Colin. "Odd name for a high-powered Mafia guy."

"It's all a bunch of marriage stuff," Colin said. "Mister Smith's dad got involved with this Mafia, and Mister Smith married the Godfather's daughter. The power went to him."

"Ah."

"He knows who we are," Joel told the man. The man nodded.

"And I think I know, too," replied the man. He grabbed Joel's neck, throwing him against the door.

"Jesus Christ," Colin said. The man picked Joel up by his neck and grabbed Colin as well. George pulled out his wand; but the man kicked him in the shin, George falling to the ground.

"Mister Smith has been waiting to see you," the man said. He put Joel and Colin on the ground and helped George up. "He has much to talk about."

* * *

The dining room in the Vinicci house was very long, made of cypress wood; and it was covered with wonderful food. There was shrimp gumbo, sausage jambalaya, boudin, sweet potatoes, and some other vegetables.

"Clarice, it looks delicious," Vinny said, taking a seat next to Sarah, his wife. Joe sat at the end of the table, far away from Vinny yet sandwiched between his friends. He looked at her, then turned away.

"Just like home," Joe said. "Gotta love boudin."

"What's boudin?" Nathan asked. "It's got a scary name."

"Stuffed sausage," Joe said. "Usually stuffed with rice, very good."

Max looked at the food on the table and smiled to himself. Even if he was British, the food did not look disgusting to him as it did to Nathan. It looked rather appealing.

This looks like junk, Nathan thought to himself.

Joe stared at Sarah, who did not seem to notice him. Vinny stood up, ringing his wine glass with his spoon.

"Would anyone like to say grace?" he asked.

"Sure," Joe volunteered. Vinny sat back down.

"In the name of the Father..." Joe said grace; everyone saying "Amen" at the end of the prayer.

"Would any of the Brits like to try some excellent Louisiana cooking?" Vinny asked.

The mobster known as Benny spoke. "I don't know," he said, smiling. "One of the fat ones ain't lookin' too keen on it."

"Gimme some of the jambalaya," Max said.

"Alrighty," Clarice said.

"Is the Godfather coming?" Joe asked.

"Dad likes to keep to himself," Vinny said.

The woman next to Benny spoke to Nathan from across the table: "Are you going to eat anything?" she asked him. Max was receiving his plate, and immediately he dove in, his fork flying over the rice and sausage.

"Sure," Nathan said, sighing. "Give me some boudin, some sweet potatoes, and that soup junk."

"Will do," the woman said, bending over the table and grabbing a plate. She put some of each on the place. The soup junk Nathan had been referring to was gumbo.

"How 'bout you, Joe?" Clarice asked.

"I'll fix my own, thank you," Joe said. "Just trying to decide what I'll have first."

"Are you familiar with these foods?" Clarice asked.

"Of course. I grew up in Bayou Foster."

"Wonderful little town," Sarah said. Clarice nodded in agreement. By then Joe had a plate flying in the air, and he had gotten himself jambalaya, boudin, and some vegetables. He was also wondering if Sarah knew anything about Clarice and Vinny.

"Great food," Max said, having emptied his plate. "I'll get myself some more."

Nathan sat there, playing a staring game with his gumbo.

* * *

Mr. Smith was a very skinny man with two scantily dressed women at his side. He was dressed in a suit, a lot more than what his companions were wearing.

"Welcome, gentlemen." He shooed off the women. The Ministry's agents took no notice.

"Joel Coen and company, welcome to the Jolly Jackal. I think I know why you're here."

Joel nodded. Colin and George stood still. The large man was behind them.

"Frederick, please leave." The large man left the room. "So, are you looking for information from Mister Smith, Godfather of the largest family in the world? The family that is so large, it is headed by a non-Italian?"

"Yes," Joel said. "Your family–or well, your slightly adopted family–has had some trouble lately."

"Indeed we have," Mister Smith said. "But what's that got to do with it?"

"We're offering to clear up your family, in exchange for information on the whereabouts of Nathan Talon, Max Brown, and Joe Young."

"And you'll clean our records?"

"Not totally; too a fair extent."

"I'm going to have to refuse your offer, my colleagues. It's not anything personal, just I have a code of ethics. Not many Godfathers have them, but I do. It's said, but it's also true. Our men got themselves into jail. We had escape plans for them when they were caught, but the men did not practice these plans. The appropriate punishment must be taken. I'm sorry, but you're free to go."

Joel, Colin, and George turned to the door.

"Hold on," Mister Smith said. "On a little side note: I've heard the fugitives went south. They're still in America, and they're more in the southeastern part of it. From there, I dunno. My guess would be Miami."

"Is that the truth?" Colin asked.

"Yes," Mister Smith said, being totally honest. "It is the truth."

"Thank you," George said.

"Anytime, Mister Weasley. Good night."

* * *

Max was on his third helping. "God, this boudin is great."

"It is, isn't it?" Benny asked.

"Yes, I'm gonna get some more."

"Let me take the plate for you," Vinny said.

"Alright," Max said. Vinny took it.

"How much do you want?"

"Just one more piece," Max said. Vinny picked one up and set it on his plate.

"There ya go," he said. Max bit into it, relishing the taste. Then his head fell into his empty plate.

Author's Note: Wow, if I get ANY reviews or ANY hits, I will so get down on my knees and praise the Lord. I'm sorry for the EXTREMELY long wait, but I had writer's block and needed to stop in order to get the story straight. I think I do have it straight now, and the story may get a bit darker. It needed to grow up. I now have an idea of the overall plot, a very clear one. I'm very glad I'm back to writing this; I'm not turning it into the Star Trek: Voyager of Rex's fics: in other words, the fic with an excellent idea that turned into junk. No sir. It is my mission to write a good fic, with well-written characters and a good plot.

Again, so sorry this took forever; but the final result is great, I believe. Drop me a line at quidditch_seeker@angelfire.com and do not forget to review! Thank you so much for reading!