How do I get myself into this shit?

Braska called me about an hour ago with his panties in a bunch.  He was going on about Yuna again, and I finally decided that shleping over to his place and skimming some lunch was better than having the phone permanently embedded into my ear.  I pulled on a shirt and leather jacket, grabbed my keys, and headed for SoHo.

So now, I'm sitting on this ratty couch, drinking a Tab and eating a ham sandwich, while I listen to the same old line of shit.  You'd think the missionary would figure it out.  Oh well.  The girl IS his daughter.  I suppose he just can't let go of the idea that she'll be a virgin till she's eighty.

I've heard all this crap so much I can spout it verbatim.  Admittedly, the man does have a few points.  Yuna IS pretty young -- she's also attractive.  If she weren't jailbait, I might actually have to check her out.  She's that much of a looker.  Her ass isn't as tight as her cousin Rikku's, but her half-breed looks and dual color eyes really give her a bit of mystery that a lot of men at 54 find intriguing.  Then there's the fact that she's innocent as shit.  The girl's been raised in the backwater.  Braska carted her around with him to the far reaches of fuck nowhere, preaching the gospel and working with organizations like the Red Cross and Peace Corps.  Chick doesn't have a fucking clue how bad it can be out there.  For her it's all a game.  New York is fun and exciting – something she's never experienced in her short seventeen years on the planet.  The freedom seems to be going to her head.

When Rikku got her a gig working at 54 as a dancer in the reviews I thought Braska would implode.  He'd done everything that his passive and idealistic personality could think of to dissuade her from spending time in the "den of iniquity."  I could have told him that hours of Jesus lectures weren't gonna fuckin work, but he didn't ask for my advice.  She'd been my kid and I'd have just kicked her ass and let her sulk.  Instead, they fight constantly and the girl spends most of her time slamming the door to her room in her fathers face and shouting "Jesus Dad!  I'm just making some money!  It's not like I take any of the drugs or turn tricks or something!"

And she doesn't.  That's the wild part.  The girl honestly doesn't.  I know.  I keep an eye on her just like I do the fuck-up of an excuse for a boy Tidus.  I've had to muscle a few older SOB's, or imply that she was my bitch to keep some dick from pawing her, but for the most part, the girl stays clean.  I don't think she's even had a cig!

So, about once every two weeks, I get "the phone call" -- Braska in a panic over Yuna's immortal soul and for some reason, known only to the preacher and God, calling ME to hear him confess.  When the hell did I become the resurrection?

It's warm in here.  Wonder if the man's got a beer?  What the fresh hell am I smoking?!  Braska and alcohol…RIGHT.  Might as well ask for a joint Auron. That he might actually have...

Oh.  Well.  Now this is kinda new. 

Shit!  Braska's gotten posted again!

"What do you mean she's not going?"

Now I'm really fuckin' worried.  No wonder Braska is so upset.  Seems he's supposed to go to some little backwater shithole in Africa for the next three years and Yuna is having none of it.  She says she's staying in New York.  Took off out of the apartment this morning after getting the news, running on no sleep after a shift at 54 last night.  The preacher hasn't seen her since.

"Braska, calm down.  At worst, I know where she'll be tonight and I can catch up with her there.

Now the man wants to go to the club!  Oh, that's not gonna fly.  First of all, Rubell would take one look at the man and say, "Go home and change" or "You've got to be kidding!"  The guy is harsh.  If he doesn't like you, you don't get in his club.  And that bouncer Kimahri will set a man on his ass.  Rubell fucking told CHER to take a hike!  CHER!  And, if I want to keep in his good graces, I'm not gonna push my luck by trying to get him to let Braska in the joint.  I also like to keep the preacher in the dark about the seamier side of my "other life."  Having him see me in my element is NOT something I ever want to happen. 

Damn.  Looks like it's time for old "uncle Auron" to step in and take control. 

"Look.  Let me handle this.  No offence man, but you have fucked this up by the numbers with her.  I haven't said anything to you about it up to now cause I figure I don't have kids and it's your call.  But this is too much.  I have to deal with rough people all the time.  I know what the real world is like, Braska.  And, though I love ya for it, your idealism and "love thy neighbor" bullshit just doesn't cut it on the street.  That girl will be defenseless out there.  YOU let ME talk with her.  I'll sort it out.  Guarantee you, she'll be home tomorrow morning."

Now I'm getting the "how can I ever thank you" and "you really shouldn't swear so much" shit.  Man, I really must love this guy.  I suppose when someone saves your life it bonds you in a way you just don't understand.

"I gotta get going.  I've got a drop to make and my handler wants an update.  Then, I need to get ready to go out.  I'll see you in the morning."