A/N: Sorry this took a while. This is my first fanfic, so review please. Be
constructive. If you really hate it, don't keep reading.
Chapter Two
By the time John Bosely entered the office of Charles Townsend Private Investigations, Morgana was no more than a shadow against the wall. Humming absently, he flipped on a few lights and went to the desk. He kept humming, slowing down accordingly as he rifled through the papers on his desk. "Man, Jimmy left this in a mess," he said aloud to himself.
Morgana rolled her neck from one side to the other, resulting in three rather loud subsequent cracks. She pulled a cigarette from a silver case, then pulled out a matching silver lighter and held it to the cigarette's tip. The smell of lit tobacco filled the room immediately, and a silvery cloud of smoke surrounded her head. Bosely looked up to find the imposing, dark figure pacing back and forth at the head of the office.
He cleared his throat, "Miss? Is there something I can help you with?" "All in good time," she said, never stopping to look at him. She had a unique, wavering cadence that was liquid but choppy at the same time. She was still puffing greedily on the cigarette, breathing in the fumes vehemently. "Would you sit down?" Bosley asked. "I would rather not, thanks," she replied somewhat sardonically.
Seeming somewhat wounded, Bosely thought for something else to say. "Could you not do that?" he asked. She stopped and raised a cynical eyebrow, then threw her half-finished cigarette onto the Persian rug and drove it in with her toe. Bosely winced. She smirked and began pacing again, messing with her fingers since she had nothing to occupy her.
"Do you have a name?" he asked, somewhat annoyed. She nodded dryly. "I see no point in repeating it four times," she drawled. He shrugged, and she leaned back into the shadows as Alex Munday came in.
"Morning, Bos," she said brightly, then caught sight of Morgana, "Who's that?" "Don't mind me," chimed Morgana irately. "I don't actually know," he admitted, "She was in here when I got here." Alex shrugged and sat down.
The sounds of laughter echoed through the lobby as Dylan and Natalie came in. "Hey Bosley, hey Alex," they said, almost in unison. Dylan looked thoughtfully at Morgana as she walked past. "Do I know you?" she questioned quietly. Morgana smirked. "You'd be surprised," she nearly mouthed.
"So who are you?" Natalie asked as Morgana stepped into the foreground. The three girls were sitting on the sofa and Bosely leaned back against the desk. The out of place guest leaned leisurely against the fireplace. "Some call me the Raven," she listed without emotion, "Some call me the Voice of Darkness. My name is Morgana." "Morgana...?" Alex pressed. "Morgana," the woman finalized. "Why are you here, though?" Dylan asked.
Morgana narrowed her eyes at the redhead. She knew that hair, knew its scent and texture all too well. "I want to know," she said quietly, "Where my brother is."
Natalie jumped at the chance to play secretary. "Well, then you should contact Charlie directly," she explained like she was talking to a child, "He could work you in to our schedule, and then--"
But Morgana was looking murderous. "Look," she seethed, "I'm not trying to give you all another chance to play James Bond. What I want are some answers. And I know one of you can give them to me." "How do you know?" asked Alex. "My brother is dead," her voice wavered even more than normal, "And you are responsible."
A horrid thought flashed across Dylan's mind. "O'Grady..." she whispered. Morgana nearly snorted. "O'Grady?" she chortled, "Do I look Irish to you? I am full-blood Romanian, thank you." "But, what do we have to do with your brother?" Natalie asked.
Morgana's blood surged. "My brother died fighting with you. He died protecting you." "Which one of us?" urged Dylan. "You, Miss Sanders," cooed Morgana. Her tone had suddenly changed, and she was smirking strangely. Dylan looked at her blankly. "Oh, surely you remember," her tone became vindictive again gradually, "Since he basically died in your arms. Yes, you know it. He protected you. He kissed you. He loved you. And you. Let. Him. Die."
It suddenly dawned on her. "Oh, my God..." she gasped, "The Voice of Darkness..." "Because I spoke for one who wouldn't speak." Morgana finished. The other three looked at them blankly. "Could you please explain what's going on?" Bosely asked shortly. "My brother and I were assassins," Morgana explained with a note of pride, "We sold our confidence to the highest bidder, and swore we would never find love in any but each other. And then...Charles Townsend came along."
The phone rang, and Bosely jumped. He pressed a button on the speakerphone. "Good-morning, angels," Charlie called cheerfully. "Good morning, Charlie," they said dully and out of synch. "Glad you could join us," added Morgana darkly. "Morgana, is that you?" he asked, "How long have you been there?" "Since about eight," she said, "And I'm sick of waiting." "Alright, alright, but let me explain to the girls first," Charlie drew a deep breath and said, "Angels, Morgana will be working with us on our next assignment." Natalie groaned. "Don't think I like it any more than you," Morgana growled. "Why did you take the job then?" Natalie snapped. "Because Charlie's paying with something no one else can." Natalie looked confused. "He knows about my brother's death."
"Morgana's brother, Anthony was working for me during the Madison Lee case," Charlie told them, "She was as well, although you didn't see her as much as you saw him." "You're brother's the Thin Man," Alex realized. Morgana nodded. "Where's the body, Charlie?" she asked forcefully, facing the speakerbox, "What did you do to my brother's body?" "I told you, I haven't done anything with your brother, Morgana." She scoffed.
"Aside from Morgana, we will also be having other assistance," continued Charlie. "Great," she snarled involuntarily, "Another one of these damned Angels." "No, Morgana," said Charlie patiently, "In fact, I believe it is someone you've worked with before." "I've never worked with anyone." "Turn around, Morgana." "Why?" "Turn around."
Morgana obeyed slowly. She didn't like being ordered around, especially not by a phone. Her brother had always been the patient one, surprisingly the negotiator. And unless she was horribly wrong, he was standing in the doorway to the office.
Her lower lip dropped an inch. Her breath came in quiet gasps. "It can't be," she whispered. The angels twisted in their seats. The Thin Man, looking healthy as ever, was walking slowly in Morgana's direction. She walked to him as well, as if worried he might fade away if she approached too swiftly.
She put her hand on his face, and he held her forearm. "Is it you?" she asked in barely a whisper. He nodded and gave her a rare, warm smile. Nearly sobbing, she threw her arms around him. He cradled her head against his chest, and she strained to hear his heartbeat. He rested his chin in her hair. It had been nearly three months she he had held her, since he had smelled the dark, mysterious perfume on her hair. "Morgana," he whispered, "My Morgana."
She looked up at him adoringly, touching his cheek one last time before she moved away. "Charlie," she gasped, "Why didn't you tell me?" "Your brother insisted I keep it a secret," Charlie said, sounding almost apologetic.
Morgana made her way to a chair and sat down. She looked at Dylan, glowing, and nodded. The redhead stood slowly and walked over to the tall, pale figure. He opened his arms to her and she clung to him almost as desperately as Morgana just had. "That night," he said into her ear, "I was trying to tell you that I love you." "And I love you," she confessed, "I haven't thought about anything else." He smiled apologetically and stroked cradled the right side of her face with one hand. He kissed her quickly, smiled again, and they went to sit down, him taking the chair beside Morgana.
"Well," said Charlie, "Now that we've worked everything out, we can get down to business."
"Wait," said Natalie desperately, "I still don't understand what's going on!"
Everyone, even Charlie, laughed.
Chapter Two
By the time John Bosely entered the office of Charles Townsend Private Investigations, Morgana was no more than a shadow against the wall. Humming absently, he flipped on a few lights and went to the desk. He kept humming, slowing down accordingly as he rifled through the papers on his desk. "Man, Jimmy left this in a mess," he said aloud to himself.
Morgana rolled her neck from one side to the other, resulting in three rather loud subsequent cracks. She pulled a cigarette from a silver case, then pulled out a matching silver lighter and held it to the cigarette's tip. The smell of lit tobacco filled the room immediately, and a silvery cloud of smoke surrounded her head. Bosely looked up to find the imposing, dark figure pacing back and forth at the head of the office.
He cleared his throat, "Miss? Is there something I can help you with?" "All in good time," she said, never stopping to look at him. She had a unique, wavering cadence that was liquid but choppy at the same time. She was still puffing greedily on the cigarette, breathing in the fumes vehemently. "Would you sit down?" Bosley asked. "I would rather not, thanks," she replied somewhat sardonically.
Seeming somewhat wounded, Bosely thought for something else to say. "Could you not do that?" he asked. She stopped and raised a cynical eyebrow, then threw her half-finished cigarette onto the Persian rug and drove it in with her toe. Bosely winced. She smirked and began pacing again, messing with her fingers since she had nothing to occupy her.
"Do you have a name?" he asked, somewhat annoyed. She nodded dryly. "I see no point in repeating it four times," she drawled. He shrugged, and she leaned back into the shadows as Alex Munday came in.
"Morning, Bos," she said brightly, then caught sight of Morgana, "Who's that?" "Don't mind me," chimed Morgana irately. "I don't actually know," he admitted, "She was in here when I got here." Alex shrugged and sat down.
The sounds of laughter echoed through the lobby as Dylan and Natalie came in. "Hey Bosley, hey Alex," they said, almost in unison. Dylan looked thoughtfully at Morgana as she walked past. "Do I know you?" she questioned quietly. Morgana smirked. "You'd be surprised," she nearly mouthed.
"So who are you?" Natalie asked as Morgana stepped into the foreground. The three girls were sitting on the sofa and Bosely leaned back against the desk. The out of place guest leaned leisurely against the fireplace. "Some call me the Raven," she listed without emotion, "Some call me the Voice of Darkness. My name is Morgana." "Morgana...?" Alex pressed. "Morgana," the woman finalized. "Why are you here, though?" Dylan asked.
Morgana narrowed her eyes at the redhead. She knew that hair, knew its scent and texture all too well. "I want to know," she said quietly, "Where my brother is."
Natalie jumped at the chance to play secretary. "Well, then you should contact Charlie directly," she explained like she was talking to a child, "He could work you in to our schedule, and then--"
But Morgana was looking murderous. "Look," she seethed, "I'm not trying to give you all another chance to play James Bond. What I want are some answers. And I know one of you can give them to me." "How do you know?" asked Alex. "My brother is dead," her voice wavered even more than normal, "And you are responsible."
A horrid thought flashed across Dylan's mind. "O'Grady..." she whispered. Morgana nearly snorted. "O'Grady?" she chortled, "Do I look Irish to you? I am full-blood Romanian, thank you." "But, what do we have to do with your brother?" Natalie asked.
Morgana's blood surged. "My brother died fighting with you. He died protecting you." "Which one of us?" urged Dylan. "You, Miss Sanders," cooed Morgana. Her tone had suddenly changed, and she was smirking strangely. Dylan looked at her blankly. "Oh, surely you remember," her tone became vindictive again gradually, "Since he basically died in your arms. Yes, you know it. He protected you. He kissed you. He loved you. And you. Let. Him. Die."
It suddenly dawned on her. "Oh, my God..." she gasped, "The Voice of Darkness..." "Because I spoke for one who wouldn't speak." Morgana finished. The other three looked at them blankly. "Could you please explain what's going on?" Bosely asked shortly. "My brother and I were assassins," Morgana explained with a note of pride, "We sold our confidence to the highest bidder, and swore we would never find love in any but each other. And then...Charles Townsend came along."
The phone rang, and Bosely jumped. He pressed a button on the speakerphone. "Good-morning, angels," Charlie called cheerfully. "Good morning, Charlie," they said dully and out of synch. "Glad you could join us," added Morgana darkly. "Morgana, is that you?" he asked, "How long have you been there?" "Since about eight," she said, "And I'm sick of waiting." "Alright, alright, but let me explain to the girls first," Charlie drew a deep breath and said, "Angels, Morgana will be working with us on our next assignment." Natalie groaned. "Don't think I like it any more than you," Morgana growled. "Why did you take the job then?" Natalie snapped. "Because Charlie's paying with something no one else can." Natalie looked confused. "He knows about my brother's death."
"Morgana's brother, Anthony was working for me during the Madison Lee case," Charlie told them, "She was as well, although you didn't see her as much as you saw him." "You're brother's the Thin Man," Alex realized. Morgana nodded. "Where's the body, Charlie?" she asked forcefully, facing the speakerbox, "What did you do to my brother's body?" "I told you, I haven't done anything with your brother, Morgana." She scoffed.
"Aside from Morgana, we will also be having other assistance," continued Charlie. "Great," she snarled involuntarily, "Another one of these damned Angels." "No, Morgana," said Charlie patiently, "In fact, I believe it is someone you've worked with before." "I've never worked with anyone." "Turn around, Morgana." "Why?" "Turn around."
Morgana obeyed slowly. She didn't like being ordered around, especially not by a phone. Her brother had always been the patient one, surprisingly the negotiator. And unless she was horribly wrong, he was standing in the doorway to the office.
Her lower lip dropped an inch. Her breath came in quiet gasps. "It can't be," she whispered. The angels twisted in their seats. The Thin Man, looking healthy as ever, was walking slowly in Morgana's direction. She walked to him as well, as if worried he might fade away if she approached too swiftly.
She put her hand on his face, and he held her forearm. "Is it you?" she asked in barely a whisper. He nodded and gave her a rare, warm smile. Nearly sobbing, she threw her arms around him. He cradled her head against his chest, and she strained to hear his heartbeat. He rested his chin in her hair. It had been nearly three months she he had held her, since he had smelled the dark, mysterious perfume on her hair. "Morgana," he whispered, "My Morgana."
She looked up at him adoringly, touching his cheek one last time before she moved away. "Charlie," she gasped, "Why didn't you tell me?" "Your brother insisted I keep it a secret," Charlie said, sounding almost apologetic.
Morgana made her way to a chair and sat down. She looked at Dylan, glowing, and nodded. The redhead stood slowly and walked over to the tall, pale figure. He opened his arms to her and she clung to him almost as desperately as Morgana just had. "That night," he said into her ear, "I was trying to tell you that I love you." "And I love you," she confessed, "I haven't thought about anything else." He smiled apologetically and stroked cradled the right side of her face with one hand. He kissed her quickly, smiled again, and they went to sit down, him taking the chair beside Morgana.
"Well," said Charlie, "Now that we've worked everything out, we can get down to business."
"Wait," said Natalie desperately, "I still don't understand what's going on!"
Everyone, even Charlie, laughed.