A/N: This was honestly something I felt really compelled to write. And if you've seen some of my other works, I think you'd be impressed that this actually my first non ship fic. I started writing this back on New Year's Day (a couple days after I finally watched Arcane) and it began almost immediately after I learned Silco keeps some of JInx's things on his desk.
Word count: 6,199
Just for Display
Taking the girl to The Last Drop set a massive pit in Silco's stomach. But once the sobs and flames settled, there was only one request that came out of her.
"Can I… can I get my stuff?"
Her stuff. Because she had a life before this night. A life before her sister left her, before Vander died and before he lost nearly everyone back there. It was a life that included what Vander strived to maintain. A life that held a certain esteem for the citizens of Zaun. One that considered peacetime and complacency, but above all, love for every single person that walked through its door. Down to the last drop.
Silco scoffed to himself as he adjusted his grip on the girl, shifting his left arm to catch her back and pull her close as his right hand squeezed her head. The gentle comfort his hand embodied as he embraced her—it was something that surprised him. But… it was something he hadn't regretted.
Even with that massive pit, he didn't regret obliging this request either.
And so when he stepped into the closed bar, he carried her as though she were his ambition and strength. She would be his reason for doing this after all. His men lingered near the entrance as he stalked toward the counter. The sight of all the upturned chairs and dark bar unsettled him a bit. It was as if he encroached upon a forbidden ghost town—a boundary not meant for him.
He internally scoffed at his thoughts, turning his head to the girl's ear. "Tell me Child, where's your room?" He felt a shift against his shoulder and his eyes followed, catching her arm's direction pointing toward an open door. He nodded and looked behind him. "Watch the door," he ordered.
His two men nodded, one making himself comfortable by sitting in a booth while the other leaned up against the door frame entrance.
With that, Silco moved toward the door and down the steps. Each creak resounded with a sharp crack of wood straining against their weight. They descended further down the stairs, nearing the door at the bottom. An awkward struggle for the door knob left him having to remove his hand from the girl's head, causing her to nuzzle closer with a whimper. His breath caught at her vulnerable plea. With a quick turn of the knob, he returned his hand to her head, causing her breath to settle ever so slightly.
"It's alright, Child," he whispered, "we're here. And…" he gulped, surprised at his own hesitance, "and I'm here with you."
That seemed to quiet her shivering more, which he took as permission to enter.
Elbowing the door open, he stepped forward, sighing to himself as he realized there was another set of stairs just at the foot of the door. What kind of architect designed this—he could've tripped! He adjusted his grip on the child as he held her tightly, descending once again. The dark room illuminated with seeps of light from the bar upstairs, casting through the floorboards. It exposed small glimpses of a lived in crib—crib, because it was that of a child's abode.
And for the first time that night, the child in his hands stirred from his grasp, as if silently pleading to be released. He obeyed her wordless command and set her down, watching her dart toward a small table in the centre. She turned a dial of some sort, brightening the room with a lamp. And it was in that instant, everything set in for him.
His eyes would eventually notice the scattered cans and scraps of food and junk. He would eventually clean out the rundown couch and rickety chairs. At some point he would trash and scrap the shitty, broken furniture and repair the broken floorboards. But in that instant? The second the room was filled with brightness? His eyes set upon the bunk bed in the corner. Her bed.
She was frozen still, hugging her arms as she shot a downcast look at her resting place. A sniffle escaped and his heart churned at the sound. He stepped toward her, observing her like a stray, a wild animal, or a lost child. Maybe she was all of these things. But all he knew was that an instinct carried himself over to her, and he knelt down beside her. His hand held out to her, palm upward. "We'll go together," he softly told her.
That must've been all she needed to hear as her hand was suddenly in his, embracing their intertwined fingers like a lifeline. He rose up and waited, letting her take the lead. Because in all honesty, this was uncharted waters. He wasn't even sure if she wanted to take the step. It was all so soon. But in spite of it all, she still walked, as her first step cracked another creak of the floorboards. A deep, shaky breath exhaled from her, and then they were walking forward.
She pulled the small little blanket back further, exposing her small bed frame. He felt her squeeze again and drew his eyes to her, noticing more hesitance and timidness in her gaze. Her free hand hugged her stomach as her eyes averted his and darted all over, blinking rapidly. It was then he realized she must've been embarrassed. He was in her room, her bed—it must've started catching up to her, these moments of vulnerability accumulating by the second.
He found it humorous.
So in spite of his better judgement, he chuckled, causing her to freeze. No doubt mistaking his reaction for something of her weakness. He shook his head, kneeling down before he locked eyes with her. "You have a nice home," he nodded at her bed, "many memories, I'm assuming."
She shyly nodded.
He reached out for one of her plushies, a small black owl resting by her headrest, and brought it toward her. "Memories are a gift, Child. They give us warmth, joy," he squeezed her plush gently, "but they also give great pain… suffering."
She was nodding, resonating with his words.
"Embracing them… is true resolve," he softly said, "it's true strength. And you'll be stronger than any one of us, you want to know why?"
She nodded once more.
"Because you're the future. And you're going to outlive these memories," he told her. He held the owl out toward her, smiling, "And you'll be able to embrace it all together."
She grabbed the owl, hugging it close to her chest as she looked up at him. Her eyes stinging with tears as she looked with a wonder that amused him. "Will… Will you help me embrace them?"
He nodded, "Of course." He took another scan of the room, sighing at the obvious memories that haunted the atmosphere. "How 'bout we start now?" he asked as he looked back at her.
She blinked, confusion ridden across her face. "H-How?" she sniffled.
He brought his hand up against her cheek, thumbing away the one tear that streamed. "Let's make something more of this place."
Her eyes widened. "W-Wait… does… does that mean," she looked around, blinking away her tears, "I can stay here?"
He chuckled, caressing her cheek with his thumb before moving his hand behind her head. "We can stay," he corrected.
And for the first time he saw her that night, she smiled.
He anticipated the hug this time, catching her within the instant her arms were wrapped around his back. "And we will do more here. More than they ever did," he whispered to her. "Won't we… Child?"
"Jinx," she sternly said. The seriousness of her tone nearly startled him. "My name's Jinx," she spat out, affirming her correction.
"Then Jinx it is."
…
"And this is a problem, because…" Silco drawled, turning his office chair with disinterest.
Sevika rolled her eyes, crossing her new prosthetic with her arm across her chest. She shifted her weight and explained, "Despite your reservations about Vander, he knew how to pour out a good drink. Wherever you got that trash bag, does not. And that's costing you customers."
He rolled the pen between his fingers. "He's cheap."
She scoffed. "Pours like it too."
"Then would you like to exhaust your oh so extensive knowledge about barkeeping?" he challenged her, narrowing his eyes with suspicion.
"You could never pay me enough for that," she quipped back, shifting her hip once again. "Besides, I'm more comfortable critiquing."
He sighed, squeezing his pen as he massaged his forehead with his other hand. "Then why don't you look into it."
Her brows raised at that. "And you'll clear whoever I hire?"
"If they match your supposed criteria? Then sure," he briskly answered. He looked back at her, expecting her to make her leave, but instead she remained. "What else is there?"
A flash of hesitance graced her face ever so briefly before she irritably sighed. "The… customers complain that a certain someone is harping the mood down there."
"And? Why haven't they been thrown out?"
She frowned at him. "Because—"
The door squeaked open.
Silco groaned, ready to berate whomever had the audacity to intrude but all his anger subsided the second he saw a head of blue stick through the door crack. He sighed under his breath and straightened his back.
Sevika scoffed, muttering toward him, "That's why."
He attempted a smile. "What is it, Jinx?" he softly asked, silently cursing his tenderness in front of his lieutenant.
The woman merely rolled her eyes and stepped aside, letting the girl walk past.
Jinx owlishly blinked at him, squeezing her owl plush between her hands. It was now coloured with purple and green graffiti paint, and looked a tad smaller in her palms as she had grown a bit in the last couple months. "What're you up to?" she innocently asked.
He sighed, louder this time. "I'm doing business."
She walked up to his desk and scrunched her face. "What kinda business?"
"The grown up kind," Sevika grumbled.
Jinx turned and scowled at her. "I can be grown up!"
The woman didn't bother to entertain that with a response as she just rolled her eyes once again.
Silco, however, sought the opportunity in this line of discussion. "Is that why you wander the bar?" he asked her.
Jinx turned around and pouted a bit. "Am I not allowed to?"
He bit back another sigh as he shook his head. "The patrons down there can be dangerous. And I don't want you getting caught up in any of that."
Her pout sunk further. "But… I get my drinks from the bar."
His eyes widened. "What."
She stilled, clearly unnerved by his aggression. "Y-Yeah."
"What kind of drinks?" he icily asked.
"O-Orange juice," she shyly answered.
A relief he didn't know he needed washed over him, causing him to sink back in his chair. "Orange juice," he repeated. He ignored the faint muffled laughter from Sevika as he looked back at Jinx. Her eyes barely met his gaze as she sunk in on her own frame, lowering her head. Her hesitance and fear made him frown. "Then don't wander," he told her, "just go straight to the bar and get your orange juice. Don't bother the customers."
She nodded sadly. "Okay."
"Thank you, Jinx," he softly said.
"Are… Are you mad at me?" she quietly asked.
He shook his head. "No, no, I'm not." He looked to Sevika, then back at her. "I'm… just having business issues." He rolled the pen around once again. "In fact, it involves the very gentleman who pours your orange juice."
She tilted her head as her eyes lit up. "Farlin?"
He nodded. "Yes, Farlin, the bartender." He raised a brow at Jinx, supposing more input was good as any. "How is he, as a bartender to you? Does he… pour your orange juice alright?"
She shrugged. "Sometimes." She scrunched up her face in disappointment. "He spills a lot."
Sevika chuckled. "A lot more than a lot," she chimed in.
Jinx turned back. "And sometimes it tastes funny."
Alarms set off in Silco as he leaned forward. "Funny how?"
"I dunno. Sometimes it's sweeter, other times it's really bitter. Or it burns," Jinx explained, playing with her owl plush absentmindedly. "Farlin says he's making it taste better and that I'll get used to it, 'specially when I'm older, but I always feel weird afterwards."
Silco's eyes widened at each confession. His hand was suddenly coated with a liquid that startled him, causing him to notice he'd cracked his pen and the ink was all over his hand. He was in such disbelief of what he was hearing he looked to Sevika, who even wore a look of disgust and anger of her own.
Jinx must've caught their reactions as she stopped playing with her owl and cocked a brow at him. "Something wrong?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "No… just… business."
She pouted. "Business must be annoying, huh?"
He laughed, nodding at her. "You have no idea." He dug into his front vest pocket and grabbed his handkerchief, cleaning the ink off his hand. When he finished, he realized Jinx was now standing beside him, holding her plush out and up at him. He raised a brow, hoping that was enough to prompt a response.
"Squeezing him makes annoying stuff less annoying for me sometimes," she quietly said. Her smile grew wicked as she leaned in, barely whispering, "I squeeze him a lot."
Siloc grinned, taking the owl out of her hands. "Then I'm sure he works wonders." He gave it a squeeze, surprised to find it somewhat comforting to express his frustrations in one motion. "Thank you, Jinx."
"No problem!" she cheerfully announced, turning away.
"Oh and Jinx?" he called out, just as she passed Sevika. She turned back with a curious look. "Until he's… replaced, don't ask Farlin to pour you anymore orange juice, okay?"
She pouted, slumping her shoulders a bit.
"I'll get someone else to do it for you soon."
She smiled at that, then nodded. "Okay." And then she left.
Sevika wore a smug look, silently shooting her brows at him.
Silco blankly frowned as he turned his chair around, giving the plush another hard squeeze. "See to it that Farlin is replaced immediately."
…
This was getting tiring.
Late nights had somehow become the norm and all nighters were on the rise for his new routine. Silco was getting exhausted. Another fight broke out outside one of his Shimmer factories, and he and Sevika went over to settle things. Returning home, he couldn't help but long for sleep. But he needed to document this incident. It was the wisest thing to do. Sevika remained to keep the peace, and he hoped that was all that would be kept.
A brief laugh escaped him as he ascended the steps to his office. Since when did he consider this place, "home"? Was it because of all the sleepless nights he slumbered here? Or was it because his growing enterprise was based here? No, it might've been the young girl he tucked in on a near regular basis each night, and shared meals with whenever possible. He scoffed at the thought. All he knew was that a headache was waiting for him so early in the morning and he hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet.
A shortness of breath kicked him out from under as he reached the top of the stairs.
And he needed to take his Shimmer… soon.
As he pushed the door open, the scent of a fresh brew was the first thing he noticed. The second, was Jinx, sitting in his chair and spinning around. For a split second, he forgot all about his stressful morning and exhaustive nights from merely sight of the twirling tween. She must've been so wrapped up in her self-entertainment she hadn't heard him enter. He shut the doors quietly and walked over to the desk, noticing in the centre, one of her old contraptions.
It was a monkey, or rather, a monkey-like design. Now? It was fashioned into a short mug, filled with the caffeine his nostrils had been blessed to smell. He wasn't sure if he was in a place to scold her about being too young to drink coffee, but he supposed it was better than her constantly asking to try more alcohol (Farlin paid for that, severely).
"Is this seat taken?" he amusedly inquired, making his way around his desk.
The office chair stopped as she grabbed the desk, her eyes wide with joy. "Yaaay! You're back!" She pumped her hands to the sky.
He smiled. "I am. What are you doing up so early?"
"I could be askin' you the same thing!" she quipped. He opened his mouth to answer but she cut him, holding her palm up. "I know, I know," she flapped her hand like a puppet as she mockingly said, "'Just business issues.'"
He chuckled. "So then what's your excuse?" He raised a brow.
She grinned, leaning toward his desk to grab the steaming cup of coffee. "I made this for you!" she answered, holding it out to him.
"For… me?" he blinked, picking the mug up out of her hands.
"Yuuuup!" she rapidly nodded. "You keep missing dinner and breakfast! Sevika told me 'bout all your late nights and all nighters so I thought you could use a pick me up!"
He swirled the cup around, watching the brown liquid stir as he smiled.
"It's not bad," she pouted. "I poured some myself and tried it!"
His brows raised as he chuckled once again. "It's not that," he shook his head. Lifting the mug to his lips, he took a sip and savoured the caffeine coursing into his system. It was sweet. Just what he needed this morning. "Thank you, Jinx."
She held her arms out expectantly as she grinned.
He smirked, turning himself around before sitting down. He scooted himself into his chair, forcing her out. She giggled as she hopped off and onto his desk, sitting cross legged right in the centre. "This is your mug, is it not?" he asked, inspecting his drink after taking another sip.
She impishly shrugged. "Why's that matter?"
"I thought you made this?"
She waved her hand. "I can make more!" Her eyes glimmered as she scooted closer to the edge of the desk. "That includes coffee too!"
"But I thought…" he pondered the name for a second, "Mouser was a special… device? You worked hard on her, no?"
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "There's always more where that came from!" she excitedly exclaimed, pointing at her head with glee. "Besides, that one was a botched job anyhow—she could hold liquids pretty well though!"
He chuckled, enjoying himself another sip as she swayed in her seat. He always found himself enthralled with how Jinx told stories. Or simply just how she spoke in general. Far from the shy, timid personality from before: she was excitable. There was an earnest innocence to her cadence and speech. It humoured him just as much as it humoured her to tell him about her day. But sometimes, it could be too sporadic or—
"I figured: might as well make something out of nothing!" she explained. Her eyes lit up with wonder as she pointed at him. "Like you did with me!"
Blunt. Harsh.
He frowned, sparing a free hand as he pushed her finger down. "I didn't find nothing, Jinx," he corrected her, meeting her eyes, "I found you." He squeezed her hand gently as he shook the mug in his other. "And this is barely the surface of what you can make, I'm sure of it."
She smiled at him. "But… would you like to take my 'nothings' whenever I have any?"
He laughed, taking another sip before smiling back at her. "My child, I sincerely doubt anything you give me will be considered nothing."
…
Silco gave his owl plush a hard squeeze as he sighed, looking through the reports. Somehow a fight between two Shimmered up addicts levelled an entire market, and people wanted compensation. Compensation he was capable of providing of course, but profiting from such a play was the issue. He scoffed at the idea. A "business issue" he supposed. And as always, such issues were headaches and exhaustive. The thought of such terms and busywork made him periodically check on his door. An expectant gaze here and there, for a crack or peek and then a small head of blue hair.
But nothing.
Ever since Jinx found that little hideout of hers, she'd been throwing herself into her work as much as he did his. A touch of pride washed over him at her dedication. Yet, part of him wished to visit Jinx's workshop—she'd been so busy in her gadgety the past few weeks he'd missed her coming to bother him during work. But another part of Silco knew, if he just waited…
He leaned back in his chair and cast his eyes to the ceiling, eyes widening at the sight above. There were doodles. All alongside the beams and supports. A collection of crudely drawn monkeys and skulls, coloured with light purple and green spray paint. Jinx's handiwork. A strange sensation churned up inside him as he scanned the roof above. It was like seeing a gallery within the blink of an eye, a blur of graffiti plastered all over the rafters. A gasp of awe escaped him as he leaned further back, turning his head to stare at each and every drawing possible.
It never occurred to Silco, but… as his eyes cast back down at his half filled mug of coffee, and the plush in his palm—the explosion of colour was never something he commented on. It was bright, absurdly out of place from the decor and yet? He hadn't hazarded any complaints about it. Even the ones above were barely noticeable to the eye unless one was purposefully looking to the ceiling like him. It made him wonder, could such discretion be…
"Boss?"
He nearly jumped in his seat, straightening his head. His eyes shot toward the door, where Sevika had been standing. He narrowed his brows as he rested his cheek on his fist that held the owl. "What is it?"
She shot him a skeptical look, observing him as though she had sensed something amiss. "Was I interrupting something?"
"What is it, Sevika?" he repeated.
She dropped her raised brow and shrugged, seemingly dropping the subject. "New shipment just came in. Driver wants a word with you before heading out."
He gave the plush one more squeeze. "I'll be there in a moment."
Later that night, as he sat at the head of their dinner table, he watched Jinx eat next to him. She playfully poked and prodded at her meal—takeout from Jerico's—with a wide smile on her face. As she munched, she bobbed her head along, humming to herself all the while. He had half a mind to chide about her manners, but he remembered there wasn't much of those anywhere down in the Undercity. A stain of slop streamed down her chin and he was nearly tempted to grab his napkin and wipe it off, but he didn't dare to disrupt her seemingly unending joy.
No, he found himself fascinated. How could she make eating seem so exciting and fun? How could she do that with just about anything?
"You're not eating?"
He blinked out of his thoughts and caught her concerned gaze. "What did you say?"
"The food," she lifted her handful, "You're not eating?"
He turned to his plate, which went untouched, and smiled. "Right. Of course," he muttered. Stabbing a piece with his fork, he brought it to his lips for a bite.
"What's up?" she tilted her head. "More 'business issues'?" she asked with a pouty lip.
He smirked, chewing on his food. "You could say that."
Her lips morphed into a more manic grin as she turned to her messenger bag hooked on her chair. She pulled out a small Whisker-looking device and shook it. "Man, I wish I could blow up your business issues!" she shouted, cackling quietly afterward.
He chuckled. "In time, I'm sure you will," he replied.
Her eyes lit up at that. "Wait, really?"
He nodded, chuckling again. "In time," he echoed.
Her disappointment still wasn't diminished.
He took comfort in that. Lately, it looked as though she couldn't be as easily deterred from supposed promises or "soon enoughs". She took them as how he meant it: assured and for another time. He was glad for that. Glad she was able to find things to look forward to, to enjoy, on a more consistent basis. However, that line of thinking led him to the topic he wanted to discuss, "I noticed something… interesting today."
She paused mid slurp, leaving the tentacle in her mouth to hang. She cocked her head and blinked, "Hmm?"
He shot a half smile at her antics. "In my office," he elaborated further, gauging her reaction. She seemed genuinely curious, so she obviously still had no idea what he was talking about. "Up in the rafters?" he added again.
Her eyes widened as slurped the whole tentacle, gulping nervously. "Uhhh I—"
"You're not in trouble," he immediately assured her.
Usually she'd have instant relief at that phrase, but she still looked hesitant. "I-I know you say I'm not supposed t-to listen on your business stuff, an-and I—" she stopped herself, anxiously bringing her braid forward to play with, despite her dirty hands. "Are you mad?"
He laughed. "It was about time you started getting into the family business, I suppose," he teased, earning a reluctant smile from her. "Come now, child, I've already said you're not in trouble."
She pouted. "But that's not the same as not being mad," she mumbled.
He sighed. "I'm…" he thought on his true feelings, and decided to be up front about it, "a little upset to know you've been playing up there all this time. But not because you may have been eavesdropping." He looked at her worriedly. "But because you could've gotten hurt. Can imagine the amount of shock you'd give me if you suddenly fell from the roof one day and right onto my desk?" he amusedly asked.
She scoffed, disbelief all over her face. "But my hideout is in a waaaaay more dangerous place and you're okay with me going there!"
"Fair enough," he relented, nodding his head. "In any case, I've already admitted I'm not going to lecture you, so that's besides the point."
"It is if you're mad…" she grumbled, poking another fish with her finger as she slumped her cheek onto her other palm.
He rolled his eyes. She really did fixate on the most personable details, didn't she? This wasn't at all where he wanted to take this conversation regardless. He sighed. "Would you just let me compliment your artwork, already?" he asked, somewhat exasperatedly.
Her eyes widened at that. She lifted her head up from her sulking as she stared at him with shock. "Wait… really? You like them?"
He scoffed, shaking his head amusedly. "I think you'd hear about it if I had any reservations about your artwork, my dear girl."
A faint blush reached her cheeks as she smiled down at her food.
"I was going to say," he went on, "I quite enjoyed the idea of having some semblance of your work nearby me. It's… comforting." He stabbed at his fish and took a bite. "And as I said, it's opened my eyes to the line of thinking that it may be time for you to start sitting in on some meetings."
She shot her head up again, jaw dropped. "For real?" At his nod she slammed her hands onto the table and stood up. "You're okay with me being in the room?"
"I'd rather have you hiding up in the rafters, than not in the room at all," he remarked.
"Yes!" she pumped her fist. "You said it! No take backs!" she quickly barked out with a manic smile.
"Of course, by all means," he sardonically compiled, shrugging. As she sunk back into her seat, eating her meal more joyfully than before, he decided to take his shot. "Any chance you'll tell me how you got up there?"
She impishly smirked. "Nooooope!"
…
"And is there nothing else to report?" Silco inquired, tiredly lifting his head up from his palm.
Sevika stood firm and tall, with a look of irritation plastered across her face. Yet, nothing came out. Her eyes were narrowed but throughout her briefing, occasionally drifted away from him and off to his right. He already knew what her main concern was. To his right, sat Jinx. Perched on the edge of his desk, cross legged, with a set of paint brushes and cans all around her. She was animatedly painting his ashtray, humming to herself all the while as she swayed in place.
"No, boss," she replied flatly, eyes ahead.
He made a move to turn his chair around, ready to consult his new documents, but noticed she remained unmoved. He turned his head back and raised a brow. "Do you… have something you'd like to discuss?"
She spared the briefest of glances toward Jinx, before looking back at him. "Not with present company, no."
He frowned at the comment as Jinx noticeably deflated a bit, humming now gone as her swaying came to a halt. "Surely, we're all mature enough to speak freely, yes?" he inquired, throwing the woman a look that dared her to speak her mind.
With that, Sevika simply took a small breath, closing her eyes. And then she spoke. "People are complaining about her being in the room with you," she flatly announced.
Jinx's head lifted at that, eyes widened.
Silco narrowed his eyes. "What… people?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Basically anyone who walks into this office," she replied. "They say she's distracting. Some say it's 'cause she derails conversations and acts childish. Others… well, they have a different take on why she's distracting," she looked to the side, "but I don't think you want to know about those…"
He gritted his teeth at that. What kind of disgusting—he quickly took a breath. "And are you one of those people?" he challenged, lifting a brow. "The ones that are complaining?"
Jinx had put down his ashtray, now hugging her arms uncomfortably as she looked between him and Sevika. "Silco, it's fine," she softly muttered to him, "you don't need to—"
"No, no," he shook his head, holding his palm out to Sevika, "she's free to be honest. I'm simply curious."
"Well, can she take honesty?" Sevika flatly asked, nodding at Jinx.
She wilted at that, pushing her cans and brushes aside as she looked back to Sevika. "It's fine," she quietly said to the woman. She hopped off the desk and began gathering her things. "I was done anyways," she muttered, stuffing it all into her messenger bag. She turned back to him and shot a small smile, "I'll see ya later?"
He nodded, smiling back at her before she left the room.
And then the door shut.
The room was now clear but the atmosphere wasn't. Silco released a frustrated sigh, reaching for his plush and giving it a hard squeeze before tossing it back onto his desk. He glanced up at Sevika, who stood straight and unbothered. He scoffed, gesturing toward her. "Well? The floor's yours," he mused.
The woman merely blinked uninterestedly. "I think you can play daddy-daughter after work," she said as she pulled out a cigar and tucked it between her teeth. She pulled out her lighter, and ignited her cigar, puffing out a small smoke as she approached his desk. "Makes you look weak in front of the crew."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "And here I thought it was making them babysit for her Jerico runs."
She scoffed. "You know it's all those things, right?"
"Do you take me for a fool?" he blankly asked. "I'm well aware of how this looks. But I figured the maturity and respect of my men would root deep enough that a child longing for attention and entertainment wouldn't disrupt my enterprise."
"Well, she's doing all the disrupting for you."
"And it appears she's rubbing off on you," he mused, "I didn't expect this conversation to feature snide remarks."
She frowned. "At least appreciate the fact I went straight with you after she stepped out of the room," she shot back, blowing out another puff.
He rolled his eyes, sinking into his chair. A creak echoed and it made him smirk, he knew that sound well by now—but that wasn't important. He looked at Sevika, amused. "Yet you still dance around your true feelings," he accused her. "Go on," he waved at her, "air out what you really want to say."
Sevika sighed. "Are you serious about letting her in on this?" she asked, gesturing around them. "It's not like I don't think kids can pull their shit together—we're from Zaun, we had to pull our weight to survive—but she isn't like most sump rats. She'll be a burden for us out there. She's a liability. She's a—"
"Jinx?" he offered, raising a brow.
She averted her eyes, pulling the cigar out as she blew out another sigh.
"That's her name," he affirmed, chuckling. "Did I ever tell you that's what she wanted me to call her? Imagine, a child asserting their name like that. Piltover, Zaun, it doesn't matter," he shook his head, "names have meaning. Renowned promise, like the Houses in Topside, or the Hound that built the very Lanes we run. It's all just… show. A display. A display of who you are and where you come from.
"I know talk and gossip too. I know what they call you out there," he narrowed his eyes, "ever since word about that night got out. Ever since you got seen by my right hand." She scowled as her left fist clenched. "They label you a traitor, a turncoat, disloyal." He scoffed. "But you take those in stride and stand before me, lecturing me about running this business."
"You done with the scenic route?" she asked dryly, "or are you gonna get to the point already?"
He frowned. "She's as you and everyone else says, a child," he explained, "but like you said, she'll grow. Until then, whatever you or anyone else calls her doesn't matter. Because she's here to stay and if anything…" he looked at his desk, smiling at the sight of all the things she had painted and given to him, "she'll live longer than you or I. And she will be a name worth remembering."
Sevika rolled her eyes, chuckling. "All that just to say some sentimental crap, huh?"
"I believe you started it that way," he quipped back. At her confusion, he smirked. "'Daddy-daughter' is what you referred to it as, no?" he clarified, earning an annoyed puff of smoke from her. "Well, I believe it'd be quite beneficial to have the family business proceeding after me." He leaned his elbow on his chair's armrest and smiled. "Do remember that the next time someone has a complaint about Jinx," then the next set of words just flowed, "My daughter," he affirmed.
She sighed, blowing a small smoke before giving a slight nod. "Understood," she muttered, leaning forward with her cigar in hand. Just as she hovered over his ashtray, his hand darted forward, pulling it away. She quirked a brow but he merely deadpanned, choosing to let his silence speak for him. She shook her head, sighing once more as she returned the cigar to her lips and turned around, making her leave.
As soon as the door shut, he leaned back in his seat and released a tired sigh, closing his eyes.
"Daughter, huh?"
He chuckled, opening his eyes as he looked up toward the ceiling.
Up in the rafters, there she sat, smiling down at him shyly. Her look spoke volumes of what she was trying to say. There was apprehension and fear. There was gratitude and guilt. There was so much but the smile was still there. She merely swayed her legs and grinned at him, expectantly waiting for his response.
He winked, smiling back at her. "It's just a label." He wouldn't make it mean something unless she did. All the cards in her hands. But part of him already knew the answer. He knew it enough to have the equation laid out all over his desk. He knew enough of the formula because it was plastered all over his rafters. He knew because he dined with it, and tucked it in at night.
"Oh yeah totally," she sarcastically quipped, waving her hand dismissively. "Just for display, right, Pops?" she teased, winking back.
He laughed, nodding at her.
He already knew.
And so did she.
A/N: This dynamic was honestly something I adored. Not for the reasons of Silco being a great dad or good person, but because the idea lending itself to a man who had been wronged before seeking to do right by a kid who had a shitty similar hand dealt to them. At the end of the day, I just wanted to explore how a man like Silco still let his heart get warmed by a girl like Jinx. Jinx herself was interesting to write. As I wanted to hold true to the idea that Silco wasn't the one who "made" Jinx but also wanted to keep her relatively young. In that vein she wouldn't be TOO crazy but also still shy enough to be very personable with Silco.
That's sort of my little insight to how I went about writing this.
If you're new to my work—which I'm wagering most of you are—I have a new project coming up for the The Owl House fandom. I have to do more shameless self-promotion, sorry. If you wanna know more about it, check out my tumblr: blehblarghblah. The first chapter of this long running series comes out this Wednesday, January 19th! So if you're into TOH make sure to stick around to check it out!
That's about all I got to say for now. Thanks for giving my fic a read and lemme know what you think!
Until next time,
- Bleh