Ruse: Etoile: Chapter 2
Jan. 30th, 2015 11:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amichanNow we're on the trans-Atlantic haul; playing poker on the seat back video game only goes so far. We both sleep for a little while; then I amuse myself flirting with the cabin crew who have little to do when most everyone is asleep.
“This is why it's hard for me to believe you're taking things seriously,” Mercy says, opening her eyes when I come back with two free alcoholic beverages and a wink from the flight attendant.
“We're not on the clock yet.”
She rolls her eyes at me, from the window seat, “You remember: be professional.”
I give her a sideways look, sipping on the drink, “This was fine not five hours ago.”
She tries to take it from me but I'm too fast—barely spill though—have to work on that, “Now it needs to be out of your system. We had our fun.”
She tries for the drink again. I relent when she glares at me and put the drink down on her tray.
“Now,” she says, “Talk to me about how you plan to pick up the gift.”
I must smirk.
“There's no guarantee he goes your way-- you know what they say about Europeans,” there's at least some humor in that statement.
I shake my head.
“So, your game works on horny school kids and stewards but this is another of our profession. I imagine he knows all about that game. He might even run that himself.” She puts her finger up to stop me talking while she takes a long deliberate swig from the drink that was mine, “not to mention if you do anything, one THING, to jeopardize things between Capulet and Montague then not even your pretty eyes will save your neck.”
“To counter,” I say.
“Go ahead.”
“Just because a guy has been with men, busty chicks, Asian chicks, sheep—doesn't mean I can't get him to come to my side because, please. Also, Belle and I have an understanding. We both have demanding...families and jobs dat require us to do certain t'ings so den it's okay. No emotions—just work. We do what needs to be done and den we go home to each other. It has to be dat way, de way t'ings go with all our...” I wave a hand back and forth. I think she gets the message I mean family bullshit.
Mercy closes her eyes for a moment. There are times her expression is so very much like Henri's, “That is actually very mature,” she concedes, slowly, “If you can keep with that—I mean, you're young, Remy. It's good to have ideals but things...” she sighs, “Okay, we've been at this a lot longer than you and emotions are complicated and just because you have 'an understanding' doesn't give you free rein to just screw around whenever you want to.”
“Do you see me screwing around?” I ask her, “I got offered mile high not to long ago and I didn't.”
“Congratulations,” she says, sarcastically, “Let's give you an award because you didn't sleep with someone.”
“My point,” I tell her, “Is dat I'm not a stupid whore. I can keep t'ings out of my pants.”
“My point,” she continues, “is that this doesn't need to be screwed up because you're screwing around and neither does the pending alliance. The guild peace is very fragile. Very fragile.” She seems to want to say something else but doesn't.
“I know it's fragile. I'm around Julien much more than you, and finish your thought,” I press, “Let's get dis all out.”
“We don't need another Etienne.” she says, pained.
I start to counter on that. How dare she—that wasn't—but she wasn't there. All of that boils down to my word as the only surviving witness. We've kept things quiet and low so far. I don't need to wake everyone around us to our “super secret plans” by going off.
“No witty come back?” she asks, halfheartedly. What she said went too far which she knows; but that was my fault making her explain to me.
“I don't want dat,” I shake my head, “Dat's de last t'ing I would want. I keep hearing all about how I'm not takin' t'ings right; but dis is just my way. I got dis. It's fine. You guys want to test me or do whatever, den dat's fine, let me do it how I do it.”
“Fine.” She says and closes her eyes to go back to sleep.