Haven AU: Vince Bitch Fest

[amichan]

 

“You know how long I've been back?” I ask him, “What time is it?”

“One thirty,” he says.

“So, four and a half hours. Four and a half hours, Vince, and you've already had me do a thing.”

“You're ranting about that, but you're not thanking me for getting you out of there?” Vince mutters.

“They would have had to let me out eventually,” I retort, “You didn't have to come get me.”

Vince sighs, “Get in the damn car.”

I do so, “Why did they even call you to come get me?”

“I was the last person in your phone that you'd talked to...”

I snort, “Lucky I didn't have my other phone on me. They'd have been calling Russia,” neither of us say anything for a while but I have to ask, “So, when did the Troubles start back up?”

“When I got in touch with you we'd had confirmation for two days. I wanted to make sure...these things are tricky. You're the one who took your time getting back.”

“I had a job to finish. I told your flunky that when he radioed. I'm not going to bail on a client. That's bad for business,” my head is pounding which isn't making my mood any better. Neither is the fact the fucking client's flunky never actually showed up.

“You know what the Troubles starting back up means for your business.”

I lean forward, trying to focus on something else so I'm not scratching at my left arm but it feels like something is burrowing it's way through the skin, “That doesn't mean I want some pissed off client tracking me back here.”

Vince doesn't say anything for a moment, “Fair enough.”

I try leaning back in the seat but I can't get comfortable. I close my eyes against the sun but it doesn't help, “I don't want any more of this bullshit for at least a week if not two.”

“That's not up to me,” Vince says.

“You have how many Guard? You can't find someone who can talk people down from their crazy so they don't have to be dealt with?” Why is this chair so fucking lumpy?

“I don't like when we have to do these things any more than you do.”

“Yeah, but you don't have to do it.”

Vince sighs. I swear he is the slowest driver, “If I haven't said it before I do appreciate that you are not like your father though.”

I could get out and walk faster than this. Why is it taking so damn long?

“Whatever.” I can't sit in the car much longer. I am going to wind up ripping my arm off. This chair. His slow ass driving.

“It wasn't a conspiracy to bring you back here and immediately have you—have a job for you. That just happened.”

“Just stop and let me out, okay?”

“We're not back at the dock yet.”

“I can walk. Just stop.”

“I'm not--”

“Just stop the damn car or I'm going to get out right now.” I pull at the lock.

Vince pulls over, “I told them I'd get you there.”

“I know where my fucking boat is, and since when are you beholded to the cops?”

Vince just looks disgruntled, “That's...I'll be in touch.”

“I'm sure you will.”

He drives off. I would flick him off if there wasn't something fucking with my arm. I stop trying to get to it through the layer of jacket and shirt and slip my hand up the sleeve instead as I continue to walk.