             |
"Shylocks, G-Men, and Dames"
Date: April 2, 2000  Ty August is sitting in the corner of the bar, chatting it up with Red Jen, his beat up ol' fedora sitting by his elbow. Red Jen shrugs. "He's cute. An' he treats me nice. Even if he is always..." A squeal, and she slides off the barstool and practically throws herself at the newcomer. "GUSSIE! I though you was never comin'!" AwwwwwwWWWWwwwwwwww.... just Ty's luck. He settles further back into the shadows rather than leaning forward interestedly like he was doing earlier. . o O (Great. Not only do I owe him two grand I ain't got, he's caught me makin' eyes at his girl. Wonderful. Where the hell's the opportunity for a fast exit when ya need one?) The man who just entered, shadowed by two of his ever-present goons -- huge, hulking shapes who look as if anything beyond standing around and looking tough were beyond their mental capacity -- holds his hands open to Red Jen as she barrels at him. "Hey, babe. Mind the suit." He's in white, as ever, and one of his men removes the trenchcoat slung across his shoulders while Mr. August Silver slings an arm around the redhead and scans the interior of the pub. Red Jen pouts. "I am mindin' da suit. I'm also mindin' da fact dat you promised you'd show up yesterday and you never did." Ty August knocks back his whiskey before things can get rough, and mentally braces himself for a pounding. Two ugly mugs with the Cash Man. Great. And they're blocking the door. Maybe, if Lady Luck is with him t'day, that red-headed number will keep Silver so busy that he won't notice Ty. August Silver shrugs, and waves off one goon while he gives Red Jen a squeeze. "Things to do, Jenny. I'm here now. And I see you got a friend." He didn't overlook Ty. His wintry-blue eyes zero in on the man with the battered fedora, and Mr. Silver starts moseying in that direction. The two goons split up -- one heads toward the door where he takes up a sentry-like post, and the other wanders, oh-so-casually, over toward the stairs. The only two escape routes. Red Jen humphs, and sits on the nearest table. "You always got business." Tantalizing Thalia steps into the tavern from the docks outside. Ty August wouldn't mind, really, if 'Gussie' overlooked business in favor of cuddling Jen. But it looks like Lady Luck's forsaken him. "Hey, Mister Silver." Ty tries for an ingratiating smile. "How you doin' today?" He considers making a comment about the weather, strikes it before speaking it. Too ingratiating. Nothing could be quite so out of place as a moll without a man, but as Tantalizing Thalia enters the room, that is the conclusion that must be drawn. Red lips, shaped into a perfect bow, pucker lonesomely, simply begging for some man to come and be her protector. Still, she steps in, unescorted, heels clicking; a certain surety remains in her walk. Hips swaying, she winds her way into the room so that she can peer over the inhabitants. Sweet eyes, screaming innocence, seek and appear to be unable to find a target. August Silver had just recently entered, and the two goons usually with him aren't far -- one is standing sentry at the door, the other near the stairs. He's on his way over toward Ty, and at the man's greeting, he adopts a pleasant smile. "Just jake, Ty. Hear you've gotten yourself into a tough spot, though. Behind the eight ball, eh?" When he's amiable like that -- when he's smiling, that's when he's the most unpredictable. "Nothin' I can't get out of, Mister Silver. But thanks for the concern and all." Ty nods his head politely, losing the smile and suddenly looking just plain serious and careworn. "It ain't going to cause our deal to suffer, I swear. I'll have it for ya by the deadline." Two days from now. Too bad that he doesn't have two nickels to rub together at the moment. Red Jen observes, to no-one in particular. "Always da same. Can't give up work for time with me." A pout. "And when he does, you can betcha last nickel dat I'm asleep. And dat he'll be off just when I wakes up." Tantalizing Thalia sashays her way to the bar. It is a sin for a woman like her to be alone, but that's the way of the world when men have work to do. She edges herself onto a seat, the cushion only showing the perfect formation of her rear end. "Anything," she says to the bartender. Her voice is light and soft, easy on the ear. Perfectly manicured red nails contrast brilliantly with the pale perfection of her skin, as she moves her small purse onto the counter. "Aww, I knew you wouldn't skip out on me, Ty." Mr. Silver leans casually against the bar, tapping it to get the bartender's attention. "Gin," he orders, then glances over toward Jen, overhearing her comment. His expression doesn't change, except to harden slightly, that smile still fixed in place. "She's a fine broad, eh, Ty? Real peach." He glances back at his companion at the bar and murmurs, "I noticed you noticing her." Red Jen perks up at the attention, waggles her fingers at Mister Silver, blows him a kiss. Great. Does that mean his interest rate's going up from two hundred to three hundred percent? Ty doesn't wince, doesn't look at all abashed. "Nice girl you've got there." 'Nice' doesn't describe Red Jen at all. "Very intelligent." Ah, haaaaaaah. "Anythin'?" The bartender slides out a glass, fills it with ice, adds a shot from two bottles held deftly in one hand, and pours a gin with the other, slides the results to Thalia and Silver. Tantalizing Thalia takes a dainty sip, red lips giving the glass the promise of luxury that can only be imagined by the men in the room. The liquid crosses over the painted flesh, giving them a sheen of wetness. "Thank you," says the woman who screams 'bait.' August Silver's gaze couldn't help but fall on that tantalizing skirt seated nearby, and it takes a moment or two for his attention to be dragged back. "Yeah, she's first rate. Some guys get too fresh though, know what I'm saying? They get ideas." He turns, fixing Ty with a direct stare as he lifts his glass and shoots it back, downing the drink. "Don't get any ideas, Ty." "You know me, Mister Silver," Ty protests his innocence. Why, his expression is one of hurt innocence, trust betrayed. "I wouldn't do something like that." If he thought he'd get caught. A cough from Red Jen, as Silver's eyes linger a little too long on the floozy at the bar. Ness steps into the tavern from the docks outside. "Good, good," August murmurs to Ty as he sets his empty glass back down on the bar. "Knew you were savvy. And I know you'll have enough to cover the juice, too." 'The Cash Man' has made it a business to be one of the only shylocks in town, and as a result, the interest he charges can get rather steep. Especially when he thinks he's got a mark cornered. Ness steps inside calmly, coolly, professionally. Like a guy who knows where he's supposed to be and what he's going to find inside this place. Adjusting his cuffs, he heads toward the bar, a wry smile on his features. Tantalizing Thalia licks the remaining liquid off her perfect red lips and adjusts her seat, which only tightens the blue silk which rounds her buttocks. Lashes, sinfully long, fall to caress her cheeks as she looks down the bar demurely. Fingers raise and push red nails upwards toward the coiffure, adjusting a strand which has escaped. Cornered, Cowed, and Completely Screwed Over. Yeah, the three C's of basic moneylending philosophy. To Ty's credit, he doesn't look around for a literal or figurative way to escape. He does give Thalia an appreciative glance, but his mind is on survival right now, not procreation. "You bet I will, Mister Silver." Somehow. Another cough from Red Jen, this one an ahem-there's-a-lawman-in-here warning. The suit at the door reaches into one pocket and draws out a pack, Camels probably, before lighting one up. Yep, he's calm, and yep, he's just going to breathe some smoke and have a look around. August Silver's gaze had wandered over toward Thalia again, and it lingers a few seconds too long before Jen's delicate cough catches his attention. His eyes snap toward the door -- to the man who just walked in. There's another guy at the door, too -- one of Mr. Silver's hired thugs -- big on muscles but seriously lacking in brains. Another one is standing by the stairway. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, August warns them against taking any action. So they remain where they are, doing what they do best -- glowering and looking tough. "Well well, Jenny. You're starting to cater to all kinds." Glances that are sent her way, Thalia appears to either take as her due, or not notice due to the air of innocence which surrounds her. She takes a breath, her breasts threatening to explode out of the low-cut top of her dress. As a single gal, her entire air is one of a woman needing protection and perhaps a man to teach her. Oh, good, a lawman. Ty leans his head back against the wall -- he's claimed the seat in the shadows, at the end of the bar, and closes his eyes for a second, snapping them back open if August Silver's gaze heads back his way. "Hey, Bruno. Another whiskey, and another drink for Mister Silver, on me." Make nice to the man that could buy Manhattan. Ness strolls toward Jen, cigarette in hand, slow smile growing. A finger knocks his fedora back a few degrees before he greets, "Morning, Jen." Yep, he knows this dame. 'Course he does. Everyone knows Red Jen. Many of them too well for Silver's liking. "Like I get to pick and choose who walks in da door, Gussie." She hrmphs at Ness. "I don't recall telling you dat you could call me dat, Mister Ness." A bourbon and a gin are whistled up by the ever attentive bartender. That familiar greeting isn't lost on Mr. Silver -- that one standing at the bar who could buy Manhattan. Some say he could buy off much of the police force, too, but that tactic would never work on Ness. August doesn't like the man -- he doesn't like anyone he can't charm, swindle, or buy. His pale eyes remain fixed on Ness, though he absently nods toward Ty at the offer of a drink. "Sorry if I rubbed you the wrong way, ma'am," says the G-man with a slow smile. "Mind if I look around as long as I'm here?" He glances Silver and nods in recognition: any Treasury agent worth his salt knows that mug. Tantalizing Thalia doesn't take part in the conversation. Her light soprano only reaches out to grab the bartender's attention as she asks for another drink. Without care or as if she doesn't know that she ought, she says, "Anything." Red fingernails trace the rim of her empty cup, hinting at how the nails might touch the lips of a lucky man. Ty August receives his own whiskey into grateful hands which thankfully don't shake at all. Takes a sip, sets it aside and next to his fedora on the bar, and watches Ness himself, not sure whether to be grateful that the heat's off him, or irked that the G-man's presence is putting Silver in a bad mood that might get taken out on Ty. Red Jen shrugs. "I'm dyin' for da day I get a choice, Mister Ness." Another faint nod toward his thugs, and Guido and Nunzio adopt a less formal posture. Rather than looming, now they're just loitering -- in case Ness wants to take a look around, they're not to thwart him. This is Jen's place, after all. August Silver watches Ness, and watches Jen, and occasionally watches Thalia. Ty, he doesn't watch, but he continues to stand at the bar, close enough to the PI to keep him from relaxing. Ness's answer is just irritatingly proper as he reaches over to stab out that cigarette. "Every citizen's got the choice to obey or disobey the laws, ma'am. You don't want me here, say the word and I'll go. The judge probably wouldn't say no to a search warrant." Ty August, by contrast, lights a cigarette and starts Thalia watching, with the occasional roll of his eyes, upward, at the G-man's words. Cigarette goes into the corner of his mouth- how the man can drink whiskey and smoke at the same time without causing a conflagration is a mystery. Red Jen hrmphs. "You's bad for custom. And you know it." "Yeah," August Silver volunteers from the bar. "Jen here just wants to make nice with the coppers." He smiles, but it isn't a warm one. Tantalizing Thalia's slim purse sits beside her empty glass, the bartender not having gotten around to refreshing. Yet, the dame has not shown that she can pay for the item, whatever it was, that she has consumed. The half-lidded eyes moves to caress the figures of the men which loiter by the bar as the dame waits for a new drink. In fact, the only manner of payment this luscious dame might understand is one which involves physical contact. "Now Jen..." Clacking his tongue, knocking back the fedora another few degrees, Ness leans on the bar, comfortably, "you and I both know customers shouldn't be coming here to begin with. Besides, do you really want to spend your life lining Silver's pockets?" Rule one. Never, ever piss off a redhead. "Am I hearing you right, Mister Ness?" Red Jen bristles, visibly. Oohhhhhhh. He's done it now. Ty can't help but evince interest at that -- and a silent plea to Lady Luck that says: let Silver take enough offense to move away from me. There's a low, dry chuckle from the bar. "Better brush up on your facts, copper. This joint belongs to the dame." Mr. Silver holds up his hands, as if pleading innocence. "I ain't got time to get my hands involved in an outfit like this." Ness glances toward the bloodsucking leech who's got his fingers in most people's wallets and just smiles. "She may own the place, Silver, but I'm sure some money finds its way to you, one way or the other. Don't know why you spend so much time in here anyways." He reaches past Ty's arm to toss back the rest of that whiskey and straightens. "I'll be back in a while with that warrant." Red Jen snorts. "Youse calling me a liar, Mister Ness?" She draws herself to her full five-feet-not-as-much-as-she'd-like. "I don't pay dis guy a cent." "Well, if that's true, Jen, you're a rare breed." Ness puts two bits on the counter for the whiskey and straightens his fedora. "I'll be back in a few hours with some friends... might give your customers time to get themselves together and get out." "Hey Ness," Mr. Silver calls from the bar. He's smiling -- that's rarely a good sign. "Watch your back." Ness pauses to look behind him at the silver shark. "Mrs. Ness'd like it if I do." "I told youse not to call me Jen," growls the redhead. "Or I'll find someone to tell Mrs. Ness youse making over familiar with the ladies." As the debate between Red Jen and Ness draws some attention, Thalia turns in her seat, making the cushion of the stool sigh. The bartender eventually arrives to refresh her drink with another of mysterious origin, but she waves it off with a single elegant flick of her pristine hand. "No, thank you," says the dame, far more polite than the rest of the clientele. She reaches for her purse and pulls out some greenbacks, but the items slip out of her finger. She sighs and slides off her stool, preparing to bend over and retrieve them. "I got it, doll," Mr. Silver offers as he leans down to retrieve the greenbacks. Not that he wouldn't want to watch Thalia bend over, but Jen certainly would have noticed that, and it's doubtful even his hired thugs could protect him from the brunt of her temper. There's a time and place. Ness tips his hat to Jen with a polite sort of bow. "Ma'am," he says politely, adding another tip of the hat to Silver. "Mr. Silver. Good day, all." Red Jen snorts at Ness. To Silver, "And da doll has a pair of hands dat work for herself, too." Somedays, Cash Man, you can't win. Ness steps out of the Siren's Song and onto the docks outside. An easy smile is followed by the pink tip of her tongue caressing the cerise Eden which serves as her lips. She puts out a slim hand to Mr. Silver. "Thank you." Her eyes, sparkling like sapphires in the rough, turn to Red Jen. "Your man is quite the gent. You should be proud." Thalia takes a breath, once again straining the ability of her dress to stay on her body without splitting at the seams. "I'm grateful he saved me the trip." Red Jen says, tartly, "You would be." Tantalizing Thalia shrugs her shoulders at Red Jen, making her dress move in interesting ways across her bosom. The beads and sequins sparkle as the action ends. There is a quick flick of her eyelashes, showing the contrast between her platinum blonde beauty and the fire inspired by Red Jen. "Some men like gratitude." There is a breathiness to her speech, her voice more appropriate to whispers and cries in the dark than true conversation. "There, see? Just being a gentleman, Jenny, like the dame says." 'The Cash Man,' notorious loan shark and a dangerous man to have as an enemy -- or even a friend -- straightens and hands Thalia back her dropped dollars. He always was a sucker for a skirt. "Here you go, sweetheart, and you be careful, now. There's a lot of guys who ain't such fine gents as me." He retrieves his silver-tipped cane from where he'd leaned it against the bar, and tips his head toward Ty. "I'll be hearing from you," he tells him, his amiable tone fled. Red Jen watches the loan shark with narrowed eyes. He's not getting out of here that easily. Not after having stood her up yesterday AND flirted with the floozy at the bar. Tantalizing Thalia closes her hands over the greenbacks. "Thank you," she breathes again. "I always remember a kindness." She laughs softly, giving Red Jen a sidelong glance, as if to show honey can catch more flies. "I will be careful, Mr. Silver." With that, she slides the bills onto the counter and clutches her purse to her stomach, only accentuating the extension of her bosom. August Silver's pale blue gaze drifts over Thalia's accentuated assets and he smiles again, with far more warmth than he usually displays. But Red Jen is glaring daggers at him, so he doesn't do more than tip his hat before sauntering over toward the irascible redhead. "Come now, Jenny, don't be sore. Why don't you make the joint kosher for Ness' visit? He said he'd be back. No sense in getting in dutch with the law -- anymore than you already are." Red Jen sighs. "Da joint is always kosher for dat one." She raises her voice. "If any of you louses..." Addressing the clientele. "...Don't want dat G-man nosin' around, now'd be a good time to find someplace else to drink." Tantalizing Thalia doesn't appear interested in staying in the joint. Having paid her tab, she sashays her way out of the Siren's Song, to billboard her walking invitation elsewhere. "That's my girl," Mr. Silver murmurs as he draws closer to Jen, reaching out to slide an arm around her waist if she'll let him. She might still be peeved at him, but he's prepared to pour on the charm if need be. Tantalizing Thalia steps out of the Siren's Song and onto the docks outside. Red Jen snorts at him. "It doesn' wash, ya louse." Course it doesn't. That's why she's snuggling up. Leo Triton steps into the tavern from the docks outside. While many of the clientele are busy fleeing in face of the impending visit of the law-men, August Silver seems to entertain no concern beyond pacifying the redhead. "Now Jenny," he murmurs, "you know you're a knockout -- that broad at the bar?" He shakes his head. "No contest." Heedless of wrinkling his pristine white suit, he draws her up against him and plants a brief kiss on her lips. "Not still mad, huh?" he asks. Red Jen drapes her arms round his neck, kisses back. "Might be. Youse goin' to take me out to dinner, Gussie?" No one calls the Cash Man 'Gussie.' No one except Jen, it seems, for Mr. Silver lets the nickname pass without comment. "Sure thing, doll. Anywhere you like. I just gotta take care of some business first. Back at 8 to pick you up." One hand drifts lower, giving her rear a pat and a squeeze before he extricates himself from her arms and motions to the two goons who'd entered with him. "Wear that blue dress. You know how I like you in blue." Red Jen pouts. "You don't be late, mm?" Everyone's leaving in the wake of the incoming law? Leo's just in time then, isn't he? Or maybe a little early. Or it could be he's late. Doesn't much matter. He's here anyway. He sidesteps one of those on their way out, and avoids being shouldered into the doorframe. Lucky guy. He'll just invite himself on in, if it's all the same. Invite himself in, and have a look around, yessireebob. "Not a chance." The platitude falls easily from his lips, as do so many others. Mr. Silver is only reliable when it comes to collecting the debts owed him. Then, he's positively punctual. His gaze skims toward the newcomer, and the smile leaves his lips; Two-Faced Leo's too two-faced even for the Cash Man. With merely a nod of acknowledgment, the notorious loan shark heads for the door, and his goons fall into step behind him as Mr. Silver steps out into the night. Red Jen mutters, grumbling, "Maybe if I owed ya money, Gussie, you'd turn up on time for once." August Silver steps out of the Siren's Song to the docks outside.
FIN
|
