#but i just really really miss ricky and esther

[operationslipperypuppet]

top 5 murph npcs? & top 5 brennan npcs? :)

oh excellent question

murph npcs:

general jaina bronzebeard (shoutout to the end of jainabaiting and to her having legendary actions now. and also to her slipping in c1. icon)

ol cobb (god, what a guy. i miss him so bad but what an exit. he flirted with mavrus mid battle. he’s hardwon’s best friend. i love him.)

jolene the green (a murph mom dude. a freaking murph mom. devastating. beautiful. and also believably living for thousands of years?? there’s something about how murph plays an immortal. “we will not rain arrows down from our towers, we will always shine a light” has been written on my wall for a year and a half. god)

balnor (feels rude to put him this low but like. couldn’t skip him. this man was a CARD. he’s gonna make you cry. we’re the hounds. we’re the freaking hounds.)

kenna (KENNA!!! new addition but god i love her. she does Not want to cover up her hammer with a knitted cover, mr bufo, but thanks for the offer. she is giving you a potion. she’s jumping off a cliff. she’s so so strong.)

special shoutout to mira kilde and melora bc i love them and couldn’t omit any of the earlier ones to put them on the list.

brennan npcs:

sandra lynn faeth (i love her so much she’s so much fun and she sucks but she’s working on it!! also it’s so sad that there wasn’t time to ask her about the bobby dawn thing bc holy shit)

alejandro (brennan excels as an old, slightly nuts wizard. he fits this mold perfectly. his reaction to finding out dale is dead is so freaking funny to me every time. plus kingston can summon him in tuc2. it’s wonderful)

esther sinclair (she can’t cry. she wants to fuck ricky so bad. she’s a wizard with a baseball bat. she’s mad. she’s right. she’s running a secret society of wizards. i. love her)

avanash the bones guy (numbers don’t really matter on this list but this guy is so funny. and the bit lasts a good amount of time. it’s so dumb)

jan de la vega (she’s just so rad. she’s against them but then she isn’t and she will kick their asses later if needed. she’s so fun)

it was hard to narrow both those down damn

ask me my top 5 anything

[deepdisireslonging]

Choices Chapter 8: Under the Gun

Wardlow sends Ricky out on a mission where he won't have back-up. It turns to the worst, and Esther won't take no for an answer. She steals the car to go after Ricky, ending up in hot water herself.

Warnings/Promises: gangster violence, blood, held at gunpoint, Esther in peril

Word Count: 5800

Chapter 7: Secrets and Threats

Sunday, February 24, 1929

Bridgeport Township

The morning broke cold and unyielding. Any native Chicagoan could look up at the sky and know that not a single snowflake would flutter. To the school-stuck children and downtown visitors, this was a travesty. To those who had to walk to and from work, it was a blessing.

Still, the grey light had been enough to wake Esther from her fitful sleep. She didn’t remember slipping into unconsciousness. But she remembered everything from the night before.

Britt Baker dropping the gun into her purse.

Ricky trapped outside of Giovanni’s, still as a statue because of something Adam Cole said.

The tenderness of Ricky’s kiss on her forehead.

Then, the shock of everyone in the parlor, armed to the teeth.

And… and poor Dante Martin.

The shot still rang in her ears as Esther headed down for breakfast. Like the night before, she hugged the wall as she descended. She paused halfway down before she’d be visible by anyone walking through the hallway. Downstairs, the gentle hum of conversation and the clinking of utensils rose to a feverish pitch that echoed in Esther’s mind. Her breath came out fast, and the floor spun beneath her.

“Miss Garnier?”

With a yelp, Esther flattened against the wall. A worried Shawn Spears raised his hands in defense. “Oh. Sorry, Mr. Spears. You startled me.”

His lips twitched with a grin. “So I noticed.” Though he held out his hand for support, Spears was understanding when she didn’t move. “Take all the time you need coming down. We’re all on edge, and I didn’t mean to scare you. Would you like me to leave-”

“No! Actually… please stay.” Esther did her best to even out her breathing. “I don’t know why I can’t seem to get my feet under me. I thought I’d be used to all,” she motioned vaguely before returning her hand to her chest, “all this by now.”

With a warm smile, Spears shrugged. “Considering the warm welcome we gave you last night, I wouldn’t blame you. Walking into a room full of guns will do that to you.” He waited patiently while she caught her breath. “Ready?” Again, he offered his arm.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Esther tensed to hear all of the voices. Including Wardlow’s. Absently, she kneeled as Ares trotted up to her side. She scratched behind his ears while staring into nothing. He bumped his wet nose into the bottom of her chin, bringing her back to the present. Still, she wondered if anyone else had heard the shot that night.

Spears mistook her trepidation. “If you like, I can have Mrs. Anne bring you up a tray-”

“Oh, no. I’ll be alright.” She didn’t move. Even when Ares gruffed at her.

“Miss Garnier,” Spears raised her to her feet, patting her hand. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Do you trust us?”

Esther flinched as Joe’s voice joined the fray. “Ye-yes. I trust you.”

She allowed him to lead them into the dinning room. It was filled the same way as last Sunday, spread with a delightful brunch. Like everything was normal. Like someone hadn’t been murdered on the back porch just hours ago. Like they weren’t under attack from an unknown assailant determined to bring down every underworld corporation. Had it really been only yesterday morning when Wardlow had given her and Ricky the day off? She tried not to think. Especially not about how much her life had changed in just twenty-four hours as she took her seat. Ricky removed a plate laid over another to reveal her usual breakfast, still mostly warm. He gave her hand a few squeezes as Wardlow finished his overview of the night before.

“Overall, we didn’t suffer as much as we could have. It’s a small setback. One we’ll recover from. But it’s going to take more time with all the other setbacks of late.”

His gaze lingered over Esther, making her shrink in her seat. While the image of him brandishing the revolver the night before flashed in her mind, she did her best to flash him a smile as proof that she was listening and keeping up. He nodded back.

“With two of us out, the rest of us are going to have to step up. Nobody goes anywhere without backup unless authorized by me or Joe.” He turned to Ricky. “Starks, you have one of those jobs. We’re sending you to Friedman and Co. I apologize for cutting your resting short, but we received some updates. Apparently, there is a physical list of the guys defecting to the Dealer as part of his new crew. Friedman might have a copy.”

Esther covered up her frown by poking at her eggs. She tossed Ares a scramble. Friedman?

With a matching crease in his brow, Ricky lowered his coffee cup with a clatter. “Friedman? Since when his he capable of keeping his mouth shut with such hot intel? And who said anything about a list?”

“Omega, by way of Martin. And Ethan Page was spotted at the attack last night.” Joe turned in his seat, daring Ricky to continue.

Which he did. “Page. Okay. Case solved. Page is part of the Poker Game. Why send me to Friedman country when I could probably pick Page up at one of his haunts and bring him here?” Ricky looked around. “And where is the kid? I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

Esther froze.

At the head of the table, Wardlow and Joe avoided looking at each other.

“After sending you all out,” Joe said, “the two of us will be driving him back to Feathers.”

Wardlow stared Ricky down. “Do you want to be assigned somewhere else? Standing on some cold corner with a crewmate watching for trouble, perhaps?”

“No, no.” Ricky leaned back. “It’s just-” He smiled. “Do you not like me or something? Why do you keep sending me into enemy territory for information we don’t need, or already have?” Ricky was oblivious to how everyone bristled; his only focus was Wardlow. “I’m getting back by the skin of my teeth. One day it won’t be enough.”

“Then you better make it enough.” With a sign, he placed his hands flat on the table as he leaned. “I know it sounds round-about, sending you back to the same places. But if we can find out who is on this crew, maybe we can out the Dealer as well. And either include him in the families without further trouble, or, if he resists, take him out. The only way Joe was able to talk me into sending you by yourself is because you work faster without the extra weight. Do you want me to send Spears with you?”

Ricky shuffled in his seat. “No, Boss. I’ll, uh, finish my coffee and head out.”

“Take your time.” Wardlow tapped his knuckles on the table to keep Ricky’s eye contact. “Don’t rush this. Do it right and you’ll probably be home by suppertime. If you get caught snooping, I don’t have the manpower to help you out. You’re on your own. Understand?”

A level of realization washed over Ricky’s face. Within a blink, he looked completely calm. “I understand.”

“Alright. Everyone, finish your breakfasts and head out.”

Wardlow and Joe were out the door before Esther could ask what her task was. When returning her plate to the kitchen, she said as much. Mrs. Anne gave her shoulders a squeeze.

“Our task is laundry day. It gives us clean sheets at least. Or clean fabric for bandages if someone comes back for the worst.”

Ricky disappeared before Esther could talk to him too. Something about his demeanor at the end of breakfast worried her. He had given her forehead a lingering kiss before she headed to the kitchen, squeezing her tight to his torso, despite the soft hoots from crewmates. But once the laundry process began, she didn’t have room to ruminate on any of it. If anything, Esther welcomed the task. It gave her something to do with her hands. And it gave her room to relax again. While her muscles strained with the familiar task, the tension of the past several days melted away. A couple of hours passed this way: heating hot water, chatting with Mrs. Anne, and joining in with her to tease Mr. Jim.

When the back door opened, Wardlow and Joe could hardly enter for all of the fabric hanging off the back porch.

The Boss smiled at Esther as he stepped in. “Looks like the circus is in town.”

“And you’ll have to go join one if you put those greasy hands anywhere near my clean sheets, Mr. Wardlow.” Mrs. Anne tapped her stirring spoon on the inside of the large boiling pot. “You undo Miss Garnier’s and my work, and it’ll be you sweating over his task.”

Esther laughed at the bemused shock on his face. And again as he deftly slid his hands into his coat pockets, far away from the sheets.

At first, she thought it was the wind. But then the billowing fabric flew up, a few falling off the line, to reveal a huffing and puffing Spears.

“Mr. Spears, do you mind-” Mrs. Anne started.

“Sorry, Anne. But- they- they got Ricky.”

Esther dropped a wad of fabric back into the pot with a splash, drenching her skirt.

Face ashen, Wardlow slumped against the wall. He was unsurprised, and, terrifyingly to Esther, resolute. He exhaled slowly. “Starks knew the risk. How’s everyone else?”

Before Spears could answer, Esther sputtered, “that’s it? ‘He knew the risks’ so you’re just going to leave him there? You- you can’t do that. You three are here! Why don’t-”

“We won’t be enough.” Spears accepted the glass of water Mr. Jim handed him. Panting, he gulped it down. “Something’s got Friedman spooked. Everyone’s home… and armed to the teeth. Ricky would have seen that, but however it was, he still got nabbed.” Spears accepted her watery glare. “I’m sorry, Miss Garnier.”

No. This couldn’t be happening. Everyone else in the room was silent. All of them already in mourning. Besides Spears’s receding panting, and Esther’s quickening hyperventilating, only the boiling pots made a sound. The situation burned Esther more than the scent of lye in her nose. Several times she tried to start a defense. And each time, the words died in her throat. First one tear, then another, rolled hot and miserable down her cheek. Mrs. Anne gently took hold of her shoulders, her own chin wobbling.

“Your dress is soaked through, dear. How about we change you into another one before you catch cold?”

The dam broke.

“Are we just supposed to live on like normal? Like nothing has happened? They can’t leave him there,” Esther rasped. “They just can’t. What does Friedman want? Give it to him. Just get Ricky back.” With a sob, she let Mrs. Anne envelope her in a hug.

Over her head, Mrs. Anne pleaded silently with the Wardlow, boring her eyes into the deflected gazes of each of the leaders.

Speares cleared his throat. “They dragged him in. They- they didn’t… clip him in the street.”

“He’s probably still alive then.” Wardlow nodded. “Starks has gotten into tougher trouble before. He can get himself out.”

Joe rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Like he did last time?”

Still, nobody moved.

As the air rushed out of her lungs, Mrs. Anne’s shoulders slumped. “Come on, dear. Let’s get you upstairs.

“They can’t. They just can’t.” Esther continued to hiccup through her whispers. She took a deep ragged breath. “What is it all for? Haven’t we lost enough already?”

At the base of the stairs, Esther’s knees gave out. She fell onto the first step without a sound. Fluttering around, Mrs. Anne tried to rouse her. Esther’s single raised hand stopped her cold.

“I’m alright. I can make it from here.”

With gratuitous help from the banister, Esther made it to her feet. She managed her way up the stairs, oblivious to Mrs. Anne’s reactions or movements. With each step, a plan began to form. In her mind’s eye, she studied the map of Chicago, the territories. Too far to walk. She’d have to take a car. She ascended faster, her mind swirling. With Ricky taken, the men would probably have to leave soon to check the rest of the crew. She would have to move quick.

Changing her dress was easy. What gave her pause was taking Britt Baker’s gun into her hand. For its small size, it was heavy. But she’d held heavier boxes and bags of fruit. The weight of it in her pocket kept her focused as she grabbed the layers required to brave the cold. She paused in her doorway, stretching up her hand to the mezuzah. Just resting her fingerprint against the ש settled the plan in her mind. She would need the blessing if this was going to work.

Downstairs, the voices had thankfully drifted from the kitchen to the parlor. Wardlow was telling the Torrios to grab their pre-packed suitcases. They were being sent out of town until things blew over. Already, Joe had left to set up their arrangements. Esther had just sneaked into the kitchen when he told them they were to take Esther with them. To keep her safe. She ducked behind the icebox as Spears walked in the back door. The rumble of the car outside solidified that where Esther was planning to go, it was anything but safe. He shouted from the hallway that the car was ready, but Esther was already moving.

It took her a second to figure out how to shift gears. At first, she had to picture how Ricky had done it the night before. Without losing her resolve. The car started rolling just as Wardlow held open the doors for the Torrios.

“Esther?” His eyes widened. “Esther, wait!”

Biting her lip, she zoomed out of the alley. In the rearview, Wardlow chased the car for a few yards. She turned into the street. His face, worried beyond belief, hardened.

\\*//

Driving a gangster’s car through downtown Chicago was nothing like driving the grocer’s van to its deliveries.

This was faster. Other cars kept honking at her and waving angry obscene gestures. She didn’t see them. Not really. What she did see were the street signs. Hovering in her memory’s vision was the office map. Some streets were too narrow for the car or only one way, making her backtrack. Each second of delay gripped the base of her stomach like a fistful of nails. She did her best to keep breathing.

All of that focused oxygen sputtered out of her lungs when she pulled up outside Friedman and Co. The car blended in with the other nice vehicles of Chicago’s elite who showed up for their public spotlight of helping the poor. It was part of Friedman’s front. Soup kitchen in the front, distillery in the back.

The front steps were too steep for Esther’s wobbly legs. She walked into the side alley instead, aiming for the back door.

It was unlocked.

Taking a shaky breath, Esther fumbled for the gun in her pocket. She froze at the sound of heavy footsteps behind her, and the skittering of a kicked bottle.

Before she could scream, a thick arm wrapped around her throat. She struggled. But its grip was too tight. The grip stepped her into the building as her vision flickered out.

\\*//

Friedman and Company Soup Kitchen and Fresh Beginnings

Northside Riverfront

The world was rocking when Esther came to. Her throat hurt like never before. But when she tried to lift a hand to feel over her skin, her right hand was pinned down. She gasped as Ethan Page leered down at her.

“Did you have a nice nap?” He laughed easy, as if watching a kid trip into a mud puddle. “You’re awake just in time. Things are about to get interesting.” He stopped carrying her in front of a door. Gentle as it was, he still suddenly dropped her to her feet. With her arm trapped under his, Esther’s shoulder wrenched. It kept her too surprised to run. It wasn’t another five seconds before he had a strong arm around her waist and a gun to the back of her neck. “And thanks for the new piece.” He leaned close enough that Esther could feel his breath behind her ear. “It’s nice.”

A shout came from behind the door.

Although Esther dug in her heels, Page easily pushed her into the room. He had to lift her off her feet when she saw who the shout belonged to.

Ricky looked worse than she’d ever seen him. The eye that had been healing since they met was swollen and purple again. There was a trickling cut on his lip and his nose was bleeding too. Tied to a chair, his coat and waistcoat were gone, leaving plenty of white shirt to soak up his blood and sweat. He hadn’t noticed Esther yet as he was too busy glaring at the other occupants in the room.

She recognized the curly-haired Jack Perry. Sammy Guevarra. And Maxwell Friedman. A fourth man had his fist as the ready. He landed it into Ricky’s stomach over his bruised ribs.

“That all you got, Darby?”

Darby replied with another stiff punch.

“Hey, Boss. Look who decided to visit.” Page adjusted his grip on the gun, making her squeak. It caught Ricky’s attention, stopping him mid-bloody cough.

Esther shuddered a breath. “Hello, Darling.”

His shoulders slumped. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

A hand dropped on his shoulder, making him flinch.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” Friedman walked behind Ricky, placing both hands on his shoulders and kneading them roughly. “Just a few weeks and she’s already got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

“Let her go, Maxwell.” Ricky’s chest heaved. “She doesn’t know anything, and she doesn’t need to see this. Please.” He grunted as Friedman dug his fingers into Ricky’s hair and tugged, yanking his head to one side.

Friedman’s face shifted from dangerous teasing to dangerously serious. “Then tell me what I want to know, and she can go home. Might even let her take you with her, since she went through all the trouble of coming to rescue you. All alone.”

Terrified, Ricky’s eyes went wide. “You shouldn’t have done that, Doll.”

Behind her, Page hummed into Esther’s hair. “But she did. You were such a lucky man, Starks.”

Full body quakes riddled Esther’s body as he shifted the placement of the gun from the back of her neck to run along the neckline of her dress. She struggled but couldn’t seem to form any words of defense. Neither could Ricky. He strained against the ropes. They dug into his wrists hard enough to make him wince. She wanted to tell him it would be okay. That help was coming. Wardlow may have been hesitant enough when Ricky was nabbed. But he had seen her drive off an had to know where she went. He would surely send help. Right?

“Oh,” Friedman snapped, remembering. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Can’t leave our precious guest in the dark. We were just discussing my visit to a certain automotive repair shop on the fourteenth. And you were there, weren’t you?” Digging his fingers into Ricky’s shoulder, he caught Esther’s eye. “Weren’t you? Those big brown eyes, taking in every bullet and twist of fabric. That’s how Wardlow was able to react so quickly. I was gunning for Joe. But just think; we could have met sooner.”

“You-” Esther fought to catch her breath. “It was your plan. But the card… you’re not the Dealer.”

“No. He’s just an associate of mine. How’d you riddle all that?”

“You’re not smart enough.”

A grin quirked at the side of Ricky’s mouth.

But Friedman’s sneer deepened. “Really? Not like you or Wardlow were faring any better. That card was enough to throw you off the trail, even if that hadn’t been my purpose. I thought I was returning the favor for services rendered on a few of my crew and three of my suppliers. It’s really hard to run a soup kitchen when someone kept clipping my grocers,” he whined. “But we didn’t know about the Dealer back then. We thought your boss and Omega were moving in for a takeover.” His sneer shifted into a businessman’s oily smile. “But now… I have to appreciate his methods.”

Esther’s mind spun. If he had shot Bill and the others, but it wasn’t the Dealer… working with him. Him. Which also ruled out Baker, Cargill, and Hart. She looked at Ricky, tied down as he was. “Then what is this all for? What do you even want?”

“I want him,” Friedman shoved Ricky’s head away, “to tell me the locations of Wardlow’s fronts. The ones that aren’t finished yet.” He punched Ricky in the jaw to punctuate his demand.

“Why?”

“Because-” Ricky spat out a glob of blood. “Mr. Friedman wants to eliminate his biggest rival and thorn in his side in one swoop. All it would take was one fast-moving chopper squad. And then he can go it for the kill.”

Esther pictured the front of Howls, the two she knew. And the businesses on either side that had nothing to do with the racket. She thought about the Torrios leaving the house and Joe and Wardlow going out. “But… Wardlow and Joe might not be at the places when you hit them. They could be looking at prospective locations, or at the house. All of those innocent people around just trying to make a buck.”

“Don’t worry about the house. It’ll be the last stop. As for the others… consider them collateral damage.”

“Murderer,” Esther spat. As she struggled, Page floundered to keep her from launching, hands ready as knives. When Friedman laughed, setting off a chorus of snickers from his crew, Esther dug for a way to jab him. “What about אל תהרוג, do not kill?”

“You’re a fine one to talk, considering the company you keep.”

Ricky watched Friedman step closer to Esther, fist tight at his side. And he watched her shrink back. “I’m not a killer.” He straightened in his chair as Friedman whirled around. “Unlike you.”

A knowing smile smeared across his face. “Oh, we know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Confusion knit Ricky’s brow. Realization seeped in, draining away the remaining blood in his face. “What could you know… about-” He shook away the blurriness in his vision. “You’re still two steps behind. Or did your ‘associate’ fail to mention that he hit us last night already?” He grinned when Friedman’s shoulders tensed. “Some associate. Always beating you to the punch.”

Esther steeled herself to watch Ricky be punched again. Instead, he received a loud, sharp, open-handed slap across the face. It took her back to Joe doing the same to Martin. She couldn’t help but hear the shot reverb in her head again. It made her shiver in Page’s grasp. She knew what was coming next. And, looking into Ricky’s eyes, so did he.

Everything happened so fast. With a nod from their boss, Perry and Darby stalked behind their captive. Darby wrapped an arm around Ricky’s throat. He struggled, eyes squinting as he realized how loose the grip was. Then he heard Perry slowly loading his revolver. He made eye contact with Esther when she whimpered. He watched as Page’s hand slid over her mouth while the gun pressed into her ribs to keep her in place.

Friedman pulled out a pocket watch. He watched the seconds tick by, then wound it. “Only one of Wardlow’s places got hit last night. Where are the others?” He replaced the timepiece.

“You’re scared of him. The Dealer isn’t going to hurt you less just because you helped take down Wardlow.” Ricky never took his eyes off Esther.

“I’m going to count to ten. One.”

Perry flicked the chamber into place. Esther closed her eyes. She prayed this was a dream. She hoped she’d wake up on the morning of February fourteenth and could remember to avoid walking to Bill’s shop.

“Two.”

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Three.”

“Esther. Esther, cherie, look at me.”

She managed to crack open her eyes. His warm, dark gaze steadied her trembling.

“Four.”

Ricky glared at Friedman for a second. He refocused on Esther. “The Boss knows you’re here, yeah?” When she nodded, he nodded back. “He’ll come get you. Okay? You’re going to be-” He cut off as Perry dug the gun into the back of his neck.

“Five. Go on, Ricky. Tell your girl it’s gonna be okay.” Friedman walked over. He ignored her flinch as he wiped the tears off her cheek. “I’d hate to show her how you bruise like a peach.” He flicked the droplets into the room. “Six.”

Even when Darby tightened his grip, Ricky grit his teeth and kept trying to distract Friedman. “Let her go, Maxwell. Do what you want with me. Wardlow’s been trying to get rid of me for a while. I was a dead man walking when I woke up this morning. You’ll be doing him a favor. But if anything happens to her, there’s no place in this world where you could hide.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “Lucky me, having the lynch-pin for the both of you right here. Of her own accord! You’ve got the best eyes and ears in the city, Starks. But sometimes I think you’ve been the most blind how much this girl means to your boss. Where was I? Oh, seven.”

Esther stared at him incredulously.

“You can’t be shocked, sugar.” He huffed a laugh. “What micki-fins have you been hittin’ this girl with? Don’t worry, Doll. We’ll get you back to Wardlow. With a gift between your ribs. Unless your boy starts talking. Eight.”

Ricky arched in his chair, nearly toppling it. Darby shifted his hold. He roughly dragged away Ricky’s tattered tie and shoved it between Ricky’s teeth, pulling it tight. Friedman nodded approvingly.

Esther suddenly breathed deep. And eerie calm settled into her spine. Gently, she dragged Page’s hand away from her mouth. “Darling?” Her lips trembled as Ricky stilled. “It’s okay. I’m just one person. You don’t have to tell him. I understand. Protect them. The people working for Wardlow and any boss. The people like me just trying to survive. It’s okay.”

He shuddered all over, shaking his head.

“It’s okay.”

They wished time would suspend.

“Nine.”

“Christ, Friedman. Don’t be so sadistic.”

Everyone tensed as a set of heels walked into the room.

Esther breathed a sigh of something akin to relief. “Mrs. Baker?”

Britt Baker gave her a kind smile. “Every time I see you, you’re in more trouble than I thought possible.” She nodded around. “Interesting company you keep. What’d you do with my present?”

She glanced down to her side where Page still had the gun pressed tightly into her ribs.

Baker shot a glance at Ricky. “That iron sure does exchange hands a lot. Some gift.” She primped her hair. “Friedman, haven’t I warned you about using Garcia as your doorman before? You’d be safer with a bluebird at your front door, as much as that boy’s head is in the clouds.”

With a non-committal humph, Friedman crossed his arms. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine. Just taking a snooze.”

He rolled his eyes, passing a hand over his face. “I’ll… remedy that later. You got something for me?”

Esther became hyperaware of the briefcase in Baker’s possession. Confused, she watched it exchange hands. Small and black, it looked like any other business briefcase. She wondered if it was the Poker Game list or something else. Friedman smoothed his hand over the leather, obviously wanting to take a peek. But he set it to one side.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to make sense of it all, Esther.” Baker froze Friedman in place with a glare. “There will be a reckoning for his moves against me.” She didn’t bother to hide her smile as Friedman reached a shaking hand into his jacket pocket, handing her the thick envelope he found there. “Luckily for him, he pays well.”

After a nervous clearing of this throat, Friedman shot Esther a smile. “See what you could have had? You should have accepted the job, Sugar.”

It was Baker’s turn to roll her eyes. Despite the circumstances, Esther appreciated that they were on the same page about him. She winked at Esther. Turning towards the crew, Britt nodded at Darby. “Adam requested I get your answer. With Ricky out of the way, and unable to defend his old boss’s haunt, will he see you tonight at the meeting?”

The taciturn man bristled. But he nodded.

“I’ll let him know. Miss Garnier-” she sadly let her empathy shine through. “I hope you find a way out of this. If you do… you know how to find me.” She tipped her fingers off her forehead, bidding the room farewell. “Gentlemen. Miss Garnier.” And she was gone.

Friedman glared such a wintery glance at Darby that the man’s face paled, giving his hollow cheeks a skeletal look. “I don’t care who’s in the Poker Game, but keep me in the loop, yeah?” He waited for Darby’s short, sharp nod. Only then did he turn to flash a warm smile at Esther. “And I mean that. We’re all business partners here. How’d you like him, by the way? The Dealer. He’s the one who welcomed you into my humble kitchen.”

She wasn’t able to fumble through an answer as the information hit her like a stone to the forehead.

“Oh, that’s right.” He tapped a knuckle between his eyebrows. “He put you to sleep before you got a look. Ah, well. What can you do?” Settling the briefcase further to one side, he eyed it warily. “Now where were we? Oh, yes. Nine. Anything to say, Starks?”

Ricky’s struggle began anew. But Darby pulled the tie tight, keeping Ricky’s back flat against the chair. Behind them, Perry stepped back, distancing himself from the impending mess. The struggle was mirrored between Esther and Page, who shifted his hold on her to around her shoulders. She was too shocked by everything to cry. Still, her chest heaved, and her knees wobbled. She hated that her captor’s grip was the only thing keeping her on her feet. To the side, Guevarra cocked his gun too, though Esther wasn’t sure why.

“Ten.”

The gun dug into her ribs. A shot rang out. Ricky screamed her name behind his gag.

Seconds passed.

She didn’t feel cold. She didn’t feel heat. If anything, all Esther felt was confusion. She didn’t feel the pain she expected of being shot. Her eyes darted to look for the gunpowder smell assailing her nose.

Guevarra’s gun was the one that was smoking. And there was a hole in the floor.

“Hmm.” Friedman rolled back his shoulders. “You didn’t faint. My deepest apologies, Miss Garnier. You’re a stronger woman than I gave you credit for.”

Her wobbly legs begged to differ.

“What?” Ricky panted as Darby loosened the gag. He was jubilant that they were in one piece, but-

“Don’t be so green, Starks,” Guevarra snickered. “How were we gonna use Miss Garnier against Wardlow if we plugged her? Too bad about you not spilling your guts over her passed out body though.” He raised his gun. “Too bad.”

With a laugh, Page held the gun next to Esther’s head and pulled the trigger. It clicked, several times, empty. It made Esther flinch every time.

It wasn’t loaded. He must have taken out the bullets when she was out cold earlier.

It wasn’t loaded.

If there was a plan, her brain didn’t tell her. Placing one foot back like Mary once showed her, Esther bent at the waist and pulled as hard as she could on Page’s arm. Unbalanced, he toppled over with a yelp of surprise. His personal gun peeked out from under his jacket. Esther grasped the handle of it, ripping it from the holster and pulling the trigger. Page howled as a hole erupted in his thigh. Teeth chattering and body quaking like San Francisco, Esther pointed the gun in Friedman’s direction.

“Untie him.”

Every man’s mouth dropped open, including Ricky’s. She was aware that Guevarra was now aiming at her, but the gun was mostly pointed at the floor in shock. Friedman’s head cocked to one side. He chuckled.

“Do as she says.”

She hazarded a glance at Ricky as he was able to massage his wrists. “Can- can you walk?” The gun’s shaking made it clack in her hands.

With a nod, Ricky struggled to his feet. He kept a close eye on Guevarra and the man at his back. He snagged the briefcase on his way to her side. Winking at Page, he also retrieved her gun.

“That’s three times you’ve surprised me, Sugar.” Friedman honored her with a bow. “יברך ה' את צעדיך.”

May the Lord bless your steps.

“And may the Devil bless yours.” As Ricky’s hand slid into place at her lower back, her shaking ceased. He guided them out the door Page had dragged her through.

Friedman called after them, “let me know how that hero’s welcome goes for you, Starks!”

A minute later they were in the alley and running towards the street.

They both gave a shout as a figure stepped into their path, blocking out the light from the street.

“Joe!” Esther lowered the gun to her side.

“Esther.” Joe’s head cocked to one side. “Starks?” Shaking away his shock, he waved them towards the car. “Hop in the back. I’ll get it started.”

Ever the gentleman, Ricky shoved her in first before crawling into the floor beside her. They huddled together out of sight from the windows as Joe coaxed the car to life. Ricky gently removed the gun from her hands. His tired palms enveloped her shaking ones.

When Joe finally took the front seat, Ricky asked, “what took you so long?”

“She took the car. Had to hail a cab.” He glanced back once he had the vehicle underway. “I can’t wait to hear this story.” He laughed to himself all the way home.

Esther wanted to cry. She wanted to kiss Ricky all over. But all she could manage was to quake and hold him as close as his injuries would allow.

He kissed her forehead. “We’re fine. You did great, mon cher. We’re okay. The worst is probably over. You’re okay.” He kept his cheek pressed against her forehead all the way back to the house.

\\***//

Chapter 9: The Ultimatum

[banannabethchase]

In My Heart - also on AO3

~

Pete and Maddie decided to hold a weird mid-holiday celebration. Unfortunately, Pete has no idea what day it is, but knows there are small children crawling on him. He's not against it.

~

For Damn It December day 29) That liminal space feeling between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. And 30) Sparkling cider and/or champagne. I Schrodinger'd it a little bit.

Title from Love in My Heart by Babymonster.

~

“I don’t even know what day it is,” Pete groans. For some reason, he’s on his back on the floor. Al and Cat are sitting on either thigh while Langston is draped across his chest. “All I know is there are children on top of me again and I don’t know when it happened.”

“That’s your fault for hosting a holiday party in the liminal days,” Kingston says. He sips his coffee. “Comes from Egyptian tradition. Called the demon days.”

“Tell the story, Daddy,” Langston says very sternly. The effected is lessened by the fact that he’s nose to nose with Pete. Pete avoids the impulse to blow a raspberry or something.

“We’ll tell it the short way,” Kingston says. “It’s the final five days when the goddess Nut was able to give birth to the five major gods, other than herself, her husband, and Ra of course. Tefnut, Osiris, Isis, Seth, and Nephthys. It had been forbidden by Ra for her to give birth during the 360 days of the year, so she gambled with the god Khonsu to earn enough moonlight to gain five days.”

“That the dude from Moon Knight?” Pete asks. With power only available to him after many years of training with Ricky and a few extra wisps of power from Nod, he sits up. Langston giggles and crawls around Pete’s body, almost serpentine, and settles on Pete’s shoulders. Cat and Al, always a team, cling to his legs.

“He’s a fictionalized version, but yes,” Kingston says. “It was a way to explain –”

“It was a way to tell people why there were 365 days instead of 360 because 360 is the degrees in a circle!” Langston interrupts. He throws down quite the drumbeat on the top of Pete’s head.

“Langston, mijo, we’ve talked about interrupting.” Liz comes up and picks Langston up, setting him down on the ground. He immediately throws himself on the couch and grabs one of Pete’s books on the coffee table.

“Oh, hold on, that’s, uh…” Pete throws a panicked look at Liz, who picks it up.

“Leather Men: A –”

“Put it down,” Pete hisses. “I don’t know if the kids are ready for this. Or you, actually.”

Liz starts thumbing through the pages, and he can tell which images she’s on by the way her usually indecipherable expressions shift. “My goodness,” she says, finally looking up at Pete with mischief in her eyes. “What a book to forget out during a party.”

Pete shrugs as best he can while pretending this isn’t weird. “Sometimes you miss a dish in a sink, sometimes you miss sexy men on the counter. What are you gonna do?”

“You find Pete’s hot guys book?” Sofia says, walking in. “Ooh, you’re on my favorite page! Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Dale peers over her shoulder. “Good to know, Sof. Wanna go shopping after this?”

“Okay!” Pete says. “I can’t tell if this is a Tuesday or a Friday, but I can tell this is a really weird conversation for any day of the week.”

Maddie comes in and Cat leaps into her arms. “Don’t blame Pete for that one,” Maddie giggles, steering Cat out of eyeshot of the pages. “That book’s actually mine,” she says. “Oh! My favorite page.”

“Oh, god, now I know your girlfriend and my wife have the same taste in men,” Dale mutters. “I don’t know what to do with this information.”

“Dinner’s ready, by the way,” Maddie interrupts. “Me, Dale, and Kingston just finished up. Dale was supposed to tell you, but I think he got…” She looks down at the book. “Distracted.”

“Mommy Daddy?” Al asks, still attached to Pete’s leg. She’s rubbing her face against the corduroy, and Pete feels vindicated by the overalls he’d gotten her for Christmas.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Maddie says. She settles Esther and Ricky should be back from the bodega right – ” The buzzer on their door goes off. “Now.”

“We should show Esther this guy,” Sofia says. “He looks a little like Ricky.”

“We’re back!” Ricky says. “Did I hear my name?”

“Mommy Daddy!” Al exclaims. She scrambles over. “Dinner now.”

“Thank god,” Pete says. “Please remove me artificially from this conversation. Any way.”

“Sure, baby.” Maddie expertly plucks the book out of Liz’s hand and fluidly chucks it on the top of the bookcase. Pete would drop to one knee right now, but she made him promise to wait until the holidays were over. He got the ring, though. Kingston helped him. It’s in his bedside drawer.

Kingston gets the door for Esther and Ricky. They all sit around the table, a glorious buffet of varied treats decorating the giant piece of butcher paper Pete had had the kids decorate earlier.

“I like,” Al says, on top of Ricky’s lap. He hadn’t had a chance to put down the Kraft Mac and Cheese he’d gotten, because Al can be rather picky at times, but she grabs it. “Wait. Daddy, this not right.” She stares at it. “In box.”

“We have to make it first, kiddo,” Ricky says. He kisses her on the top of her curly head. “Give it, like, twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” Cat asks. She turns her eyes on Sofia. “Can I have some too, Mommy?”

“You are obsessed with Auntie Maddie’s dumplings, short stack,” Sofia says. She plants Cat next to her in a chair, and Ricky places Al right next to her. “You don’t need mac and cheese.”

“And I made extra special ones for both of you, if you want to try it, Al.” Maddie says. She puts down plates of kid-friendly snacks in front of the two of them. “If you don’t like it, we’ll have the mac and cheese ready for you.”

Al claps her hands together, but looks down at the plate with disgust. “No is orange,” she says firmly. “I like orange.”

“Give me two seconds,” Maddie says. “Pete, come help me.”

“Come – what?”

Maddie nods to the kitchen and he follows her. “What’s up?”

“I had an…idea,” she says. “Look.” She removes the lid from the steaming second set of dumplings. They’re neon orange. “Do you think Al might like them?”

“I mean,” Pete says, peering in. “They’re orange. She only eats orange stuff. This could do it.”

“I didn’t want to, like, overstep,” she says. Her brow is furrowed. Pete resists the urge to kiss it away. “But I figured…well, dumplings are a lot of the things she likes in Hamburger Helper. And I lowered the level of flavor to be more kid friendly. You think she might like it?”

Pete nods. “I mean, go for it. She doesn’t want to try what she already has. She doesn’t have any allergies. I say show it to Ricky and Esther, and if they say yes, then offer it to her.”

Maddie presses her lips together. “Will you try it?” She steps up closer to him. “For me?”

“I’d do anything for you,” Pete says, and he almost winces. But then he sees the smile on Maddie’s lips, and he relaxes. “But, yeah. I’ll try the dumplings.”

Expertly, she picks one steaming, perfect, neon orange dumpling up with chopsticks and offers it to Pete’s lips. He gently takes the dumpling into his mouth, and chews. “Okay, yeah,” he mumbles, “this is good. It’s like your normal stuff, but, like, not so spicy it’s trying to kill me.”

“It’s called microdosing,” she says, and she leans in and kisses his nose. “I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

“You’re mean and I like it,” Pete says. He licks his lips. “So, uh, do we have time – ”

“We do not,” Maddie laughs. But she steps into his space as he throws an arm around her waist and drags her in. He lays the kiss of the century on her lips, but briefly. He doesn’t need to make things awkward for everybody else.

“Oh, hello.”

Too late.

Maddie and Pete pull apart. “Pay no attention to the nerds behind the curtain,” Maddie says, grinning at Kingston. “We’re just getting orange dumplings for Al.”

“Orange dumplings, huh?” Kingston asks. “That’s a good idea. Introduces her to new foods without damaging boundaries.” He smiles at her. “You’re good at this, Maddie.”

Pete watches Maddie beam in a way he’s never seen. “Thanks, Kingston,” she says, and it’s a strange tone from her Pete will have to ask about later. He wonders if she’s had some of the same ideas he’s had. If she’s thinking of their future as much as he is.

“Hey, hi,” Cody says, “they sent me in here to interrupt whatever’s going on because none of them value my sanity, I guess. I understand. But do you need any help? Not fire or boiling water related, after last time.”

Pete snorts. “Yeah, that was impressive.” He turns to Maddie. “What do you think?”

“Let’s give it a whirl.”

Pete walks up behind where Cat and Al are still sharing a seat as he makes eye contact with Esther. “Orange dumplings,” he mouths, as he gestures toward the plate. Cody comes in animated, the perfect distraction even if Pete’s not sure it was intentional or not.

Esther frowns for a second, and then opens a messaging channel. “What the fuck? We’re magic.”

“Orange dumplings,” he replies in his mind. “Because Al likes orange, right?”

She smiles at him, a hand on her heart. “Was this your idea?”

He shakes his head. “This was all Maddie.”

“Try it,” Esther says. “I think it’ll work.” She ends the message. “Oh, Maddie, what do you have there?”

“I have some special orange dumplings for a very special girl.” Cat looks at Maddie, brow furrowed. “Sorry. Two very special girls.”

“And me,” Langston says. “I’m a special boy.”

“Langston, baby, give the girls, like, three seconds,” Liz says, smiling as she adjusts his braids over his shoulder.

Cody leans over. “You’re a very special boy, kiddo. Don’t worry.”

The whole room holds their breath as Al examines the dumplings. Maddie has put them on an entirely different, third plate. Cat grabs two of them in her hand and puts them on her plate, eating eagerly. She’s still getting the hang of a fork. Cody called it her weapon of choice once. But Al is watching them, suspicious.

“For me?” she asks. She turns giant brown eyes up at Maddie.

“All yours, kiddo,” Maddie says. “Would you like to try one?”

The whole room holds their breath as Maddie watches Al. Al stares at the dumplings. They all stare at Al.

“I would like to try one,” Al says, singsong, and reaches out to take a dumpling. “It is orange?”

“It’s orange just for you kids,” Maddie says.

“Orange for you kids,” Al says, affirmatively. She takes the tiniest bite. “Orange.”

Maddie nods. “Orange.”

Al takes another bite. And then another. And then the dumpling is gone. Maddie silently takes another dumpling and puts it in front of Al, who eats it.

“Orange,” Al says again. “I like.”

“I am so glad you like it,” Maddie says, and it’s the right level of calm. “If you want any more, I’ll put them all on a platter so you can have as many as you’d like.”

Pete and Maddie find their seats at the table, and conversation starts with Sofia going, “So, has anybody see this YouTuber guy who makes a bunch of different weird sausages? Don’t look at me like that, Ricky, it’s the food kind.”

It’s easy conversation. It’s easy laughter. It’s easy love.

“Are you okay, baby?” Maddie asks, a soft hand on his arm.

“What?” Pete asks. “Yeah. What?”

“You’re all…moist.”

Pete blinks. “Babe.”

“Not like that!” Maddie laughs, and god is it pretty. “No, like. Your eyes. Are you alright?”

“Yeah. What? I’m fine.” Pete rubs at his eyes. “I just love all of you a lot, and I was worried you’d have a hard time becoming part of our family and you did. It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect and that’s scary.”

“You said that, like, mad fast,” Maddie says. She leans in and kisses Pete’s cheek. “Breathe. You’re allowed to have everything go right for you.”

Pete eats in a comfortably uncomfortable silence as the table fills with joy and laughter. Langston regales the entire table with a story of a time Kingston almost got killed by the lawn mower. It happened a year ago, but they all laugh the same as if it was the first time they’d heard it. Sofia and Dale discuss their new house, Maddie teases Esther about her work schedule, and it all feels right.

He sneaks out of dinner while Maddie and Cat are in a serious conversation about the best vegetable to grab the sparkling cider.  There’s a bottle of champagne further in the fridge for Pete and Maddie over New Year’s Eve, but that doesn’t have a place tonight. There’s four bottles in his hands as he brings them out to the table.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he says, pretending his voice isn’t cracking a little bit. “To family.”

“Aw, Pete,” Sofia says, clutching her hands to her heart. “God, aren’t you sweet. Alright. Go ahead. Go ahead.”

He smiles at her, but still reaches down with his free hand to grab Maddie’s.

“Okay, it’s not gonna be long or anything, but I love all of you and I’m excited that Maddie and I have a place where we can, like, host. A family dinner. Party. Thing.” He pauses. “I kind of never thought I’d make it to twenty-five, so now that I’m pushing thirty and I have all of you with me, it’s…it’s a dream.”

Esther snorts.

“Hey!” Sofia says, reaching over the girls in between them to poke her in the arm. “He’s being sincere.”

“He’s making a pun!” Esther says. “Right? Pun?”

“Definitely pun,” Pete confirms. “Anyway. You guys rock and cheers to the new year. We have some rad as hell pies waiting for us.”

“Pies,” Al confirms through a mouthful of dumpling. “I help.”

Pete raises his glass of sparkling cider. “To the best family I could dream of.”

The room is full of clinks, cups of water against cider flutes against cider flutes. “To family.”

~

Mini Playlist (usually saved for my wrestling fics, but hello here have one):

Mixtape for Christmas - Hey Monday

Love in My Heart - Babymonster

Ready - Kelly Clarkson

We Are Family - Sister Sledge

[starsmuse]

i miss ricky and esther so much god i’m starting a prayer circle for tuc3

[strangetorpedos]

okay. ricky meta that i promised <3

his season 2 arc is so fascinating to me because i feel like it was never really about weapons? which i know i’m not the first person to have said/thought this but i think if you really look at it as a metaphor for his life it become so much more and i just. cant stop thinking about it.

so you have ricky, who goes pretty much immediately from high school (and a semester of community college) to being a firefighter without so much as a second thought. he has always wanted to protect his community, and getting his magic & the questing blade was just an extension of that.

but then he gives the questing blade to dale, and he quits the fire station to go to helping hands. which are still two very selfless, community-serving acts, but it’s different now, because ricky made the active choice to give up his old life. this is no longer going straight from high school to firefighting; this is changing your life’s trajectory in two very permanent ways.

and he struggles with his place in the world for a while, and missing the questing blade. he is angry, for the first real time in his life, when the questing blade goes to cody, because it’s a reminder, and a very clear one, that his life is not what it once was, and this feels so permanent. and even when he is able to reconcile that, to know that he no longer needs the questing blade, it still leaves a hole in his life that he can’t quite fill. he’s not a sword guy; and yet, he’s no longer an axe guy either. he’s stuck in this strange, nebulous place, and he’s lost.

until he needs a weapon, until esther’s bat shoots from the attic into his hands in a second. it’s not a perfect fit; maybe no weapon ever will be. but it’s esther’s, the love of his life, and it feels right in a way no weapon has in a long, long time. and maybe it’s not because of the weapon itself; maybe it’s because of the person who once wielded it, the person who he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

the bat is not his weapon, no, but it feels right, because it’s not a weapon at all. it’s a tool. and he fucks shit up; but that’s not what matters. what matters is that he gets esther back, that esther is pregnant, and the bat was just the means to getting his family to him.

and a few years later, he trades that bat for a plastic yellow one, teaching al how to use it in the park, and he thinks maybe the problem is that it was never supposed to be a weapon, but this: a wife and kid he would do anything to protect. he thinks that’s better than any weapon could ever possibly be.

[masculinepeacock]

Hey there! <3 For the angst prompts, number 4 for any d20 peeps, romantic or platonic?

Ricky’s knee was screaming at him, but he ignored the pain. He could do that. He had a task in front of him, a job to do, a person to save. He swung the bat towards the ghost in front of him, and connected it with it’s gut.

It doubled over in pain, and Ricky was quick to bring the bat, crackling with energy, down on the back of the ghost. It disappeared in a flash of light, and Ricky had to look away to avoid being blinded.

After the ghost had disappeared, he took a quick look around the room, and saw that Sofia and Dale had quickly handled the others. Wow, monks really were helpful. Ricky attempted to take a step towards the two of them, then hissed in pain, which made Sofie immediately narrow her eyes at him.

“Are you hurt?” Sofie asked, even if she already knew the answer.

Dale moved closer to Ricky while he answered, “I’ll be fine.”

Sofie’s posture softened and her hands fell off her hips as she followed after Dale, “That’s not what I asked.”

“It hurts a little,” Ricky said, balancing himself on the wall, looking at Dale and Sofie.

“Let’s get you sitting down,” Dale said, and put an arm around Ricky’s waist, helping him to the ground while his leg was still stretched out.

While Ricky appreciated their concern, he really didn’t need it. He’d be fine, he always was.

“Can you walk? I’d be happy to carry you,” Sofie said, hoping it would make Ricky smile.

He gave a quick laugh, and did look up at her to smile, and she quickly bent down to be closer to eye level with him. “But for real, what can we do?”

“I have Lay on Hands,” Ricky said, and then gritted his teeth, ignoring the sweat in his hair. The hit to the knee wasn’t the only one he took. “Do you guys need any?”

Dale gave him a look that Ricky wasn’t sure how to read, “Ricky.”

“What?” Ricky just looked up at Dale who had his arms crossed over his impressive chest, “I’m gonna have to set this first anyway.”

“Oh, gross,” Sofie wrinkled her nose. Dale made an agreeing noise.

After a moment, and after the two had looked away, Ricky did set his own see, and he aggressively blew air out of his mouth instead of yelling or grunting.

“How’d you do that?” Sofie was studying him, and then looked at his knee, as Ricky allowed his own magic to flow through him and to his bruises.

“Do what?”

“Set your knee without screaming.”

He just gave a shrug, “Well I just needed to do it.”

Ricky missed the look Dale and Sofie shared as he leveraged himself off the ground, and gave his knee a shake, Sofie following him up.

“You do that often?” Dale asked.

“Do what?”

“Set your own joints.”

“Not so much anymore,” Ricky wiped some of the sweat off his brow with his shirt. “Don’t fight as much anymore.”

“Ricky…” Sofie said and this time there was no missing the concern.

“I wouldn’t want to worry anyone,” Ricky looked at Dale and willed him to understand. Dale had kept his whole monk thing from Sofia to keep from worrying her. He would understand what he meant. Sometimes you do what needs to get done, and when you get hurt you take care of that too.

Dale just sighed, “At least let us help you home.”

“Yeah of course,” Ricky started walking out of the old abandoned home, noting how bad some of the exits and things were. “Esther would love to see you,” he said to Sofia.

She smiled, but the worried look in her eyes wasn’t gone, “I’d love to see her too.”

[prompt list]

[papermoonloveslucy]

ROUGH ROAD TO TOP

August 16, 1953

(1)

One of the more famous CBS-TV shows is “I Love Lucy.” 

Its two chief characters - Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz - have had a rocky road to their present status as one of the top comedy teams in the country. 

At the end of Lucille's first year in dramatic school she was told by her teachers that she was wasting her time and money, that she would never become an actress. She was fired from all four of her first jobs as a chorus girl. Later, as a model, she almost lost her life in an automobile accident and was told she would never walk again. 

Revolution Factor 

It was a revolution in Cuba and a mishap in World War II which were fateful turns in Arnaz’ trip to stardom. The Cuban revolution destroyed his family’s wealth, drove them to the United States. World War II got him a broken kneecap in basic training, and since he had been a professional entertainer, he was placed in limited service and assigned to entertain hospitalized G.I.s'. 

Columbia Pictures gave Lucille a contract as a stock player, and, convinced that her luck finally had turned, she sent for mother, grandfather, and sister to join her in California. But, the morning after she wired her family, the studio decided to dissolve its stock company. When the family arrived, Lucille was working as an extra at Paramount.

Bit parts and extra roles in a number of pictures kept Lucille busy, but not prosperous, until she was cast in ’"Roberta.” RKO officials, impressed by her work, gave her a contract. When not busy before the cameras, she was a mainstay of the studio's Little Theater. (2)

Offered Stage Lead 

Her performance in the second lead in “The Girl from Paris" (3) drew Broadway's attention to Miss Ball and she was offered a lead in the musical "Hey Diddle Diddle.” After satisfying her yen to perform on the Great White Way (4), she returned to Hollywood for "Stage Door” and “Too Many Girls.” In the latter picture, she was costarred with Desi Arnaz. They were married Nov. 30 1940 in Greenwich, Conn.

Back from her honeymoon, Lucille walked into her first really big break a role in "The Big Street,” based on a story by Damon Runyon (5). Overnight it made her a star. 

Her first assignment at M.G.M. in 1942 was the title role in the Technicolor production "Du Barry Was a Lady” (6). Stellar roles followed in "Best Foot Forward” and "Meet the People" (7). After completing "Easy to Wed” with Van Johnson (8), she headed for New York to be with her husband, then out of the army and on his way to success in the orchestra business. 

Starred on Tour

Shortly after completing "Her Husband’s Affairs,” (9) Miss Ball went on tour as star of Elmer Rice's play "Dream Girl” (10) then worked with Sonny Tufts and Victor Mature in "Interference” for R.K.O. (11)

Lucille, Desi, arid their year-old daughter Lucy Desiree, live at Desilu, their five-acre ranch at Chatsworth, Calif. They raise cattle, chickens, dogs, and cats and dabble in farming. Enthusiastic fishermen they spend a lot of time on their boat.

Desiderio Alberto Arnaz y de Acha was born in Santiago, Cuba, son of the mayor. Desi’s mother, Dolores de Acha, was considered among the 10 most beautiful women In Latin America. 

Three ranches totaling 100,000 acres, a palatial home in the city, a private island in Santiago Bay, speedboats, a fleet of motor cars, and a racing stable were all at the command of the youthful Desi during the pre-revolutionary days. His father, after eight years as mayor of Santiago, was made a member of the Cuban congress In 1932. 

On Aug. 12, 1933, came the revolution. Congress was dissolved. Its members jailed. The Arnaz property was confiscated, the homes burned to the ground. In 24 hours everything was gone except $500 Desi's mother had hidden. Desi and mother fled to Miami, devoted the next six months to efforts to free Papa Arnaz.  from prison. They were finally reunited in Florida.

For Desi, life in these United States for several years was hard but interesting: he worked at truck driving, train yard checking, taxi driving, bookkeeping, and, of all things, bird cage cleaning. Desi’s father managed to launch an importing business. It went broke when a shipment of fruit spoiled in transit.

Show business at this point finally caught up with Desi. His first job was playing guitar and singing with a seven-piece rhumba band at Miami’s Roney-Plaza Hotel (12). Xavier Cugat (13) spotted him, was impressed with this Cuban boy who was to be dubbed "The Tempo” by critics of modem music. After a year as featured vocalist with the Cugat band, Desi organized his own group of musicians and moved into the swank La Conga Café in Miami (14). 

George Abbott's Broadway hit "Too Many Girls” (15) was Desi’s next step up the ladder, in 1939. He played a Cuban football player, one of the leads, and played tropical drums. RKO bought the film rights and signed Desi to play his stage role. When the shooting was over Desi married the leading lady, Lucille Ball.

He spent from Feb. 1943 to Nov. 1945 in the Army, after which he toured the nation with his band playing theaters, dances, night clubs. He hasn’t been without a band since. In 1948, Desi made the Columbia film "Holiday in Havana.” (16)

He made a vaudeville tour with Lucille Ball and that convinced them they’d do well as a husband-and-wife team on television. The tour inspired the CBS-TV show “I Love Lucy,” which has been highly rated since it started. (17)

Desi Arnaz’s personality is as vibrant as the music he makes. He is friendly, direct in manner, has flashing dark brown eyes and brown hair. He’s an avid fisherman, rides and swims expertly: his tennis is the envy of his San Fernando Valley neighbors, Sue and Alan Ladd, Francis Lederer, Jackie Oakie, and the Andrews Sisters. (18) A good cook, he specializes in such tempting dishes as Ginger Beef and Bouillabaisse.

#    #    #

FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) The photo is from “Be a Pal” (ILL S1;E2) aired on October 22, 1951, nearly two years earlier.  There’s one thing missing from this file photo: Vivian Vance. The success of the show was its foursome, not threesome! If you look closely you can see the hands of the other poker players, Richard Reeves (Hank, left) and Tony Michaels (Charlie, right).

(2) Lucille did several plays at the RKO Little Theatre under the direction of Lela Rogers (above), Ginger’s mom.  When Lucille later bought RKO, she dubbed it the Desilu Playhouse, a training ground for new young performers, often hand selected by Ball herself. 

(3) “That Girl from Paris” (not “The” as the article states) was Lucille’s 33rd film. The light-hearted musical romance earned an Oscar nomination for Sound Recording. It was released on the first day of 1937. 

(4) Lucille was indeed cast in the Broadway-bound comedy (it was not a musical, however) “Hey Diddle Diddle!” It opened in Princeton, New Jersey, the first of several out-of-town stops on the way to Broadway.  What Lucille’s publicity omits is that the show never got further than Washington DC due to the serious illness of its leading man, Conway Tearle. So Lucy’s Broadway debut would have to wait - until 1960!

(5) “The Big Street” opened on September 4, 1942. It was based on a Damon Runyan short story about a night club singer (Lucille) embittered by an accident that left her in a wheelchair and her romance with a naïve admirer (Henry Fonda) named Pinks. Lucy later said it was her favorite of the many films she made.  It was her 55th film. 

(6) “Du Barry Was A Lady” premiered in August 1943. It was Lucille’s  57th film, but her first for MGM.  She nabbed the role from her friend Ethel Merman, who had done the Cole Porter musical comedy on Broadway.  It was filmed in color, and was the film that earned her the nickname “Technicolor Tessie” because of her bright orange hair - a color she committed to from then on, despite her roots!  This is the film that introduced Lucy to the song “Friendship”, which she would also sing on “I Love Lucy.” 

(7) In the musical comedy “Best Foot Forward” (1943) Lucille Ball played herself.  It was her 58th film. “Meet The People” (1944) was a romantic comedy for MGM, Ball’s 60th film. 

(8) In 1946 she released her 63rd film, “Easy To Wed” co-starring Van Johnson and Esther Williams. Lucille and Van had appeared together in “Too Many Girls” and he would appear on Lucy’s television shows. 

(9) “Her Husband’s Affairs” (1947) was a romantic farce with Lucy teamed with Franchot Tone. It was her 69th film. 

(10) Back to the stage, Lucille accepted the leading role in a revival tour of “Dream Girl” a fantasy comedy by Elmer Rice. Once again, the play launched in Princeton, but this time Broadway was not the goal. It had already played the Great White Way two years earlier. The play toured the country at select cities, landing Lucille back in California in late 1947. In one SoCal gig she was appearing simultaneously with Desi and his band just a few blocks away.  No doubt this was by design. 

(11) RKO’s “Interference” was re-named “Easy Living” (1949) and dealt with the world of professional sports, namely football. It co-starred Victor Mature and Sonny Tufts. It was Ball’s 71st film. 

(12) The luxurious Roney Plaza Hotel in Miami Beach was located on the corner of Collins Avenue and 23rd Street. It opened in 1925 and was demolished in 1968. The resort attracted a who's who that included Hollywood stars and even the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. The hotel's Bamboo Room & Restaurant was the place to be seen on the Beach for decades.

(13) Xaviar Cugat (1900-1990) was a Spanish musician and bandleader who spent his formative years in Havana, Cuba. A trained violinist and arranger, he was a leading figure in the spread of Latin music. In New York City he was the leader of the resident orchestra at the Waldorf–Astoria before and after World War II.  He was a mentor and friend to Desi Arnaz, who kept his name before the public by making him a rival of Ricky Ricardo on “I Love Lucy” where his name became a punchline. In reality, Desi was grateful to Cugat, not jealous of him! 

“I learned a lot from Xavier Cugat” ~ Desi Arnaz

(14) La Conga Café was located in New York City, not Miami, although the article may be referring to a different, lesser known establishment where Desi Arnaz performed.  He became a regular headliner at La Conga, even issuing a record titled “La Conga” in 1939. 

(15) Speaking of 1939 New York, Desi appeared in his only Broadway show in 1939, Rogers and Hart’s “Too Many Girls.”  When the film rights were purchased by RKO, Desi was hired by director George Abbott to recreate his role. It was while filming this movie that he met Lucille Ball. 

(16) “Holiday in Havana” was a Columbia picture released in October 1949.  The film is about a Cuban hotel busboy (Arnaz) who dreams of becoming a composer.  His love interest was not Lucy, but Mary Hatcher. 

(17) The Tour incorporated some of the same routines seen in the “I Love Lucy” pilot as well as early episodes of the series, most notably the “Cuban Pete / Sally Sweet” duet.  The tour culminated at the Roxy in New York City, where Desi was playing when he married Lucille in 1940. 

(18) Before moving to their Beverly Hills mansion, Lucy and Desi lived on a ranch in Chatsworth in San Fernando Valley. They dubbed their ranch home Desilu.  About their neighbors: 

Alan Ladd (1913-64) was a chorus boy when Lucille was an Earl Carroll showgirl in Murder at the Vanities (1934). He was married to Sue Carol (1906-82) from 1942 until his death. Carol’s name was mentioned on “I Love Lucy” in “The Fashion Show” when Lucy selects the same Don Loper original that Carol has chosen to wear in the fashion show. She does not appear on screen. 

Francis Lederer (1899-2000) was a Hungarian-born actor. In 1960 he did an episode of Desilu’s “The Untouchables”. From 1941 until his death he was married to Marion Irvine. 

Jackie Oakie (1903-78) did four films with Lucille Ball between 1934 and 1938, including both “Annabell” movies. 

The Andrews Sisters were the pre-eliminant close-harmony girl group of their time. The consisted of Patty, Maxine, and LaVerne. They were mentioned on “I Love Lucy” in “Be a Pal” in the same scene that the photo at the top of the article came from. In 1969, Patty Andrews guest-starred as herself on “Here’s Lucy”.  Lucy and Lucie played the other two Andrews sisters. 

[a-vague-yet-menacing-agency]

This is literally because of that one scene but here is how my ideal Sophie/Ricky/Esther would go down:

Because they’re worried about her both Ricky and Esther just start inviting her places. Dinner. Movies. Shopping. But Sophie starts to worry that this sounds date like and she doesn’t want Ricky or Esther to think she’s making a move on the other so she makes sure they are both always there. They get so used to doing things as a couple that Ricky and Esther just start...assuming Sophie will be there when they do actual date activities

Then, I mean, Sophie is hanging out all the time! Of course she should stay with Ricky and Esther! That’s why they have a couch. And this happens so often (because Ricky and Esther always try to catch Sophie when she’s hunting so she’ll be okay mental health wise) that eventually, you know, they clear out a drawer for Sophie, that just makes sense.

ANd then it’s like, they see each other so often? They’re such good friends? Does Sophie really need to sleep on the couch when there’s a bed? After all, Esther and Sophie have platonically cuddled while watching Killing Eve, it should be fine, right?

And if they all sometimes cuddle on the couch that’s normal. And if Sophia wants to sit in the middle that’s only cause she doesn't’ want Ricky to think she only wants to sit beside Esther (because Sophie is definitely not trying to steal Ricky’s girl friend) and it’s only cause she doesn’t want Esther to think she only wants to sit beside Ricky (because she’s definitely not trying to steal Esther’s boy friend)

This goes on for a while: Sophie and Ricky and Esther going out to dinner after work, heading back to the apartment, Ricky taking a shower while Esther wraps her hair and Sophie does paperwork before bed and then Esther and Sophie start to discuss work and isn’t this nice? And then they all go to sleep and wake up and have breakfast and laugh and Sophie is just doing so much better! Esther and Ricky are thrilled for her and they love having Sophie over and it’s just fine, right? And Sophie is like, hey, maybe even if Dale is dead dead, I can still have intimacy! I can still brush hands with Esther when they reach for the same toast, or be handed an extra cup of coffee that Ricky was making or make a funny face when Ox tries to lick inside her mouth while Ricky laughs. It’s nice, right?

And then like, okay, maybe once or twice Ricky was heading out and kissed Sophie goodbye instead of Esther and then caught himself, laughed and never thought about it again. And maybe Esther turns to talk to Sophie on the off day that Sophie’s not there and finds herself missing Sophie, but that’s just gals being pals!

This all culminates when Ricky and Esther both accidentally invite Sophie to their anniversary dinner, but don’t realize the other has done it and are just sweating a little at first but then like! Hey! I’m so glad my partner is cool having one of my best friends here? That’s so nice! Meanwhile, Sophie doesn’t realize this dinner is special except that it’s at a really nice restaurant. Like really nice and Sophie starts to feel vibes but they both asked her here. So maybe they have big news? Ike they’re getting married and they want Sophie to know first and isn’t that sweet even if thinking of them together without her stings a little

Except at the end of dinner the waiter brings out a happy anniversary cake like “oh congratulations to the happy...throuple” and then smiles and leaves and Sophie is like hahaha that’s funny but wait, is this their anniversary?!?! and Esther is like oh shit wait, is this weird but then Ricky is like “hey what’s a throuple” and Esther is like sweating in answer like “it’s you know, like a romantic couple but among all three people.” and then Ricky is like “cool” and they all move on until they are heading to the apartment and Sophie is doing that math girl meme and Esther is like hey! I didn’t spend decades repressing my feelings for that to fail me now and Ricky is like, out loud “hey, are we a throuple?”

And Esther’s like “hmmmmm let’s talk about it tomorrow.” and they go home and prepare for bed and Esther is lounging on the bed doing stuff for the Grammacy Occult Society as Sophie is doing paperwork for the Concrete Fist and Ricky is stretching with Ox and then Sophie is about to crack but Esther blurts out “that was a nice time, right? We all had a nice time!” and Ricky goes “yeah!” and then they just all go to sleep except Ricky like turns to Esther like “do you think Sophie should go in the middle sometimes you’re always in the middle!” and Sophis is about to politely decline and Esther is like “fine! okay! We’re a throuple“ and then Sophie just nods and Ricky says “yeah” and then they go to sleep

[swarmkeepers]

games that zac oyama has played on stream, ranked by how i think ricky matsui would react to jj introducing him to them

just making d&d characters on stream (-10/10): you absolutely cannot convince me that ricky has ever touched a game of d&d. under no circumstances. ricky would also say, “this isn’t technically a game.” 

call of duty (0/10): ricky might be okay at cod, but i don’t think he’d like it very much

diablo 3 & roasting murph, emily, and siobhan (0/10): i find it very funny that diablo 3 doesn’t have a paladin class. definitely no to the backhanded compliments, and hack and slash doesn’t feel like ricky’s style, especially in tuc2

fortnite (1/10): i just don’t think he’d really get it? it’s like exactly the combination of adventure violence and random dancing and just pop culture in general that misses where ricky’s at

fall guys (4/10): potentially a ricky game, it’s cute and nonviolent and also feels like it’d be fun to play with other people which is probably pretty much the only way that ricky plays video games. weirdly good at griefing to help jj and/or esther win, but not super great at winning himself

animal crossing (5/10): this is a tuc2 ricky game in vibes for sure, but he mostly hangs out with the dream team and i just don’t see them playing enough collectively to make island visits a thing (the day that kingston brown owns a switch is the day that the city falls). i’m also not sure this is a jj kind of game so idk how ricky would get introduced to it? maybe he’ll channel the “sketching esther in charcoal” energy towards curating a really cool island though. 

super smash bros (8/10): i think if ricky has any younger cousins at all he gets roped into being absolutely destroyed by them in super smash every family get-together (source: thanksgiving every year with the Japanese-American side of my family. i am very bad at super smash.) he mains kirby. 

celeste (11/10): now this is a ricky game. mental health and near-insurmountable challenges requiring strength, reflexes, and skill? also, zac’s seeming inability to rage when systematically dying and dying and dying again is superhumanly impressive and literally looks so similar to when he’s playing as ricky that this is obviously number one

[teflonsos]

FAMILY TREE: RICKY ALONSO. / @gallaghertasks

PEDRO ALONSO – grandfather. 75 years. pedro almodóvar.

SAMUEL ALONSO – father. 56 years. antonio banderas.

GEORGINA ALONSO – mother. 45 years. paz vega.

ANGELO ALONSO – great uncle. 66 years. jimmy smits.

RICARDO ALONSO – self. 21 years. miguel herrán.

ESTHER ALONSO – sister. 18 years. nicole wallace.

about.

PEDRO ALONSO. “ say what you will about my parents, but...he’s the person that raised me. got me my first car, taught me how to drive, and actually listened to me when i spoke, when i wanted to do things. i know i really disappointed him, so it’s been a while since we’ve talked, but i’m only here because he thinks this new direction will be good for me. i guess i’ve never seen him be wrong about anything before. ” 

SAMUEL ALONSO. “ i’ve never had much of a relationship with my dad. he was almost never home, always on strange, unannounced business trips, jetting off around the world. i never knew much about what he did, only that it was secret...and when i saw him come home one night, covered in someone else’s blood, i knew it wasn’t good either. i only really learned how little he cared about us when esther and i got kidnapped by his buddies when i was fourteen. he can rot in prison for all i care. 

GEORGINA ALONSO. “ i have some good memories of her as a kid, but not much. she’d always complain of a headache, go sit in her room in the dark for hours. all people told me was that she was very sick and that things were hard for her. she has pots and some other stuff, and she was never really well enough to be a mom to us, but every once in a while she’d have these bursts of energy where she’d TRY and that was almost worse than when she didn’t, because she expected things of me she had no right to. she can’t even pretend to know me, and i know it’s not her fault, but...that doesn’t mean it’s good. ” 

ANGELO ALONSO. “ he’s my grandfather’s half-brother, i think, they have a weird relationship. my grandfather never went to blackthorne, but he did, along with my dad. he used to bring us the coolest christmas gifts growing up, like big ass knives and stuff the housekeepers would take away. he’s been missing for like seven years though, dunno what happened to him. ” 

ESTHER ALONSO. “ she’ll tell me it’s fucking sad, but she really is my best friend. we had the big house all to ourselves growing up and we had a lot of fun, though i was always dragging her into my bullshit. she’s definitely the brains out of the two of us, the driven one. ever since she figured out about spy academies, this was her thing, i think she always wanted to right the wrongs our dad did, after what happened to us as kids. and...she worked really hard to get into gallagher whereas i just kind of coasted in at the last minute. i’m glad we’re together, though. i can’t imagine doing this without her. ” 

[adaine]

I know you haven't quite finished it yet but maybe Unsleeping City + 001 for the fandom asks?

i only have the 2 finale eps left god im gonna miss this crew

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: wally bc he’s just so sweet everytime i see him i almost burst into tears. but of the main crew at this pt probably kugrash and sophia bc i’ve really enjoyed their arcs

Least Favorite character: fuck robert moses all my homies hate robert moses

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): sophia/em!!!!, ricky/pete maybe, ricky/esther even tho i thought she was a lesbian until yesterday, sophia/esther, kind of liked kingston/misty when she was misty

Character I find most attractive: i deserve judgement for this but it’s 100% pete ally said he counts microwaved cheese on a plate as a meal and i was like well i can’t not fuck him

Character I would marry: esther we would vibe and she’s hot so!

Character I would be best friends with: i think i could really get along with kingston! i also have a big loving family so i think we would fit right in to each other’s spaces also i want his wisdom!

a random thought: i posted abt this yesterday when i was watching but i kin alejandro complaining abt the hall of heroes being at yankee stadium bc that’s what i would do if it was at wrigley

An unpopular opinion: while i think david’s behavior toward kugrash is 100% warranted (and that it’s not fair for kug to continually call him a ballbuster for his justified anger), I think how he treats wally is pretty inexcusable. like continually talking down to your little brother and dismissing him like yikes dude especially

My Canon OTP: ricky/esther i guess? again i thought she was a lesbian until like last ep but i always thought they had a good friendship and now knowing that she’s not it’s kind of good

My Non-canon OTP: sophia/em women should be able to love woman statues

Most Badass Character: sophia motherfucking lee

Most Epic Villain: robert moses obv

Pairing I am not a fan of: rowan/pete sir you need therapy not to fuck your friend that was a different person a week ago

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): don’t know if i have any yet bc i haven’t seen in the finale. maybe i just wish that kingston got a larger arc than he did because he’s a super interesting character that i felt comparably took a backseat for most of the season

Favourite Friendship: kingston and pete!!!!

Character I most identify with: i don’t feel like im SUPER similar to any of the characters but i guess i’m still figuring out things with my gender so in that respect i relate to pete in a wow maybe this is me sort of way but i honestly don’t know jdsaflkas

Character I wish I could be: kingston has his shit together and confidence to boot i wish that were me!

send me a fandom/ship/character

[cinema-tv-etc]

“Just the facts, ma’am” — “Dragnet” (1951 - 1959) (1967 - 1970)

“Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.” Such a cool opening for one of the most memorable “cop” TV shows of all time. Sgt. Joe  — My name’s Friday. I’m a cop — Friday (Jack Web) and his detective sidekicks (played by Ben Alexander and Harry Morgan) managed to keep us glued to the television with their subtle tactics in apprehending criminals because all they really needed in their quest was... just the facts. So cool. Dum, de, dum, dum! Check out this very cool short video.

“Stifle it, Edith!” — “All In The Family” (1971 - 1979) Archie Bunker (Carroll O’Connor) had a way with words. He called his liberal son-in-law,  “Meathead”and his faithful wife, “Dingbat “ (and he insulted about every stereotype you can name) without getting his hand slapped from the politically correct community. He was so lovable, though, right? Whenever his wife Edith (Jean Stapleton) had an opinion, he managed to stifle her — most of the time. Check out the time she stifled him here.

“Who Loves Ya Baby?” — “Kojak” (1973 - 1978)

Kojak (Telly Savalas) was probably the only New York City detective on TV who made the Tootsie Roll Pop sexy. And, didn’t he start the bald head craze? (OK, Yul Brenner in the “King And I” helped get this trend started).  Who loves Ya, Baby? We do, we do!  (Look here for clip.)

“Good Evening” — Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955 - 1962)

Maybe you had to be there, but no one could grab an audience with an introduction quite like Alfred Hitchcock. His “series of unrelated short stories covering elements of crime, horror, drama and comedy about people of different species committing murders, suicides, thefts and other sorts of crime caused by certain motivations” kept us coming back for more each week. It seems like seven years just wasn’t enough for this film director and his spell-bounding stories.  Take a look at his one-of-a-kind introductions here.  

“Would you believe... “ — “Get Smart”  (1965 - 1970)

“Get Smart” (battling the forces of KAOS) had an embarrassment of riches in the catchphrase department. Maxwell Smart, Agent 86 (Don Adams) kept his co-hort, Agent 99 (Barbara Feldon) and the Chief (Edward Platt) on the tips of their toes every time he opened his mouth. “Would you believe” these words of wisdom: “Missed it by that much!,” “Sorry about that, Chief,” and “I asked you not to tell me that.” Yes, we would believe anything you say, Agent 86. Take a peek at these “Get Smart” funniest moments here.

“To the moon, Alice!” — “The Honeymooners/The Jackie Gleason Show” (1951 - 1959) Who could forget the wild and crazy antics of New York City bus driver Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason), sarcastic wife Alice Kramden (Audrey Meadows), NYC sewer worker, Ed Norton (Art Carney) and his wife Trixie (Joyce Randolph)? These four feisty Brooklyn residents tested each others patience on a daily basis which was the reason millions of viewers tuned in once a week. Needless to say, Alice Kramden knew how to draw blood which is why Ralph gave her the what for... “One of these days, Alice, you’re going to the moon!”   “Just One more thing...” — “Colombo”  (1971 - 2003)

Peter Falk made “Colombo” a household name with his unique way of solving the “whodunit” mystery in this clever television detective show. The Fashion Police would have a field day with this disheveled, cigar-smoking detective. (Oh, that rumpled, beige raincoat... how we loved it.) The criminal always thinks he/she has the upper hand in the investigation only to be caught up in the web of Colombo’s increasingly intrusive presence. Just when the suspect thinks all is well,  the polite detective (who always gets his man/woman), has “just one more thing“ to ask.

“Goodnight, John Boy” — “The Waltons”  (1971 - 1981)

This Great Depression Virginia mountain family sure knew how to grab our hearts. Each episode focuses on the “family of John Walton Jr. (known as John-Boy), his parents, John and Olivia Walton, their seven children, and John’s parents Zebulon “Zeb” and Esther Walton. John-Boy (Richard Thomas) is the eldest of the children (17 years old in the beginning), who becomes a journalist and novelist. In the signature scene that closes almost every episode, the family house is enveloped in darkness, save for one, two or three lights in the upstairs bedroom windows. Through voice-overs, two or more characters make some brief comments related to that episode’s events, and then bid each other goodnight, after which the lights go out.”

“Let’s be careful out there.” — “Hill Street Blues” (1981 - 1987)

“Hill Street Blues“is an American serial police drama that chronicled the lives of the staff of a single police station located on the fictional Hill Street, in an unnamed large city, with ‘blues’ being a slang term for police officers for their blue uniforms.”  In the opening, Sgt. Phil Esterhaus  (Michael Conrad) does the police roll call, concluding with his signature line: “Let’s be careful out there.”

“May God bless.” — “The Red Skelton Show” (1951 - 1971)

“The Red Skelton Show” was mainly known for the comedy sketches performed by Red himself which included an array of comedic characters (Clem Kadiddlehopper, San Fernando Red, George Appleby and Freddie the Freeloader). He also had guest star performers including John Wayne, Phyllis Diller, Jack Benny... the list goes on forever. His opening monologue often included his two favorite seagulls, Gertrude and Heathcliff. At the end of each show, he ended it with thoughts that went something like this.

“Lucy! You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” — “I Love Lucy” (1951 - 1957) That crazy redhead we affectionately know as Lucy Ricardo (Lucille Ball) was never at a loss for words... or hair brained, good-natured mischief. Her cohort, Ethel Mertz (Vivian Vance) was somewhat skeptical at times to play along, but the two BFFs made life interesting for their respective spouses, Ricky (Desi Arnaz) and Fred (William Frawley) to say the least. When Lucy tested Ricky’s patience one too many times, he screamed the only phrase that came to mind (each time): “Lucy, You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” Don’t we all use that phrase ocassionally when we get pissed at our significant others (no matter what gender they are)?

“Yada, Yada, Yada” — “Seinfeld” (1989 - 1998)

Let’s give a big round of applause to Jerry (Jerry Seinfeld), Elaine Benes (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), George Costanza (Jason Alexander) and Cosmo Kramer (Michael Richards) for giving us the best nine sitcom seasons of our lives. Did you know it was actually George’s new girlfriend, Marcy, who came up with the “yada, yada, yada” expression? If you don’t do anything else today, watch this Seinfeld montage.  

“Come On Down!” — “The Price Is Right“ (1956 - 1965) (1972 - Present)

I don’t care how old you are, you have heard — at one time in your life — a game show announcer say, “Come on down!” You know the game show: “The Price Is Right.” And you know the master of all game shows: Bob Barker. The point is, no matter what year you were born, somewhere, on some network, “The Price Is Right” has been on your radar. Unless you live in a third world country. Check out this “Come on down!” video with Bob Barker.

“Sock it to me.” — “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In” (1967 - 1973) The comedy team of Dan Rowan and Dick Martin hosted this psychedelic, fast-moving comedy series that featured series regulars Lily Tomlin, Ruth Buzzi, Judy Carne, Goldie Hawn, Arte Johnson, Jo Ann Worley, Gary Owens, Alan Sues and Henry Gibson. Judy Carne became the butt of the joke when she said, “Sock it to me.” They doused her with water or gently assaulted her with rubber objects. Be careful what you say out there.

“Dy-no-mite!” — “Good Times” (1974 - 1979) “Good Times“ lets us in on the lives of Florida (Esther Rolle) and James Evans   (John Amos) and their three children, J.J. (Jimmie Walker), Thelma (Bern Nadette Stanis) and Michael (Ralph Carter). “Episodes of Good Times deal with the characters’ attempts to survive in a high rise project building in Chicago, despite their poverty” ... and hilarity ensues. Fess up, you know you said the word “Dy-n-Mite!” every time something good happened in your life back in the day, thanks to the adorable J.J. (Although nobody says it better!)

“God will get you for that!” — “Maude” (1972 - 1978)

Who remembers that “Maude“ was a spin-off from “All In The Family?” Yes, Maude (Bea Arthur) was Edith’s cousin —  who  somehow got the spunk gene in the family.  And who remembers that Maude was a “liberal, independent woman living in Tuckahoe, NY with her fourth husband, Walter (Bill Macy)?” And if you didn’t know all that... (say it).

“De Plane, De Plane” — “Fantasy Island” (1977 - 1984)

Picture it: a remote tropical island resort where all your dreams come true. Well, not exactly. There were glitches in those wishes. Mr. Roarke (Ricardo Montalban ), assisted by his adorable miniature side-kick Tattoo (Hervé Villechaize) had the best of intentions of making his guests live out their fantasies, but what kind of show would that be if everything were perfect? You could count on one thing. The beginning of each episode,  a plane arrived with their (we’re presuming rich) guests. Tattoo always alerted Mr. Roarke, by pointing up to the sky, announcing: “De Plane, de plane!” Welcome to Fantasy Island.

“What U Talkin’ ‘bout Willis?” — “Different Strokes” (1978 - 1986)

“Different Strokes” starred Gary Coleman and Todd Bridges (Arnold and Willis Jackson), Conrad Bain (Phillip Drummond) and Dana Plato (Kimberly Drummond) who were perhaps one of the first racially mixed families on television.  Arnold didn’t hold back when Willis came up with some bizarre and/or surprise monologue that got his goat. “What u talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”  Too cute!

“Book ‘em, Danno.” — “Hawaii Five-0” (1968 - 1980)

This may be my all-time favorite detective show based in Hawaii (sorry “Magnum P.I.”). And it may well just be because of one of my all-time favorite detective catchphrases: “Book ‘em Danno.” Detective Steve McGarrett (Jack Lord) worked so well with Danny Williams (James MacArthur) in each episode to put the bad guys in hand cuffs. (And who didn’t love that theme song!? Check it out here and turn the volume up and enjoy!)

“Say the secret word and win a hundred dollars.” — “You Bet Your Life” (TV version, 1950 - 1961)

Groucho Marx was probably the first choice to host this quiz show that featured a show chocked full of competitive questions — and some hilarious conversation. As it turns out, the comedian was the perfect host. As in all quiz shows, there is money to be won. But, with the right “word,” a contestant could win an extra hundred big ones. All they had to do was say the secret word. Easy Not so fast. How many words are in the English language? But we loved to hear Groucho announce: “Say the secret word and win a hundred dollars.” Sometimes they did. And that was seriously exciting.

“Say goodnight, Gracie” — “The George Burns And Gracie Allen Show“ (1950 - 1958)                              

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/catchphrases-classic-tv-shows_b_8142724.html

[deepdisireslonging]

Choices Chapter 6: Days of Rest

Wardlow gives Ricky the day off, who immediately invites Esther to join him. Their date that evening is interrupted by another gang leader and someone that makes Ricky look like he's seen a ghost.

Warnings/Promises: food mention, alcohol, gun appearance

Word Count: 3500

Chapter 5: Meeting After the Meeting 

Saturday, February 23, 1929

Bridgeport Township

Despite the tea indulgence the night before, coffee was in order the morning after. Even when working at Howls, Esther had never managed to work herself up to a hangover.

This must be what it feels like. And this is why Shabbat starts at nightfall the evening before; so you’re not exhausted for the day of rest.

The sunlight streaming between her curtains forced her to squint through most of getting dressed. Like sugar through molasses, she tried to get herself together. She was tempted to stay in her house shoes to go down for breakfast, but decided against it at the last minute. Also on her befuddled mind, was the mystery of who carried her to bed. The safe answer would have been Joe or Mr. Spears. And while Ricky would have huffed and puffed though carrying her with his injured ribs, she really hoped he hadn’t.

She wasn’t sure how to feel with the knowledge that is had probably been Wardlow carrying her up.

Stumbling into the wall, she would have tripped down the stairs if Mr. Spears hadn’t caught her arm.

“Was that actually tea in your cup last night,” he asked, guiding her, “or did Mrs. Anne slip you a hot toddy?”

“It was tea.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs where the breezeway was already open. Ares was waiting for her, gruffing at her until she knelt to give him his morning greeting. Spears nodded knowingly as she rested her head against the wall. “Late nights will do that to ya.’ You’ll get used to them. Other than that, how’d you sleep?”

She grinned. “I didn’t know I was asleep until I woke up this morning.”

“That good? Well- how about some victory breakfast for surviving yesterday?”

The kitchen occupants were moving in a sluggish fashion like Esther. A few of them had short glasses for a bite of the dog. A phrase that usually cost you a scramble of egg from Ares if he heard you. Ricky was hunched over his cup of steaming coffee like it was a life raft. He at least looked rested, and halfway still asleep.

Joe and Wardlow apparently hadn’t slept a wink. Alert as ever, Joe was still a few extra seconds in noticing Esther entered. He eyed Wardlow out of the corner of his view, knowing what she saw would worry her. The boss was, again, looking over Esther’s notes. Her notebook was open on the icebox by the window, which he was leaning against. In his hand was her card list. His eyes, shadowed by dark bags underneath, flicked back and forth between the clusters of information. His breakfast, two pieces of buttered burnt toast and a cup of coffee, were untouched.

“Mornin’, ma cher.” Ricky gave her a nod. He was sitting at the only table in the room. Esther felt guilty taking the only remaining chair while everyone else hazarded to sway on their feet. But she took it. He reached over, giving her hand a squeeze and her knuckles a kiss before rising to his feet. “Let me grab you a plate. Toast and eggs, right?”

“Yes, please.”

“Coffee?”

She nearly moaned with delight. “Yes. Just milk, if there is some.”

“Of course.”

He was off like a shot, darting from one side of the kitchen to the other. All while dodging the other crewmembers who glared at him if he bumped into them too much. If she hadn’t known about his injuries, she would have never known by watching him.

She glanced at the window-side of the room. “Morning, Mr. Joe. Mr. Wardlow.” She tried smiling when he finally looked up.

“Good morning, Miss Garnier.” His gaze lingered, but slid back to the papers. The small sip of coffee made him wince at its coldness. Clearing his throat, he sat down his cup. “Is this everyone?”

Ricky slid into his seat, passing Esther her plate.

Joe grunted.

With a deep exhale, Wardlow finally laid the notes to one side. “All things considered, yesterday was a success. We got a lot of information. Which is just what we were looking for. The attack last night raised a few new questions, but we’ll riddle them out soon. Starks-”

“Yeah, Boss.”

“Got a few things for you to look into in a few days. But rest up before.”

With a smirk, Ricky sipped his coffee. “I’m starting to resent being your point guard.”

“Take it as a compliment that you’re so good.”

“Then you really don’t mind if I slack off?”

“Not at all. The next few days are yours.”

“Great.” He immediately turned to Esther. “What plans do you have tonight?”

She stammered, “whatever you’re doing. I guess.”

Wardlow, leaning back, tapped his thumb against the top of the icebox. The tilt of his head, paired with the crease in his brow, created a dark cloud over his features. He breathed it away. “You’ve done an excellent job, Miss Garnier. I hope you enjoy your evening. Don’t let anything happen to our best girl, right, Starks?”

“I thought you just said I was so good?” Ricky pouted.

Esther giggled, and shot Wardlow a wink. “You’re good,” she said to Ricky, “but I’m excellent.”

Again, Wardlow had to breathe away his reaction. But he still passed his thumb across his bottom lip. “She’s got a point.” His smile momentarily broke through before he set his shoulders and returned to business. “As for the rest of us, we will be delivering Miss Garnier’s notes to our associates. Don’t take chances but keep your eyes peeled. Some of their stories aren’t lining up, and anything extra you notice should help.” He pushed off the icebox to his feet. “Joe will assign you your territories in an hour.”

As he left, Joe glanced at the untouched toast and cold coffee. Esther could have sworn she saw him smile and shake his head, but he flicked open that morning’s paper over his face, blocking her view. The front page was covered in stories about the attack at Eighth and Vine, and also two other attacks. And one small square of text about some funding for a new hospital wing.

“So, where would you like to go tonight?” Ricky scooted back his chair. “Do you like Italian, or are you a strictly Matza ball soup kinda girl?”

“I do like certain dishes. But I take it you haven’t found a Creole place up here?”

He scrunched up his nose. “Nah. I don’t think my crawfish and gumbo would be kosher for you anyway. Haven’t found any beignets yet either. But cannoli are an okay second.”

They continued to make plans while the rest of the crew finished their breakfast. Mrs. Anne was observing the Sabbath, so there weren’t any chores she’d let Esther help with. She took it upon herself to create a cozy space in the parlor. Armored with blankets, a lot of tea that Spears made for her, and a crackling fire stoked by Joe before they left, she happily read the day away with a book. Her mind traveled far away from Chicago. Instead of her own adventurous life, she let the adventures of David Levinsky take over her afternoon till dark.

At four-thirty, Esther went up to her room to change into something nice. The sun went down during her preparations. Promptly at six, Ricky was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes lit up as she turned the corner to the first few steps. She took her time descending, reveling in the shiver his gaze gave her.

It’s like he knows what I look like without my slip on.

The easy flirting was interrupted by a young team member, Dante Martin, thundering down the stairs. He squeezed by with a quick, ‘scuse me,” and barely a glance at Esther. Halfway down the steps, he froze. And turned, making Esther’s face warm. Martin whistled and waggled his eyebrows at Ricky. “Have fun, kids,” he said on his way past Ricky. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“I’ll make my own luck, thank you.” Ricky exchanged soft false punches with the young man. “Stay outta trouble, yeah?”

“Me?” Martin glanced once more at Esther as she reached them. “I should be telling you that.” He headed toward the kitchen.

Alone again, Esther nodded after him. “Nice young man. Is he new too? I haven’t seen him much.”

“He’s on loan from some ally or another. One of the information runners between companies until this Dealer gets shuffled out.” He held up his elbow. “Shall we?”

Esther smiled. “Let’s.”

\\*//

Giovanni’s, Neutral Territory

A short while later, Ricky pulled the car (one not riddled with bullet holes) into an available spot in front of the restaurant. The afternoon was already dark as night, giving the warm glow for shops and eateries a friendly brightness as the light poured into the street. They each welcomed in passerby’s. Even the herbs used in the cooking drifted into the street every time the doors opened. Esther took a big whiff, tugging her coat tighter around her. The crisp air made the restaurant seem all the warmer.

Before Ricky could reach for the door, another hand opened it. “After you.”

“Thank you.” Esther gave the man a smile, then bumped into Ricky.

He was frozen in place. Like he’d seen a ghost. Esther’s confusion melted away into terror as Britt Baker stepped into view. She looked like any girl out on the town, dressed in her best dress and hair waved to perfection. If Esther hadn’t seen her brandish a knife just a day ago, she would have believed the innocence on display.

She smiled warmly at Esther and dipped her head to Ricky. “Fancy meeting you here.” She glanced at her companion, who held his hand out to Ricky.

He took it, hesitation twinged with accusation. “Yeah. Fancy that.”

The man took his hand back. He wiped it on his sleeve and coat front as if ridding his skin of a layer of oil.

Baker sucked her teeth at him. “Be polite.” Turning her attention back to the pair, she introduced him. “You’ll have to forgive Mr. Cole. Adam’s been busy with work lately and I’m just now re-introducing him into society. Now let’s all get inside out of the cold.”

It surprised Esther how gentle Baker was with this man. She let him open the door for her. As she walked in, her dress glittered and softly swished around her knees. Cole’s hand rested easy on her lower back as he guided her inside. It was a sharp difference from the way Ricky’s hand twitched at the base of Esther’s spine. He kept an urgent eye on the bustling restaurant in front of them, and on the brave walkers outside. He bristled further as Baker requested a table for four. His unease began to rub off on Esther as the consignor took their coats.

They were led to a booth in the back corner. Ricky maneuvered so he could guide Esther into the inside seat facing the room. But Baker slid in next to her. Adam shrugged when he grit his teeth, taking the inside of the opposite seat. Esther realized that while Ricky would at least have the outside, good for a quick exit, he wouldn’t be able to see the front door. And she was blocked in by Baker.

“So,” Ricky slid into his seat, smoothing down the lapels of his vest, “where’s your entourage tonight?”

“My husband and I wanted a night to ourselves.”

Esther startled. “Husba- but I thought- if you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Baker. I thought you were a-well…”

“A widow?” Baker fidgeted with the bracelet peeking out from under her sleeve. “Yes. A rumor I am happy to squash. And please, we are friends here. Call me Britt. As for the entourage, Adam and I are enough. I would ask you the same question. You have any back-up nearby, Starks?”

“I’ve got us covered.” He patted his vest, smoothing down the fabric enough to show the bulge of his handgun.

Britt rolled her eyes. “That’s comforting.” She turned to Esther. “Open your purse.” When Esther hesitated, she chuckled. “I have a gift for you. How bad could it be? There’re so many people around.”

Hands shaking, Esther placed her purse on the edge of the table and popped open the top. She gasped as Britt brandished a small pistol from her dress pocket, and dropped it in. Across the table, Adam ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly.

“Jesus, Britt. Could you be any more obvious?”

She winked at him. “I probably could. But who’s going to say anything?” Her gaze swept across the room, daring any witnesses to make eye contact. “Everyone knows who we are.”

“That’s what we’re concerned about.” Adam leaned back in his seat as a perky waiter showed up to take their order.

Britt ordered for all of them. It made Adam smile in amusement, while Ricky griped the edge of the table like he wished it would crumple easy as paper. But Esther was impressed. Their unlikely host had ordered exactly what she wanted.

“I’m a good read of people. And their habits.” Brit thanked the waiter as he dropped off a wine bottle with glasses, and small glasses of water. “I figured Starks would be here, as a respite for a job well done for your boss. I hoped he would bring you with him.” She nudged into Esther’s shoulder. “And I’m glad he did.”

Ricky flashed a smile at Adam, full of alligator teeth. “So, now that we’re all armed and friendly, what piece did you bring to dinner?” He watched Adam smooth his knuckles over the center edge of his vest. “No. That’s right. You’re not a fan of bullets. You’re more of a knife guy. Good for target practice between shoulder blades.”

“You would know. You were my biggest competitor in the role.”

Esther felt Britt’s boot flash out. If she connected with her husband’s shin, he didn’t show it more than a flirting wink at his wife.

The purse at Esther’s side radiated danger. It set her teeth on edge. After clearing her throat, her voice still came out strained. “While I appreciate the gift, Mrs. Baker,” she paused to catch her breath again, “I really can’t accept it. How would you like me to – uh- return the umm, the-”

“Nonsense, dear. Keep it, please. In this line of work, you’ll need it. Chicago is a dangerous place for women like us. We have to look out for one another.”

Jade Cargill’s disdain for Britt’s “help” drifted through Esther’s mind like a waft of spices. Vibrant and unavoidable as burnt cardamon, but soon gone and forgotten.

Britt set her gaze on Ricky. “You’ll especially need it around him. Mr. Starks attracts trouble. I should know. I’ve given him the business a few times. By the way, have your knees recovered?”

“They’re just fine,” Ricky replied through teeth gritted into a sharp smile.

“Good to hear.”

Adam snorted. “And you’re telling me to behave.” His blue eye glittered as Britt flirted him a pseudo-sneer.

Their food arrived. Steaming and spiced to perfection, the barely hidden animosity melted away. The conversation drifted around the weather, and lack of snow. The residual cold. And they chatted about the construction projects around the city. No one wondered or revealed who may or may not have been involved in those constructions. Or their funding.  And, between bites, Esther noted all she could. How Adam kept his left hand always close to his waistcoat. His wife kept the conversation flowing, but her gaze would flick towards the door and restaurant’s occupants every few seconds. Esther had to keep her hands from shaking every time she lifted her fork to her mouth. As for Ricky, he avoided the wine. It was surely brought to the table to show that Baker was not afraid to purchase and drink alcohol in the open. If she wasn’t afraid of arrest, then she wasn’t afraid of anything Ricky could do. Out of politeness, he would bring up the glass for a sip, but not a drop passed his lips. He sat it on the outside of his plate so that the reflection in the glass gave him a similar view of the room as Britt. Which he checked often.

When the plates were cleared away, Ricky was further perturbed when their host took the cheque.

She grinned at Esther. “Consider it another welcoming present to the business.” She stood first, activating everyone’s movement towards the door.

Not to be outdone this time, Ricky was first to the door. He opened it with a flourish. But Adam passed through next, shutting it behind him and closing Esther into the restaurant with his wife. Ricky began to protest, but Adam’s calm voice, muffled by the door, said something that held Ricky in rapt attention.

“So,” Britt adjusted the scarf around her neck, “why are you here?”

The words caught in Esther’s throat before tumbling out. Wardlow and Joe’s warning hadn’t prepared her nearly enough. “Tonight? We both had the night off and Ricky suggested-”

“No. You know what I mean.”

She took another breath, looking through the door. Ricky was in quiet conversation with Adam, his brow creased. “By accident, I assure you. It’s all happened so fast-” She startled as Ricky caught her watching him. His eyes flicked toward Britt, noting their conversation, and his frown deepened. “Um, so fast, that I don’t understand how myself.”

Britt hummed. “Yes. This life can spring on you.”

Outside, Adam stepped in front of the door. It blocked both parties from viewing the other. And prevented Ricky from bursting in.

“It’s been wonderful to finally make your acquaintance,” Britt continued. “When I received a copy of your notes… I was very impressed, I have to say. You’ll be wasted with Wardlow.”

“What’s it to you?” Esther shivered as Britt’s eyes flashed with irritated surprise. “That is… I have a roof over my head, and I’m making good money. I appreciate your looking out for me. But you needn’t worry about me. I am well taken care of.”

“I’m sure.”

Esther held her breath as she mirrored Britt putting on her gloves.

“If you ever change your mind, just come here and tell Lucas.” She nodded at their waiter, “and he’ll get word to me to pick you up.”

“But I thought this- but I thought this was neutral territory?”

“It is. Means it’s a good place to hide out if you’re ever in trouble.” She pushed lightly on the door, moving Adam so they could exit. “This was nice. We should do this again sometime. Perhaps when it’s warmer.”

Adam offered Britt his arm. He nodded at the other man. “Until next time, Ricky.”

“Until next time.”

The couple walked down the sidewalk into the night. Their bodies, close in familiarity and  against the cold, passed in and out of the lightened shop fronts like illuminated shadows.

Ricky lightly placed his hand on Esther’s lower back, walking her to the car. He opened her door but held lightly onto her arm. “What was that about?”

“Nothing of consequence.” Esther’s heart threatened to thunder into her throat.

Ricky swallowed hard. “Did she offer you a job?”

Now she had to smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was enough for him to let her sit down. And for his cheeks to shine with more than the cold when sat in the driver’s seat. He motioned for her purse. She popped it open so he could easily pull the gun out. When it was in his hands, he let it rest. Esther assumed he was testing the weight and seemed familiar with its type. He blinked rapidly. Glancing around first, he dropped it back into her bag.

“It’s a good piece. I hope you never get the opportunity to use it.” Despite the warning, a smirk tugged at the side of his mouth. He whistled as he guided the car into the night’s traffic. “You’re moving faster than me, Cherie. If I’m not careful, you’ll bypass my plans.”

“What plans could you possibly have?” She laughed high and free, finally feeling like she could breathe again now that it was just the two of them. She leaned back in her seat as he maneuvered deftly between other cars. “Why can’t we all stay where we are?”

“Wardlow’s not going to keep me around forever. We’ve talked. I’ve got plans, big ones. Plans where I get to say where I go and how I spend my days.” He drifted into silence. “But those are a long way off. Gotta stick around to see what all you’ll accomplish first.”

They rode home amused by the surprise hosts and amused by each other’s company.

\\***//

Chapter 7: Secrets and Threats

[parkerrogersgirl]

Tempting Fate- Chapter 9

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 1,438

Warnings: swearing, cuteness, SMUT!

A/N: Hey, y’all! @sonofadeanwinchester and I decided it’d be cool if we wrote a series together. SO, HERE’S CHAPTER 9! Please, please, please give us feedback. Feedback is the glue that keeps the writers together. We need the feedback. Send either of us an ask, and we’ll just send each other screenshots. Or you can send it to both of us. Thanks, lovelies.

You leave Magic Kingdom, sleeping on Sebastian the whole way back. You wake up in his arms as he carries you inside. He sets you on the bed, pulling off his shirt and shorts and tossing them on the floor. He gets in bed with you, pulling you close to him. You kiss him softly, not wanting to push him if he was too tired. He kisses back, deepening the kiss as he slides his hands under your shirt.

“I think we should go slow this time, baby.” Seb says, “I want to show you how much I love you.”

You nod and he pulls your shirt off, and your shorts are next. He slowly, carefully slides off your panties, kissing you as he reaches down, a finger stroking your clit. “You’re so ready for me,” he whispers in your ear, eliciting a moan from you. He slides two fingers in, slowly pumping them inside you.

“Seb,” you moan in his ear, closing your eyes.

“Say my full name, baby,” he says, still moving his fingers, adding a stroke of your clit with his thumb.

“Sebastian, please,” you whimper, desperate for more. “Please what, (Y/N)?” “Make love to me, Sebastian.”

He lets out a groan, quickly sitting up to remove his boxers, then leans back over you, teasing your entrance with his erection. “Seb, please. I need you.”

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you roughly as he slips inside you. He thrusts slowing, dragging himself in and out of you. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to take it slow, you think to yourself.

This wasn’t just sex, though. This was you completely giving yourselves to the other, trusting them with this. This was the definition of lovemaking. You know you and Seb truly love each other, and you know just how special and powerful this is. Sure, you’d had sex the other night, but that was different. This was slow, sensual, and passionate. This was what you’d longed for with him. This closeness, this intimacy. This is what you’d always wanted.

He nibbles on your neck and he starts to roll his hips, hitting your spot. You let out a loud moan, knowing that you won’t last much longer if he keeps this up. You wrap your legs around his waist and it’s a completely different angle. Seb groans loudly, and you know he’s close. He rolls his hips harder, still maintaining a slow pace. Your breathing speeds up as you orgasm, looking into Sebastian’s eyes as he finishes with you.

He kisses you deeply, pulling out while still laying on top of you. You stroke his face with your hand, kissing him back. He flops on the bed next to you, laying on his side to look into his eyes. He places an arm around your waist, looking into your eyes. “I’ll never love anyone else as much as I love you.”

“Oh really?” You say with a smirk. He nods seriously, “of course. Because I’ll never love anyone other than you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You blush, kissing him softly, “is that so?”

He grins, “of course. That’s been my plan since the day I met you.”

“Class, please welcome our newest student, Sebastian.” Mrs Crawford glanced at Sebastian and nodded. “Would you like to tell us about yourself?”

He shook his head. “No thank you.”

A kid piped up in the back. “Ha! New kids got a freaky little accent.”

I swung around in my chair and gave him a dirty look. “I like his accent.”

The fat kid rolled his eyes. “Leave it to (Y/N) to like a freak. Takes one to know one.”

I smirk. “You would know, wouldn’t you? You and your freaks.”

Mrs Crawford shook her head. “Now stop that mean talk. Sebastian, please go take a seat next to (Y/N).” He smiled at her and walked slowly to the seat beside me. “Now, let’s continue on page number thirty five in our social studies book.”

Sebastian sat beside me and huffed. I watched him take his history book out and mutter to himself quietly. “I’m (Y/N).”

He smiled. “I’m Sebastian.”

“Your accent’s cool.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. That kid thinks I’m a freak.”

“Fat Tommy? Don’t listen to him.” I chuckled. “I think it’s cool.”

“Thanks.” He smiled again and turned his eyes to the teacher.

“Where are you from?”

He cleared his throat. “Romania.”

“Where’s that?”

He pointed at the map at the front of the classroom. “Europe.”

“Why did you move all the way from Romania to Los Angeles?”

He sighed and shifted in his seat. “I don’t know. My mom moved us here for work.”

“That’s cool.”

The bell rang overhead of us and Mrs. Crawford dismissed the class. “‘Remember that you all have a test tomorrow.”

Sebastian slowly gathered his things, shoving them into his backpack. Fat Tommy came up behind him. “Where do you think you’re going, freak?”

He cleared his throat again. “Lunch.”

Tommy winked and shook his head. “No freaks allowed.”

I stepped between them and sighed. “Tell me this, Tommy. Why do you and your friends get seats? This is a no pets zone. Guess you’ll have to take little Rickie and Sammy outside for pee and poopie.”

Tommy shook his head. “Why are you sticking up for this freak?”

“Because the only freak here is you, Tommy. No eight year old should weigh a hundred pounds.” He punched his fist into his hand. “Let’s go, Sebastian. I’ll show you where the lunch room is.”

“You’re gonna wish you never said that, girl.” Tommy yelled after us.

I sighed and shouted over my shoulder. “Exactly, I’m the girl. You already have bigger boobs then my mom. I’ll get you a bra for your birthday.”

You awake the next morning to an empty bed, confused as to where Sebastian is. You put on a pair of pants and a hoodie, going downstairs. You see your boyfriend in the kitchen at the stove, and the smell of cinnamon is wafting all around the house. You quietly sneak up behind him, hugging him from behind.

“Good morning, Sebby,” you say, and he takes the pan off the burner before turning to kiss you. You smile into the kiss, and he lifts you up onto the counter. You giggle, still kissing him.

He pulls away, grinning at you. “Good morning, indeed,” he says with a wink.

He turns back to the stove, putting several pieces of French Toast and scrambled eggs on a plate and bringing it to the table. You get off the counter, going to sit down at the table. “I really, really missed your cooking, Sebby.”

He sits down with you, kissing you softly, “well, hopefully, you’ll get it every day for the rest of your life.”

You blush, putting some toast and eggs on your plate. Sebastian had always been an incredible cook, and one thing you’d missed the most in the last five years was his cooking. He knew what you wanted without him ever having to tell you, and that was one of the things that had always stuck out to you the most during your relationship. You take a bite of the French Toast, smiling at him.

“I can only spend the rest of my life with you if I don’t elope with this toast.”

He laughs and starts eating, and you realize you wouldn’t mind hearing that glorious laugh forever.

You finish eating and get ready for another Disney day, opting for a pair of jeans and an Avengers t-shirt. Seb wears jeans and a plaid long-sleeved shirt since it’s a chilly day. By the time you get to Hollywood Studios, you realize just how stupid not having a jacket is. Sebastian notices you shivering and takes off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. You slip it on and take his hand, bringing it up to your lips to kiss it.

You enter the park and start walking down Hollywood Boulevard, and your parents tell you and Sebastian to spend the day together and they’ll meet up with you later.

Like the child he is, he drags you straight over to the Indiana Jones show. You sit on the hard seats, looking over at Seb. The second Indy’s theme comes on, he’s grinning, and you can tell that it’s been much too long since he came to Disney. “I’m SO excited. This is my favorite.”

You smile at him, kissing his cheek softly.

“What was that for?”

“You, Sebastian. You’re adorable.”

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[deepdisireslonging]

Choices Chapter 4: Bull Session

The day of the Bull Session arrives. Esther finally gets to meet the leading gangsters, and sees several unpleasant familiar faces. One in particular does his best to steal her away for himself.

Warnings/Promises: alcohol, guns and knives (seen and used), attempted assault

Word Count: 6800

Chapter 3: Learning and Healing

Friday, February 22, 1929

Bridgeport Township

The days quickly developed into a routine schedule. Breakfast in the kitchen by eight, checking in with Ricky by eight thirty. Despite her chagrin, he was up and about by Wednesday. Next, she would knock on Wardlow’s office door by nine. Esther wasn’t sure how early the boss came down, or even where his room was in the house, but he was already in his high back desk chair and deep into paperwork each morning. The circles under his eyes darkened, worrying her. Ares sat closer and closer to the desk during the notetaking sessions. But Wardlow promised to knock himself out by six in the evening Thursday night, so he’d be rested enough for the Bull Session. Until then, she did her best to memorize who was whom, and who ran what chunk of the Chicago blocks.

Joe finally had a chance to show her the safe in her room, and how to get into it. As part of his attempt to readjust to walking, Ricky wandered in to help too. When Esther could get in and out without help, he nodded.

“One of these days, I need to get one for Spears.”

Ricky pouted. “He’s got one.”

With a snap, Joe grinned. “That’s right.” He shrugged at Esther. “They switched rooms a few months ago, but I remember people with their combinations. Not the rooms. It’s easier for me.”

“That’s a lot to remember, either way.” She studied the numbered knob that would hide perfectly behind some paneling above her bed. “I could never remember so much.”

“Just worry about the safe you got, and you’ll be fine. Let me worry about the rest.”

That was the last calm moment Esther had all week.

Invitations went out. And replies were received.

Mr. Jim still had to kick Wardlow out of his office at ten on Thursday night.

Then, before she knew it, it was the morning of.

The meeting was set for noon.

An hour till, Esther shakily smoothed down her dress.

“If at any time you feel uncomfortable or unsafe,” Wardlow said, checking the knife strapped between his waistcoat buttons, “you come to Joe or I… or Ricky, and we’ll get you out of the room. Joe or Ricky would be better. As host, I won’t be able to leave so easily.” He gave Esther a warm smile. When the responding twitch of her lips was strained, he gently laid a hand on her shoulder and guided her to sit on the hall bench, kneeling next to her. “Nothing is going to happen. The heat gets checked at the door. And a knife fight needs more space than the dining room can provide.”

Esther shivered, though the sunlight was warm through the windows. “All I have to do is take notes. No one is going to notice me?”

With a nod, Wardlow did his best to comfort her. “You’re a new face. So, there might be a bit of conversation. But you’ll always have someone with you. Do you have other concerns?”

“I won’t really know anybody by eye. Except maybe Jericho. Or Friedman.”

“As the crews start arriving, we’ll make sure you at least know who is with whom.”

He was just placing a reassuring kiss to her knuckles when Ricky came down the stairs. The men shared a look too short for Esther to notice. “First car is here. Looks like Omega and company.”

“Alright.” Wardlow stood, raising Esther with a lingering grip on her hand. He was comforted it wasn’t shaking anymore. “I’ll head out front to start the greeting. Would you check the holding pen to make sure it’s stocked, and that Miss Garnier has everything she needs?”

Ricky nodded. “Sure thing. Right this way, Sweetheart.”

The boss went one way, and Ricky led her another. The ‘bull pen’ was the front parlor, but with the doors to the dining room wide open. A small drinking station had been set up in the corner with the swing-open stache hiding the refills. The couches and extra seats had either been removed or commandeered for the long dining room table. On one hand, no place to hide. On the other, if the other attendees were as alert as Esther, nobody would want to sit down when they could pace.

In the dining room, the window curtains had been pulled back, leaving only the thick shears to obstruct the view from the street. But it made the room brighter. The chair on the far end was reserved for the seller: Taz. The chair on its right was flanked by two more backless seats. One for Esther as she took notes on a lap-desk. And one for Joe. Though he would probably stand. Esther’s chair was close enough to the wall that she could reach the end table stocked with loose paper, pencils, and pens. The door on the other end towards the back hidden breezeway would be Spears’ post once everything got started. If a fight broke out, he and the crew could rush in at a moment’s notice. The chair at the other end, with its back to the double doors, was reserved for the buyer: Jericho.

Ricky closed the double doors after a glance.

“So,” Esther took out a small notebook from her pocket and a pencil from its holding spot behind her ear. “Remind me, which one’s are the Omega crew. They run Feathers, but which one is who-”

Ricky breathed a laugh at her preparedness. “The Omega crew is the trio-led group. Kenny Omega and his brother back-ups: Matthew and Nicholas Jackson. Their footmen have changed over the years, but they run Feathers on the Eastside.” He leaned close as the front alcove door opened and the men in question eventually walked into the parlor. “Despite looking like it, no, the Jacksons are not twins. But,” he raised his voice to they could hear him, “Feathers is the place to go for rejuvenation of the soul. Right, Omega? How have the blessings been this year?”

The taller men of the three, with greying curly hair nodded. Kenny Omega strode over to them with a confidence short of pretending to own the place. “We’ve been well.” He chuckled as he shook Ricky’s hand. “Though last month we got raided, and I actually got to lead a whole service to Chicago’s best before we could play again.”

Tapping his throat, Ricky pointed at Omega’s Adam’s apple. The guest reached up and removed the parson collar from his shirt.

“I guess I won’t need that here, will I, Miss-?”

Ricky answered for her. “Miss Garnier.”

Esther cocked her head to one side. “Are you… actually a, uh-”

“Heavens no. If you don’t mind the expression.” Omega slid the collar into his pocket. “It’s just for show. Unless the-”

“Hey, Starks!” One of the Jacksons waved. “Where’s the real hooch?” His brother rolled his eyes, nursing his own drink with lots of ice.

“It’s behind the ice.” Ricky winked at Esther. “Mr. Jackson claims not to drink. And usually doesn’t. Because he only drinks moonshine.”

With a hoot, he snagged a short green bottle, lightly punching his brother in the shoulder for hiding it. Omega’s eyes grew wide. He sighed.

“Use a glass this time. Matt- Nice to meet you, Miss Garnier. Excuse me.”

As Omega left to control the drinking habits of his partner, another group strolled it. A large heavy-set man with Joe’s build shed his jacket and hung it from a light fixture. His companion, a tall woman with silver hair and dressed in a well-tailored suit, surveyed the room with disgust. Both of them gave a slight nod to Ricky before taking control of a corner to converse.

“That’s Taz. The former devil of the streets. I used to work for him when I was in Louisiana. He was the one who recommended me to Wardlow after the job I did for him.”

“What kind of job?”

“Just a job. It didn’t tie up into as neat of a bow as I would have liked, but tied up well enough. It’s not a problem anymore. I mostly did the same job for him as I do here: an informant, runner and gatherer. He followed me up a few months later when things still didn’t pan out. Made new connections. Like Ms. Cargill. She’s his muscle. They weren’t happy to hear how many people were showing up to their private meeting. Especially Ms. Cargill.” Ricky lowered his voice as the woman looked over. “If Taz isn’t careful, he’s going to wake up to a Harlem Sunrise.”

“A what?”

“A knife in the back.”

Esther didn’t have time to be shocked before the front door was shoved open. Cargill slid a hand into her waistcoat and withdrew it before Esther could blink. The loud arrival of the broad shouldered man with a lion’s mane and large entourage set the Feathers crew on edge.

“Jericho,” Omega muttered with a nod.

“Nice to see you boys. Taz. Ms. Cargill.” Jericho turned his attention to Ricky. “How are ya, Starks? Already up and moving around. Glad to see it. And, ah, who’s the skirt?”

Ricky stepped in front of her as two of Jericho’s men, both with overly slicked-back hair and policemen’s shoes, stepped around their boss to stare. A third, the young man Esther recognized as Sammy Guevarra, slid his eyes over her like oil. “She’s the scribe for the day. If you fellas would like a drink,” he glanced over. The Jacksons were already pushing Omega away. “Please. Help yourselves.” He checked his watch. The meeting was getting closer, but not close enough.

“If they hate each other so much,” Esther whispered, “why did they set up Feathers and Jazzies only a block from one another?”

Ricky shrugged. “Win enough at one, then you can walk to lose it at the other, maybe? Jericho picked his place because it was close to the police station. Those two flat-foots walk out in the open with him.” Ricky sneered. “Usually uniforms and all. But nobody seems to care.” He continued to explain that the only reason why Jericho hadn’t paid to completely shut down Feathers was because of the swift retaliation from the other companies who had a penny in one group or another. Or both. It would start an all-out war between the groups, and the police. Not that everyone wasn’t on the edge to begin with.

The tension tightened in the room with the arrival of Britt Baker and her shoulder guards: Hayter and Rebel. They wore suits similar to the one Cargill wore. Esther wondered if wearing suit pants helped them move faster in a crisis. Or if they preferred the pockets to carrying around a handbag. Their suits had a finer pinstripe fabric than Cargil’s, displaying how well Baker’s trade was performing.

The Dentist, as Baker was known, had her own business besides watching over the remnants of her husband’s business. He had disappeared a while back. Ricky didn’t elaborate. Baker’s business was protection. If a citizen’s building was being encroached upon by a rival gang, she would step in and redefine the lines. Or, if someone wanted more territory, she and her team would ‘inform’ the tenants of their new ‘landlords.’

“They’re like citizen vigilantes. For a price,” Ricky noted.

Baker and Cargill kept the length of the room between them.

Ricky bristled as another arrival called his name. He turned slow. Shoulders tensed. Esther saw his hand twitch, like he wished he was armed to the teeth. She needed no explanation to who this man was.

He stepped in alone. But he took up more air than the rest of the room. “That’s quite a shiner, Starks. Where’d you pick that up?” He eyed Esther up and down. It made her skin crawl. “Well, aren’t you a doll. Can I make a drink for you?”

Wardlow’s arrival at the man’s shoulder set Esther and Ricky at ease. “She has no need for a mickey-finn. Though I can arrange one for you, if you’d like, Maxwell. For old time’s sake.”

With a sneer, Friedman continued into the room.

“Hmm. My least favorite former employer.” Wardlow rolled his shoulders back. “Starks, make a round of the house till you find the Torrios; warn them he’s here and to keep outta sight. And make sure no one got lost.” He dipped his head towards Esther. “Sometimes visitors like to take a chance and snoop.” Giving the room a once over, he added to Ricky in a whisper, “check the street too. Spears thought he saw Hagar across the way. Outta uniform. Report back if you see him.”

“Yes, sir.” With a pat to Esther’s arm, he was gone.

Esther considered herself small in a room full of powerful people. Who was she? A cigarette girl. Occasionally a waitress. This was way over her paygrade.

Wardlow took her arm before she could begin to shake. “Do you mind if I walk with you? I’m not the best at conversation, but it might be easier if you’re with me.”

“Of course.” She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and followed him as he continued to greet the guests. To each other, they made gentle conversation that kept Esther at ease. At one point, they watched as Friedman tried to engage Baker in a battle of wits. He quickly lost the war. Despite the rebuff, he continued to talk, losing more and more ground according to Baker’s reaction. Esther had to hide her delight behind her hand.

“If those two ever teamed up, Lucifer would start selling snow cones.” Wardlow’s comment made Esther giggle. Beside them, Omega chuckled as he overhead. The pseudo-parson raised his glass in agreement.

When the front door opened again, Esther tensed. All the ease Wardlow had gradually built up in her evaporated. Three men walked in, dressed all in black, followed closely by a small blonde woman in a lady’s fedora. Her eyes, as they slid around the room and over Esther, chilled the air.

“The Coatmakers. Baker’s rivals in enforcing. They run a legitimate shop called the House of Black, dealing in funeral affects and attire. But they mostly deal in Chicago overcoats.”

Esther swallowed. “Extra thick against the snow?”

“I wish.” Ricky rejoined them. “They deal in coffins. Making them and putting people in them. Who Malakai Black can’t corrupt; he terrifies. Who he can’t terrify, he murders.*  These days… his skills are in high demand.” He turned his back to the room and muttered, “Hagar’s outside. Doesn’t look like he’s got a car. Either rode with Jericho or walked.”

The tremors in Esther’s knees traveled up her legs to her torso. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. Her grip tightened on Wardlow’s elbow. “Those are the men from the Valentine’s attack.”

Wardlow and Ricky boxed her in as she paled.

“Are you sure?”

Over Ricky’s shoulder, she made eye contact with the red-headed one. “I’m sure.”

The boss passed her to Ricky. “Joe’s out in the hallway. Get her some air.”

Esther couldn’t tell if it was the rush to get her out of the room, or if the Coatmakers had been watching her from the start, but she felt their eyes. Felt their glare. It cut into her spine like blunt scissors, stealing her breath and replacing it with a cold sweat. Joe took one look at her perspiration, and another at the four pairs of eyes on her back, and he knew. He had Ricky move the hall bench closer to the back breezeway so Esther could sit out of sight. A silver flask was passed into her hand. The contents burned down her throat and settled like an ember in her stomach. An odd relief for the ice that seemed to follow her around.

“I wondered if it was them.” Joe spread Esther’s hands and started to squeeze her fingers one by one in an unfollowable pattern. It forced her breathing to even out. “Friedman had too many people that day. Thought maybe the Blackpool Combaters were back in town. Doubted he’d found enough guys to hire for a job like that. But this makes more sense.” He shook out his handkerchief and dabbed her forehead.

She panted, taking another sip. “How do you live like this? Welcoming in the very people who murdered your team? My co-workers.” She tried to stand. “We can’t leave him in there alone with them-“

“Wardlow isn’t alone.” Joe tugged her back into her seat. “No one’s going to make any moves. And if they tried, the rest of the guests would help, or Spears and his boys would rush in and end the whole thing. You don’t have to worry about him.”

“I have to take notes-”

Joe tugged her down again.

“The boss can take his own notes,” Ricky muttered. He dug his right knuckles into his left palm. “Maybe Cargill-”

“She’s got a knife.” Esther handed back the flask before she could take a third sip. “She reached for it when Jericho came in. I don’t like the idea of her standing anywhere near him with anything sharper than a blunt pencil. And I just sharpened all the ones in there.”

A grin tugged at Joe’s mouth. He chuffed his finger under her chin. “That’s why I like you. You see the smallest details. That’s why I recommended that you did scribe for us today, instead of staying out of sight. If you want to keep Wardlow safe, you’ll sit with him. You’re not just there to take notes of who is buying up what. From that chair, you’ll be able to see everyone in the room and their reactions to any conversation. But,” he took her hands, “if you can’t do this, none of us will think any less of you. We’ve dragged you into this life too quickly. You are obliged to take your time.”

Silence lingered between them. Inside the room, a small round of laughter floated through the wood. Esther could hear Wardlow’s baritone. She took a breath.

“I can do it.”

With a nod, Joe helped her to her feet. “Change of plans, Starks. Don’t leave the dining room once everything starts. I want you standing by the back door to let in Spears if somebody decides to start trouble. For now, walk her in and make her a club soda. I’ll be in there soon after I check in with Spears.”

Wardlow was waiting by the door. He gave her hand a squeeze as he placed it on its former perch in his elbow. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, avoiding looking across the room towards her walking nightmares. “Just needed some air.”

“Good. We’re about to begin.” He walked her across the room to the dining room doors. “Will you pass out the agendas while I herd the cats in there?”

She waved Ricky away from the cart before he could make her anything. A task to focus on would be better than anything he could prepare. Or maybe that was the contents of the flask talking. “Of course.” She slipped into the dining room. The agendas and list of tasks for the meeting were stacked on her table of supplies. She passed them out to the chairs against the window-side first. Just as she rounded the corner with her back to the doors, they opened wide. She took a breath. And continued. Almost through, Esther didn’t register the hand on her hip until it squeezed. With a jerk, her elbow collided with a set of ribs. When she turned, she realized the hand that had been on her hip was the one that had ordered Bill’s murder. She gritted her teeth and focused on her breathing.

Friedman held his side. “Quite a defense you’ve got there, Miss Esther.” He pursed his lips. “A strong Jewish name. Wardlow shouldn’t be working you like this. You deserve to be relaxing with pearls and diamonds dripping off each of those delicate fingers like the queen you’re named for, if you ask me.” He took her hand in an iron grip before she could recoil. “How about you leave with me after the shindig? I’ll show you what feels like to be on the arm of a real man.”

“No, thank you. I like working where I am.” Quickly, she passed out the last three sheets, nearly sending flying across the table in her haste.

Still, Friedman followed. “Come on. My business is established and growing. And I’ve never been raided.”

“Then maybe you’re not doing as well as you think. I thought only the places considered worth going to get snitched on. You’re obviously not worth the effort.”

Friedman gripped her arm, making her gasp. He hissed, “Wardlow used to work for me. Did he tell you? Everything he has is because of me.”

“Then you should consider his accomplishments a- ow. A compliment.” As suddenly as he had harshly gripped her wrist, she was out of his grasp. With a nod, she thanked Ricky for shoving Friedman out of the way. “If the student surpasses the teacher, it’s a testament to both rising empires. And hopefully, Wardlow’s will rise far above yours sooner rather than later.” She stepped back until her shoulder blades were against Ricky’s chest and his arm was protectively around her waist.

“Why you-“

“Sit down, Friedman.” Baker motioned at the rest of the guests settling into their seats. “You’re holding things up.”

The only chair left was the one on the far side of the table from Esther. With a grumble, Friedman took his seat. As he did, Baker gave Esther a kind nod, who shuddered a breath and dipped her head in gratitude.

On his end of the table, Jericho piped up, “and the both of you used to work for me. I’ve never understood your hype.” He smiled as an argument began to rise between the attendees. They all flinched as a glass slammed down on the table.

“Excuse me.” Wardlow settled into his seat. “If it’s alright that we begin,” he exchanged his glare at Jericho for an amicable greeting to the room, “I’d like to thank you all for the honor of hosting. Mr. Taz has some territory to sell. It was going to be a private exchange, but a lot of you seemed interested in the land. Let’s begin going over what businesses are included in the blocks for sale.”

Esther readied her pen. On all sides, the guests leaned back in their seats with the agendas, appearing to relax into business. But, from the corner of her eye, Esther caught Ricky’s hands toying with his watch. Wardlow gripped the armrests below the table-line so tight his knuckles turned white. And Joe’s jaw clenched and unclenched, making his temples flex menacingly.

Before Taz could begin describing the details, Jericho stood.

“Here we go,” Ricky muttered.

“I must apologize to you, Taz, and to our host. The available territory is not why I’m here.” He took a moment to gather himself. Esther noted in her mind, and the notebook after she unfroze from his outburst, that he looked like he was about to lift something heavy. From his breast pocket, Jericho pulled out a stack of cards, throwing them across the table. He glared at his fellow guests. “Who would like to claim these? Or, should I say, confess?” Again, he had to pause, clearing his throat. “I lost two good men last night, and I would like to know who to send the funeral bill to.”

The room remained silent. Even the squeaks of the chairs were hushed.

With each passing second, Jericho’s face deepened another shade of red. “Well?” When no one was forthcoming, he stabbed a finger at Omega. “You’re the only other casino joint here. That church front is hiding a lot more sins than you like to let on.” One by one, he picked up a card, only to toss it down while he listed their arrivals.

Esther began furiously writing as he named each event.

“King of spades: I was almost shot in a midnight drive-by. A few weeks later, at ten in the morning: the ten of spades as my shop had its windows broken. Then the seven of spades: seven pm raid of Jazzies. Several of my patrons were injured. Five of spades: another raid, this time at my warehouse. One of my guys came away with broken ribs. And, got this one this morning, the two of spades. Two of my boys were killed last night before dawn.” His red face started to go purple in the specks of his cheeks. “Anybody want to talk?”

Reaching across the table, Esther picked up a card that had fluttered toward her. “So, yours have been related to time?” She had spoken in a whisper, more to herself than anything. But Jericho’s whipped towards her all the same.

“What do you mean by that?”

Esther gently laid the card down, sinking into her seat. She looked apologetically at Wardlow.

With a reassuring nod to her, Wardlow diverted Jericho’s rage. “We’ve been receiving these cards as well. The gunning down of my crew last week introduced the seven of hearts.” He looked around. “We also have a funeral bill to send. An expensive one.”

Across the table, Omega and the Jacksons shared a look. Matthew Jackson handed his co-boss a stack of cards from his pocket. Other lieutenants and leaders took out their stacks as well. Even the Thompson squads: the Coatmakers and Baker.

“You’ve all received cards?” Esther was baffled. How had so much been accomplished, so many lives destroyed and snuffed out, before the families talked to one another?

One by one, each leader described the hits in relation to the cards received. Esther tried to keep up. Raids, arrests, and injuries floated up like coal smoke. Everyone had received at least five cards except for Friedman. He made a show of scratching his nose, deep in thought.

“Duly noted. I’ll be ready.” He gave a pointed glance at Guevarra.

Esther made a note that their exchange didn’t read as really about the cards. More like he was ready to get caught in a lie. She wasn’t sure why her stomach twisted with that knowledge, but she wrote it down anyway.

“But if you all have cards,” Taz ran a trembling hand over his bald head, “then… I confess, as if it isn’t known already, I’m about to fold. But I would like at least to know who did this, and why?”

Britt Baker leaned over to Hayter and whispered loudly, “maybe he should look to the person at his left.”

“What are you implying, Baker?” Cargill bristled, her hand smoothing over her waistcoat. She glanced at Esther, directing her comment as a warning. “It’s not like we can trust a word you say. You only look out for yourself.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s not a new game.” Baker fiddled with one of her cards. “And it wouldn’t be the first, or the last time, that someone made a name for themselves by taking out their employer.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone came in by making waves. At any cost.” Julia Hart stood, bracing her hands on the table. “How’s your husband these days? Oh, wait. He’s dead.”

Baker was up in a second, gun drawn from her coat’s inner lining. She held it steady as the table bubbled with panicked retreats around her. Across the table, Hart stood still with a small, knowing smile on her face. Her boss and his right hand took position by her shoulders. Their other man, who could only be their muscle, Brody King, rolled his eyes as Jericho held him back as a human shield.

“One of these days,” Baker slid the gun back into its hidden pocket, “someone is going to drop by and kick your teeth out. One. By. One.” From her sleeve, she pulled out a stiletto knife the length of her forearm.

As Hart pulled a similar weapon from her boot, Joe’s soft touch on Esther’s elbow nearly made her jump out of her skin. He guided her away from the back door, pushing her towards the windows. Next to Cargill and Taz.

The two women climbed onto their chairs, and then stepped onto the table. Careful of the table’s edge, they circled so each side had plenty of wood behind them. Baker lunged first. Dodging the blade, Hart nearly bent in half backward, bracing her unarmed hand on the table. With the other, she sliced up, catching Baker’s arm. The woman stumbled back, clutching the wound. As the red seeped through her fingers, she grinned, impressed by the speed that she had lost first blood. After that, they stepped closer, slicing and stabbing. The women of the Thompson crews had lined their corsets with plating. Esther could hear it as the knives cut through the fabric, revealing the protection underneath.

The other guests pressed themselves to the walls. Jericho tried the double doors out to the parlor, but, as a precaution, Spears had locked them from the outside once everything got started. Trapped, Jericho headed for the back door. But the crew was just coming through, guns drawn. Joe shouldered him to one side, sending him nearly toppling into Taz.

“Alright, enough!” Spears aimed his gun at the women on the table. The men around him aimed at the guests. One of them handed Ricky a pistol, who aimed it at the cluster by the window.

Jericho didn’t appreciate this. He pulled out a small handgun from his back belt gap, aiming it in return. But Cargill knocked it out of his hand. It landed at Esther’s feet. Jericho reached for it, but she was quicker. Not enjoying the weight of it in her hand, she quickly popped open the window and chucked the piece outside. Jericho gaped at her as she closed it.

With a snap of his fingers, Joe calmly forced the women to relinquish their blades. He handed them to Spears, assuring that they’d get them back at the end of the meeting. The other weapons that made a showing in the scuffle were picked up by the crew under the same promise.

“What about my gun?” Jericho whined.

“Send your boy, Hagar, to pick it up for you.” Ricky took great pleasure in revealing they knew the big man was out there. Especially when Jericho’s cheek twitched with a sneer.

Joe sniffed. So much for checking the pieces at the door.

Wardlow sat down with a sigh, motioning for everyone else to do the same. At his nod, Joe snapped again, and the crew filed out, with Ricky closing the door behind them. He kept his pistol, sliding it into his jacket. The boss took a sip of his drink. “If we could leave bygones for settling on personal time, and mysteries unsolved for a few minutes, is anyone interested in buying Taz’s territory?”

Their answer was obvious before anyone said a word. Until this mystery was solved, nobody was going to expand in any direction. Otherwise, the entire community would point their fingers at them and wipe them out. Esther didn’t bother writing down the “no’s” that worked their way around the table. At their end of it, Wardlow gave a side-long glance at Joe, silently asking him. Joe shook his head.

With a sigh heavier than before, Wardlow turned to face Taz. “I’m sorry.”

Taz nodded.

To his credit, he didn’t make a fuss, or beg for anyone to buy it at less than it was worth. Even Cargill looked resolute, if a bit crestfallen. Esther wondered is the extra money would have been a welcome boost for when the tall woman took over.

“Thank you for hosting this, all the same.” Taz gathered his next several words. “All things considered and accounted for, I’m afraid that I must announce my retirement. Ms. Cargill will be taking over my seat in your next meeting. She is my legacy, and I know you all will respect her accordingly. As you all probably know by now,” he glanced at Ricky by the door, “my son is going into boxing. If I can ask a parting favor… I would like to watch his career grow. Whatever grief and grievances any of you may have against me, give me a little time before you- And please leave him out of it. My son has never worked in any capacity of my business. Please keep that in mind when… when you come to collect.” He stood. He made a show of removing his signet ring, a gold band set with a small garnet or ruby, and handed it to Cargill. “Ladies,” he nodded to Baker, Hart, and Cargill in turn. “Gentlemen,” he bowed to the room. He gave a singular bow to Wardlow, who rose to shake his hand. Without looking back, Taz left the room through the side door that Ricky held open for him.

The room remained silent. Across the table, Nick Jackson discreetly wiped away something from his eye. Esther realized that this would probably be the only time she saw someone leave the business so gracefully. Or so peacefully, at least for the defining moment.

Each member was steeped in their thoughts when Kenny Omega inhaled to speak. It instantly made the room’s occupants snap to look at him, suddenly making him shy. He cleared his throat. “Before this meeting moves on to another subject or is adjourned… I would like to say that, if any more cards appear, as I’m sure they will, Feathers is open to you all. This- this ‘card dealer’ is a threat to us all. And we can’t wait for another meeting or tragedy to pass around information. Until this matter is solved or fixed, my doors are open. No matter our past issues. Please, share any updates with me, and I will share updates with you all.”

“Thank you, Parson,” Friedman muttered. He flinched as he received more glares than expected.

Wardlow stood. He strictly avoided shifting to stand in front of Taz’s voided chair. “Thank you, Mr. Omega. I also extend the same deal. My secretary, Miss Garnier, has been taking notes of the cards received. We can have copies made,” he glanced at her, asking for confirmation, which she agreed to, “and sent out. We’ll get those to you as soon as we are able. Is there any other business anyone would like to discuss? Or any more information to share about the attacks?” When no one was forthcoming, he scooted in his chair. “In that case, I call this meeting adjourned.”

Watching everyone walk as if their shoes were filled with concrete kept Esther in her seat. Spears opened the doors, revealing an empty parlor, with no sight of Taz. When most of the room had voided, she began to collect the unused itineraries and land listings. In her mind, she started planning out how to format the information about the cards to send out. A gentle hand at her elbow made her stop. “Well, that was interesting-”

Instead of Ricky or Wardlow standing there, it was Friedman. He tightened his grip to keep her from running away.

“Yes, interesting.” He glanced at the doors; Esther followed his gaze just in time to see Guevarra closing them with a smile. The lock clicked. Friedman’s grin took on a sharp edge as she tried to wrench herself out of his grip. “I have to admit, I was wrong about you, Miss Garnier. You are a very capable young lady. Quick thinking with Jericho’s gun earlier. Saying that,” he caught her incoming hand before it could connect with his cheek, “I know you can see the signs.” He kept a grip so tight on her hand that Esther feared he would break her fingers.

Can’t take notes if I can’t write, she thought with a jolt. Though it made her shudder as he softly kissed her knuckles, she lessened her struggling.

“Wardlow is close to folding too, isn’t he? That’s why he didn’t make a bid for Taz’s land.”

“He was host. It wouldn’t have been proper for him to bid.”

Friedman laughed. “Is that how he explained it to you? Come on, Esther, you’re smarter than that, pretty face and all.”

A commotion in the parlor drew their attention. Friedman held her closer. They both knew what it would look like to anyone who might bust through the doors. Esther did her best to wriggle away, but he pinned her arms behind her, pressing his chest to hers.

“Why don’t you join my crew?” he continued. “Come on. Us visitors in a foreign land have to stick together. I can set you up with your own little flower shop on the Northside. Guaranteed Friday nights and Saturdays off. Did Wardlow give you such an assurance?”

“He did, actually. Didn’t even bat an eye.”

“Not bad. For a goy.” As the doors burst open, with Ricky wincing from the force, Friedman brought his face close to hers. “If Wardlow goes under-”

“He won’t. I’m his secretary, so I’ve seen the books. My position here is very secure.”

The statement made Friedman pause, loosening his grip. Esther took the opening. She finally managed to twist out of his hold; she was sure he had let her. Ricky held her close when she ran into his arms. She shivered there, feeling entirely safe even as Friedman glowered.

“You’re making a big mistake. No matter how well Wardlow thinks he’s doing.”

Ricky muttered low in Creole.

“What was that, crawfish breath?”

Esther answered before Ricky could inhale to shout. “He said you’re the one making the mistake. The only one here confused who is doing well and who isn’t… is you.” Her shivering stopped. Through Friedman’s eyes, she watched as he took stock of her position and assuredness in Ricky’s arms. She watched it settle into his mind. And, for all it's worth, she didn't care. Maybe the view was accurate, or at least beginning to be.

The cuff links glistened at his wrists as he spun them to a more favorable position. Friedman straightened his jacket collar. As he readied to leave the room, Ricky moved Esther to his other side, out of Friedman’s path.

“Alright, I hear ya’, Sweetheart. Lost cause. I can take a hint.” He stopped in front of Ricky. “Take care of yourself, Starks. Give those ribs time to heal before getting into more trouble, yeah?” He landed two heavy pats to Ricky’s side, making him grunt. With a smug grin that Esther would take great pleasure in watching it be removed, Friedman finally left the room. And, hopefully, eventually, the house.

Ricky breathed through the pain. “One of these days I’m gonna put one between his eyes.”

“One of what?”

“I’ll decide in the moment.” Carefully, Ricky straightened his torso. He attempted a light-hearted grin when she placed a steadying hand on his ribs. “I’m alright, ma cher; he didn’t hit me that hard.” But removed her hand all the same, hinting even her gentle touch was too much. “When did you see the books?”

“Spears showed me this week. There’s all these weird gaps that keep troubling him. And a lot of red. You guys- I mean, we have been hit pretty hard. Haven’t we?” She bit her lip. “Where’s Mr. Wardlow?”

“In his office.”

“Good. I want to go over the attacks with-”

Ricky caught her arm. “Esther- Yes. Do that. But- be gentle with your questioning. Despite what you said to Friedman just now, a good cover that will help later, I’m sure, you saw how we’re not doing well. Taz was a strong ally. Losing him…” he dropped his head. “Things are going to get harder from here on out. Especially if everyone is moving small and slow until this thing works out.”

When he let her go, Esther had to keep herself from rushing to the office. Everyone’s reactions to Taz’s fold had bruised her heart. Despite the animosity of the territories and deals and power, it had been obvious there was a certain level of respect shared among the families. She had assumed that because Taz’s business had been shrinking for a while, that Wardlow’s endeavors wouldn’t be majorly affected. Not anymore. This world she’d arrived in wasn’t just money and land. It was a number’s game. A game of who you knew and how those relationships would help both parties. With Taz gone, new connections would have to be made with his replacement and legacy: Ms. Cargill. In the meeting, the new boss kept most of her reactions, and most of her opinions, to herself. Beside that comment she made about Baker.

With each passing hour, Esther’s understanding of her dire placement grew in complexity.

She stopped outside the office doors. Taking a deep breath, she reserved herself for the difficult days ahead. In her hands, in her notes, were the clues to keeping her new sanctuary afloat.

She knocked.

\\***//

*“Who Malaki Black can’t corrupt; he terrifies. Who he can’t terrify, he murders.” – Blatant quoting from Key Largo (1948) and the description given for the gangster character of Rocco

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Chapter 5: Meeting After the Meeting