#ch: viktor whale

[lenific]

@thatvermilionflycatcher asked ‘leaves’. Set in Los Simuladores.

—

Jefferson had jammed open the liquor cabinet, but it was Viktor who poured the best whiskey liberally into his shot glass. “It’s not working,” he announced to the team. “I’ve worked my best on this guy; I even convinced Ruby to flirt with him without gouging out his eyes - we owe her and Dorothy a spa session, by the way. Nothing.” He tossed back his drink, then glanced at Gold. “He still wants your flower girl.”

“Miss French,” Gold responded, ignoring Viktor’s attempt to tease him, “is resolute. She has no interest in your new friend. Since he won’t take her word for it, the lady has hired us to drive the point home.”

“Perhaps he’s in love,” David ventured.

The other three men stared at him, their reactions a clear mirror of their thoughts on that suggestion.

David shrugged his shoulders, grabbing the bottle by the neck to fill his own shot glass. “I’m being a fool again?”

Viktor nodded, while Gold only shook his head. Jefferson, however, hooted a laugh and walked over to the younger man to throw an arm over his shoulder in enthusiastic camaraderie. “I like having an optimistic around here at last!”

Gold crinkled his nose, but avoided comment. His ears were still ringing after Miss French had taken him to task for scoffing at her bright-eyed notions of romance. To himself, he could concede that it wasn’t his place to scold someone for still believing in an innate kindness in every human being - as long as it didn’t affect his job. “Mr. Gaston’ feelings are not our client’s concern. That he takes her every negative as a challenge, however, is ours.” He shook his head when David offered him a drink. “In order to keep him away from Game of Thorns in the long term, it must be he who desists. Distraction hasn’t worked - and I know you tried your best, Doc - so now we must be imaginative.”

“David poses as Belle’s new boyfriend and scares Gary off.”

Gold raised an eyebrow at Jefferson’s suggestion. “Please say that you’re kidding.”

Jefferson grinned. “All right. Then you pose as her boyfriend and-”

“No.”

Viktor sniggered. “Tempting as it is to support Hatter’s idea, if only to watch the fireworks, I want this to be over so I never have to think about that bore again. If I must hear him ramble about basketball again…” He clicked his fingers. “What if he bets too high? Not getting beaten up by Zee’s monkeys would be a nice incentive to get out of the country.”

David shook his head. “We’re not welcome in the Underworld anymore.”

“With the kind of money Gary throws about? Please. Hades will roll out the red carpet and keep the wife on her leash.”

“Too risky,” David insisted.

Gold looked thoughtful, but then he shook his head. “No. He might cover the bet.”

“And the Underworld is too dangerous,” David tried once more, but again he was ignored. “Maybe if Gaston thinks that the woman he likes is actually a dangerous spy…”

Viktor shook his head. “No, not that. He’d love it!”

“Blackmail?”

“Miss French has stipulated no lasting damage - either physical or psychological. I’m sure harming the man’s reputation was implied.”

“She’s too good for you,” said Jefferson, always smiling.

“And terrible for us,” Viktor remarked. “That leaves us almost no room to work. What are we supposed to do? Strap the guy to a chair until he gives in?”

Gold’s lips tilted up.

Jefferson clapped. “A kidnapping! We haven’t done one of those in too long!”

“And we still aren’t.” Gold grabbed one of the glasses and raised it toward Viktor. “But your idea has merit. Except that instead of forcing him into place, you’ll convince Mr. Gaston that he needs a spa session, complete with a full body massage.”

Viktor gaped. “Oh dear.”

Jefferson sat down hard on the lowest available seat. “The dragon…”

As the newest member, David remained clueless. “Is there a problem?”

“No, of course not!”

“Not at all!”

Since Viktor’s and Jefferson’s reassurances fell wide off the mark, David turned to their leader. “What’s so scary about a massage?”

Gold smirked. “Nothing at all. In fact, it’s a place where a man can learn a lot about the female mind, if he stays quiet and listens.”

“You mean, where a man will swallow whatever tale you spin for him, as long as Mallory or one of her girls do the telling.”

“Suggestion works wonders, Doctor. If Mr. Gaston happens to overhear about how young ladies who play hard to get are always laughing about the men who pursue them behind their backs, well. Then it would be a pity if he saw Miss French attend the same establishment, and get along with the same ladies he’s just heard gossiping.”

“He’d hate to think himself the butt of a joke.”

“Like I said,” said Gold, giving a rare wide smile, “such a pity.”

The End 12/09/18

[lenific]

@thatvermilionflycatcher asked Rumbelle + ‘Could you stop doing that?’ Set in Los Simuladores.

—

Belle felt Gold’s hooded gaze on her as she crossed the room to join the group at the table, but she pretended not to notice. She had offered her friendship and he’d slapped it away; if he wanted to make amends, he could step up and say something instead of trying to stare her into giving him an opening.

Her stomach still clenched into an unpleasant knot when the door snapped closed and her ears caught the faint sound of his cane against the floor as he headed to his private quarters. Coward, she thought, still seething at having served as the target of his undeserved tirade. He might be sorry, but until she heard an actual apology, Belle wanted nothing to do with the horrible man.

So intent was she on ignoring Gold, that Jefferson’s words, coming from a few inches away, caught her by surprise.

“Could you stop doing that?”

Belle glanced at him, at a loss as to his meaning. Her puzzlement grew when the other two men, far from dismissing their partner’s question as they often did when Jefferson’s love for needless drama peeked out, joined in the plea with nods of their own. She fidgeted, disconcerted at being the target of their concerted interest outside of an operation. “Stop doing… what?”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “This thing,” he said, emphasizing the vagueness of the term with an exasperated wave of his hand, “you and Gold have going on. It was funny in the beginning, but now it’s just sad.”

“There’s nothing going on,” Belle told them, though her voice sounded irritated to her own ears. “In any case,-” she plugged in her laptop and connected it to the projector- “I found something that will help us get our client in the good graces of his future father-in-law. Mr. Fisher might claim to have no liking for music, but he’s saved a few videos of Mrs. Fisher dragging him onto a karaoke stage. I think-”

Jefferson grabbed her wrist before she could click the file open. “Yes, Beauty. Your hacking skills will save the day again, but why don’t we focus on you for once.”

Belle shuddered at the idea. “Let’s not.”

The brief struggle for the laptop mouse ended when the equipment abruptly turned off.

The projector plug in hand, David stood over them, looking exasperated. “Hatter, don’t be a baby. She will talk when she’s ready.”

Belle was about to thank him for his tact, but Viktor spoke first:

“No, she won’t.” He gave Belle an unapologetic stare, daring her to contradict him. “They’re made from the same cloth, she and Gold. Whatever is bothering her, she’ll either find a solution or let it fester, but God forbid she asks for help.” He leaned back into his chair, balancing his weight on the two back legs and pushing off into a rocking motion by pressing his feet against the table leg. “See? I told you it would be useless,” he said to Jefferson and David, his smirk entirely too smug for Belle’s taste. “She’s the suffering kind.”

Belle glared back at him. “No, I’m not.”

Viktor laughed. “Tell that to someone who hasn’t seen you mope around all week. What gives, Beauty?” He gave her his best impression of a concerned physician. “Gold didn’t live up to his end of the bargain, so to speak?”

Belle didn’t understand his meaning until Jefferson chimed in:

“Not Mr. Punctilious. He’d never leave a lady hanging.” He took advantage of Belle’s bewildered spluttering to grab her hand and pat it comfortingly. “Now, now. No need to look embarrassed, my lovely friend. You’re among family. Your secret stays here.” He leaned forward, his voice kept low. “He finished too quickly, didn’t he?”

Belle felt her cheeks burn. “What? No!”

“No shame in it,” Jefferson continued, as if they discussed Belle’s sex life often. “It happens to the best of us.”

Viktor snorted. “Speak for yourself, Hatter. Charming?”

David flushed, but his quick look away spoke for itself. “Never mind that,” he said out loud, coming again to separate Jefferson from Belle. “You two apologize to Belle - I mean, to Beauty, at once. Her personal life is none of our business.”

“When it affects Gold, it affects us,” Jefferson protested, while Viktor bit off more practically, “Everyone’s private life is our business, boy.”

“We could ask Gold for his input,” David warned, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

The other two groaned, but even though David was the youngest among them, they fell in line and grunted their apologies.

Belle felt her anger rise, and was tempted to grab her computer and walk far from this group of men who had so little respect for boundaries. Then she remembered what had drawn her to work with them in the first place: they always thought outside the box, and they didn’t shy away from the less lady-like aspects of her personality or her need to root around for every last nanobyte of information.

It was too soon to consider them friends, but at last she was a freak in a group of freaks.

A show of acceptance, she supposed, was adequate.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she told them, taking measured breaths to keep her voice steady. “Gold and I are business partners, just like you are to him. Nothing more.”

Three pairs of eyes fixed on her with incredulity.

“Christ. It’s worse than I imagined,” said Jefferson, looking aghast right before he bumped his forehead against the table. “We’re doomed!”

Viktor grabbed his shoulder and righted him up. “Save the melodrama for tonight’s job, idiot. At least now we know why he’s been looking as if he’s about to devour somebody.” He glanced over at Belle to make sure she’d gotten his meaning, then gave Jefferson another shake. “This is good.”

“It is?”

“Sure,” said Viktor. “Gold isn’t angry. He isn’t nursing a bruised ego over some underperformance. He’s just…” Just in time, he caught David’s warning gaze. It took a few seconds for him to discard several obscene options. “Itching”

Now it was Jefferson’s turn to slap him over the head. “You're such an ass, Doc. Does she look like a tick?” He swatted at Viktor again, hitting a different place since Viktor’s hands couldn’t protect the whole area. “Itching, indeed.”

Belle giggled at their antics, but still shook her head. “It’s really not like that.”

“He likes you,” David said, his voice low and earnest. Unlike Belle, he didn’t startle when Jefferson and Viktor rolled onto the floor and continued their grappling there. “He’s never actually let anyone else into this room, outside the three of us. He could have requested that you email the information, but instead he invited you in.”

Belle looked away. “I kind of blackmailed him into that…”

Viktor and Jefferson came to a sudden halt, whirling their heads in her direction. Even David was openmouthed, and he had to swallow before he could speak again. “Blackmail?”

Belle thought quickly. “I threatened to expose the group,” she told them, feeling lousy for deceiving them with the truth. A promise, however, was a promise. Gold’s family was his secret to keep. “I’m sorry.”

The men didn’t look offended at all. After the last couple of months, Belle knew that they were used to similar threats on a constant basis.

“Well, fuck me sideways,” Viktor said, eyebrows high with shock, “Gold must really like you. I mean, I knew he wanted to— ouch, Charming! I was going to say, scratch an itch. Honest.”

“There isn’t an honest bone in you, Doctor. Not when you’re talking to a woman.” David relaxed his grip on Viktor’s shoulder anyway, though a last squeeze reminded the other man not to say more. “He’s right, though,” he told Belle, lips curving into a good-humored smile. “Gold likes you.”

“Doubtful.”

“You know, lovely girl. There’s an easy way to test our theory.” Jefferson grinned, just as he did when he uncovered the information that would serve as a fulcrum upon which to lever an operation. “Jump the guy, and see what happens.”

Belle squeaked, tripping over her own tongue to refuse such insane advice.

“We can bet on it,” piped in Viktor, looking eager at the chance.

Her silence, apparently, was being taken as agreement.

Even David looked thoughtful. “Important matters deserve a frontal approach, he always says,” he reminded her. “Don’t you think this is important enough?”

“Yes!” she snapped. “And he already told me he’s not interested, okay.” When they looked doubtful, Belle sighed and told all, “I wanted to be friends, he said no. Emphatically.”

The guys were wincing. But not in sympathy with her.

“Friends?” Jefferson shook his head. “That’s cold, Beauty.”

“I’d be a wreck, too,” Viktor agreed.

David twisted his mouth as if he’d bitten into something unpleasant. “I’m sure you meant well,” he told her, “but put yourself in his shoes for a minute. You meet someone interesting-”

“And hot,” Viktor added.

“-and attractive,” David said, glaring at the other blond, “and you let them into your life, and your secrets; and you open your house to them, and give them a reason to come back - and this person just wants to be friends?”

Belle huffed. “I didn’t just—” She thought back to that conversation. Had she ever implied that she was looking for a springboard into a more serious relationship, or just played it safe? “Oh, crap.”

“It’s all right,” David told her, giving a reassuring smile. “You’ll make it better.”

Belle also remembered the aftermath of the conversation - no, it hadn’t been a conversation by the end; it had been an argument, and Gold had been a nasty beast. “Oh no,” she told his friends, confident that they’d pass on the message, “this ball is not in my court. As soon as Gold apologizes, well, we’ll see.”

The End 29/04/17

[lenific]

Christmas Drabbling 10/12

Set in Los Simuladores. prompt: harsh.

---

Viktor paused in his ministrations as his elbow bumped into Gold again. With medical tweezers hovering over the affected area on Belle's arm, he tilted his head toward his boss. "She'll live, dumbass. Now let me work."

Gold scowled, but he did step back, if only to walk around the bed and squeeze in between the other side of it and the wall. He looked over Belle, eyes shining with concern, and inhaled a quick breath when she winced in pain.  

"Be careful, Doc," he hissed.

"Be silent," Viktor returned, dropping another shard of glass into a nearby metal tray.

"You're hurting her."

"It's all right," said Belle, raising her free hand to hold Gold's. The flat line of his lips softened as he glanced at her, and Belle smiled back as if half an hour before she hadn't broken through a window with nothing but her shirt wrapped around her elbow. "Our friend is doing his job. Don't be harsh."

The tone was kind, but there was no doubt that the words were an order.

Gold shot a glare at Viktor, but relented. "Fine."

Viktor's turn came next, faced with a disapproving eyebrow before his smirk showed on his face. "And you, focus."

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered.

He suffered through another two minutes of the couple whispering to each other. If their conversation had covered the case, he wouldn't have minded the distraction. Information on their new client was sparse, and details about the botched visit to the crazy aunt might have helped him figure out how to hook up with Miss Tall and Blonde.

Instead, Belle and Gold exchanged quiet words of love and reassurance.

"Enough," he interrupted, pointing the tweezers between the two. "This is a damn examining room, not your bedroom. If you need to make eyes at each other so badly..." He fumbled as he saw Belle blush. Aw, shit. He hadn't meant to embarrass her. It was so easy to forget that Belle wasn't thick-skinned like Gold. "Just don't," he finished weakly, returning to his task.

"We're sorry."

That was Belle.

Gold, of course, scoffed. "Not me, sweetheart." Then, to Viktor, "You've got a terrible bedside manner, Doc."

"You knew that when you rushed her here," Viktor reminded him, aware that his contribution to the team wasn't to be a doormat. Then he chuckled, because after all, they were friends. "Whatever. Next time I'm with you two, I'll just remember to put one of you under."