#season 5a is a hairball

[thepointoftheneedle]

Hostile Takeover

Ok so I don’t really write canon, like...at all.  But it’s like this.  Sometimes my cat gets a hairball and she retches and coughs and then...yuk.  And it’s her mess, so she ought to clean that up, but she can’t.  No opposable thumbs. So unless I want to look at that nastiness I have to get on my hands and knees and clean it myself. That was a metaphor.  Anyway, in that spirit...this.

He was just resting his scratchy, tired eyes for a moment when he heard someone slide smoothly into the booth opposite him. He dragged his eyelids up  with a monumental effort,  afraid of who..or what... he’d see. Dark hair, business suit, gloss and polish. He closed his eyes again. “What do you want, Veronica?”

“Do you know what a hostile takeover is, Jones?” she asked, as if he were in her economics class.

“Yeah, I guess,” he moaned, not interested in becoming one of her acolytes, too wiped out and beaten down to conceive an exit strategy from this conversation.

“So you know that if an investor thinks that a firm has significant value, some unique asset or natural resource, but that the company is undervalued, because the management is incompetent or too stupid to guard the asset, this investor can swoop in and take over the company’s management.  They buy the stock or secure ownership of the line of credit.  That way they can  place it on a firmer footing in terms of governance and maximise its yield. Right?”

“Whatever. I’m sleeping,” he intoned, not loving how much it made him sound like a recalcitrant high schooler.

“Well sleeping on the job isn’t something I’d tolerate but let’s not dwell on that,” she said pertly. “Jones, you are the subject of a hostile takeover. I bought you.”

Now he opened his eyes and looked at her, not sure what she was trying to pull. “What the hell?”

“I was able to get hold of this from your far too indulgent employer,” she said pushing a business card across the table. The card the debt collectors had given Tabitha. “I’ve paid them off.”

“Veronica, you don’t need to do that. I’m on top of it,” he protested.  “I just need to...”

“Oh I didn’t do it to be kind.” She talked over him. “Hostile takeover remember. I also paid your advance back to your publisher. What you write next is mine. And write you will, because I will require pages every day.” She tapped a long fingernail on the table to emphasise her point. “Your talent is mine but you are relieved of all management responsibilities with regard to it.”  

He looked down now, not seeing how he could avoid making the shaming admission.  "I...I can’t... write.”

“Well you’d better because I’m not a pushover like your other employers. Jones, you’re a writer.  So write.  I’m no expert.  As long as the pages are full I won’t be able to tell drivel from gold.  Just fill the pages. Now, as to the damage you are currently inflicting on my property.” He stared at her bewildered.  “Your brain, Jones. It belongs to me and you are destroying it. Booze, whatever the hell else you’re putting in it.  Do you need to enter a facility or will you go to daily meetings? Those are the options. This is not a unicorn and rainbows takeover.  I know people who are much more scary than these dumbos.”  She tapped the business card.

“Meetings,” he mumbled.

“Good. Smithers will collect you and wait outside. At least once a day, until you deliver my book to me. Now, I think that’s everything. Get writing and get clean Jones. You know what happens to people who cross me.” Veronica slid out of the booth, her heels clacking across the floor in a way that seemed to drive nails into his brain.  He watched her go through narrowed eyes, the light searing and painful.  He wasn’t sure what had just happened but it did seem to have focused his sense of purpose somewhat.  He’d better get clean and get writing or Veronica would have goons smash his kneecaps.

Outside, Veronica lowered herself into the car with typical elegance.  “Thanks V,” Betty said with a smile.

“Anything for you, B.  We're going to get him back for you.” The brunette smiled, reaching out to brush away the tear from her friend’s cheek.