Fic: Dark Triptych I: Gold Turned To Straw (Triptych Series III) (1/1)
Title: Dark Triptych I: Gold Turned To Straw (Triptych Series III) (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Mel/Johnny/Billie, J. Edgar Hoover, Walter Mellon, Carter Baum, Charles Winstead, Doris Rogers
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: If you’re looking for happy ‘n’ fluffy, this ain’t it!
Spoilers: For the movie, natch. :)
Summary: Betrayal is the name of the game.
Date Of Completion: January 4, 2010
Date Of Posting: January 5, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 2073
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: This is very AU. Think Star Trek’s "Mirror, Mirror" episode or DC Comics’ Crime Syndicate Of America (evil counterparts of the Justice League Of America). There are many timelines and universes out there, and sometimes people wearing familiar faces are hiding different hearts.
The entire series can be found here.
Trickery and deceit,
Ah, so sweet.
Old Swedish Saying
19th Century C.E.
“Get out!”
Mel stared in shock at the man sneering at him in their shared hotel room, a car horn blaring by an angry driver somewhere in the distance.
“J…Johnny?”
“What’s the matter, G-Man? Got a hearing problem?”
“I…I thought…” A trembling hand brushed back his hair, still wet from the shower. His lovers were still rumpled and half-clad from their recent lovemaking.
“You thought what? That I’d want to have you clinging to me the rest of my life? I got Billie, and now that we’re clear of your precious Bureau, I don’t need you anymore.”
Mel looked at Billie, whose expression was sympathetic, but who said nothing.
Johnny smirked. "Do you think I’d want a Southern pansy when I’ve got a beautiful lady for my bed?” He twirled one of Billie’s curls around his finger. “I had to play grab-ass in prison, but I’m free now. And no more nancy boys.”
Mel still looked shell-shocked, liquid-dark eyes huge in his pale face.
“Little slow on the uptake, aren’t ya, Melvin?”
Johnny threw Mel’s suitcase at him, the former agent just managing to catch it before it slammed into his chest. Pain showed on his face as Johnny turned his back on him dismissively.
Mel looked ashamed, grasping for the handle of his valise mechanically. He grabbed his coat and fedora, the hat falling on the floor, and he bent down to pick it up with shaking fingers, almost dropping it again. He took one last look at Johnny and Billie and left the room quietly.
& & & & & &
Johnny smirked as he heard the door close. He could still get his little Southern bell to do anything he wanted.
“Johnny…”
“Don’t worry, darlin’.” He cupped Billie’s face. “Go draw us a bath, honey, then we’ll head for the airport.”
“Airport? I thought we were taking a ship to England.” She still looked unhappy, her gaze falling on the closed door through which Mel had departed.
“Change of plans, sweetheart.” His kissed her. “Go on, now.”
Johnny watched Billie walk to the bathroom. He’d always intended to take the plane to New York, then fly to France instead of England. Mel wouldn’t have a clue.
Story of your life, eh, Mel?
Johnny straightened the rumpled sheets on the bed. They still smelled of sex, courtesy of their recent lovemaking. One thing about Mel, he was great in bed. All that crap Johnny had said about only wanting women had been a lie. Easier that way to get rid of Pretty Purvis.
A pity, really. The fringe benefits were definitely tasty, but it was better to travel just with Billie. A threesome would attract too much attention.
Mel was no threat anymore. He was ruined, a disgraced man who had no power anymore. No agents would listen to him, cast out of Public Enemy No. 1’s bed.
Johnny finished straightening the bed. It had been so easy to manipulate Mel. Ever since seeing Purvis in the flesh in Tucson, Johnny had seen his hunger and knew he could use that against the agent.
Getting the man in bed had been surprisingly easy: a few sugary endearments, some tender kisses, and ol’ Mel had betrayed his fellow agents and thrown away his life to become John Dillinger’s bedmate, or whore, if some could be believed.
Johnny began undressing to join Billie in the tub. Billie was the perfect partner. She’d never make a respectable marriage because of her half-Indian heritage, and so it was either life as a hatcheck girl or join with him. She’d chosen him. Smart woman.
And he treated her good. Didn’t smack her around or call her nasty names because of her blood. He bought her nice clothes, jewelry and presents, and the sex was great.
Okay, she’d had to do double duty with Mel in their bed, but that hadn’t been hard. Mel was sweet and considerate, a little too squishy-soft for Johnny’s taste, but Billie liked it.
Well, he’d had to jettison Mel. Pretty enough bedwarmer, but his usefulness was done.
He tossed his clothes on a chair and went into the bathroom with a smirk.
& & & & & &
“Got everything, doll?”
Billie nodded as she snapped her suitcase shut, her hair still damp. They’d gotten a little enthusiastic in the tub.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
“Mel? What the hell? I threw you out…!”
Federal agents poured in after the man in the impeccably-tailored charcoal-gray suit. Johnny yelled in rage as he reached for his gun, a quick, young agent knocking it away.
“Mr. Dillinger, you are under arrest.”
The honeyed Southern tones that had always pleased Johnny now rankled him as he fought the agents grabbing him. Any regrets he had about booting Mel out were long gone.
“You fuckin’ two-faced traitor!”
Billie was quiet as handcuffs were snapped on her wrists. She seemed resigned to her fate.
Mel’s face was expressionless as Johnny screamed curses at him, the agents dragging him out of the room.
Again, Billie appeared sympathetic but said nothing as she was led away, Johnny’s rage echoing down the hall.
& & & & & &
“Excellent work, my boy, excellent work.”
J. Edgar Hoover was positively beaming, unable to sit still behind his massive desk. He was walking back-and-forth in his office as Mel sat calmly in the chair in front of the desk, his white seersucker suit without a single crease. His matching fedora rested on the desk.
“It was a difficult assignment, to be sure.” Distaste flickered across Mel’s face. “I did what had to be done, but it was not pleasurable…consorting…with such a…type.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll gloss over that part and play up you becoming a trusted confidante instead of…well, as I said, we’ll gloss over that.” Hoover came around the desk, standing close to Mel’s chair, his knee nearly touching his subordinate’s thigh. “Anything you want is yours, my boy. Dillinger is in Michigan City and won’t be escaping from there like from Crown Point. Once he’s convicted of O’Malley’s murder, it’ll be the electric chair for him. I’ll make sure you get a front-row seat.”
Hoover offered Mel a cigarette from his silver case. Mel took it and Hoover lit it with a monogrammed lighter. Mel took a deep drag, blowing out a ring of smoke.
“I’ll see if they’re ready for you downstairs. This will be your moment to shine.” Hoover squeezed his agent’s knee. “You wait here, son.”
Hoover left the office, closing the door behind him.
& & & & & &
Mel took another drag, the hand holding the cigarette shaking. The silence of the office was almost oppressive, muted sounds of traffic coming up from the street below.
He didn’t know if Hoover believed his story of going undercover in order to bring Dillinger in, or it was just because it was to his advantage to do so.
He closed his eyes as he remembered wandering around the streets of Augusta, Maine, like a lost soul (exactly that), practically kicked out of Johnny’s bed, the smell of him still on his skin, suitcase heavy in his hand…
& & & & & &
What was he going to do? Where could he go? He had betrayed the Bureau and was a wanted man. He had fallen for hypnotic amber eyes and now was completely ruined.
He felt hollow inside, pain twisting in his heart.
All a lie.
He’d been a fool, a damn fool, for believing a single word of that master manipulator’s.
He’d loved Johnny, body and soul, and all the while, the man he’d loved had held nothing in his heart for him but contempt.
He’d given up everything for him.
It began to rain, a light drizzle, and the suitcase dragged on his shoulder.
All his worldly goods.
He was cut off from friends, family, his job, his trust fund…how could he find employment with a face so well-known from newspapers and newsreels? What was he going to do?
He stopped and looked up, surprised that he was standing in front of the Federal building. Inside there would be a Bureau office, since this was a state capital.
This was it, his last chance. Maybe he wouldn’t be doomed to be a ghost, wandering on the fringes of life in permanent exile.
Despite the pain every time he took a breath, Mel walked in.
& & & & & &
The SAC had been Walter Mellon, an old friend who had reacted with shock upon seeing Mel materialize in his office. Maybe he’d been skeptical of his friend’s story, but the chance to capture John Dillinger was too good to pass up.
Mel had woven a tale of complete deceit, pretending to be deeply undercover while a part of him withered away as he locked away the pain in a corner of his wounded heart.
Whether people like Hoover or Walter believed him or not didn’t matter. They would keep any suspicions quiet because it benefited them.
His father might not believe his undercover story, either, but like the others, it suited him to at least publicly back his story. His running off with Johnny had stained the family name, but now he was a hero, the man who’d brought in Public Enemy Number 1. Honor restored. His father would welcome his Prodigal Son back with open arms.
Would his friends and colleagues look at him with anything but distrust and suspicion? Would men like Carter and Charles accept him back into the fold, or always wait for him to betray them again? He had seen the way they’d looked at him: Carter with sadness in his eyes that hurt, Charles with a coolness that cut.
And of course he’d lied about his distaste for sleeping with a man. Maybe he could convince Hoover of the lie, keep himself on the straight and narrow, ha, ha.
His breath hitched with pain.
A knock on the door startled him. Doris came in.
“Miss Frechette asked me to give this to you.”
Mel accepted the note. He could see the sympathy in Doris’ brown eyes.
“Thank you, Doris.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something but instead squeezed his shoulder and left the room.
Mel took a deep breath and opened the note.
& & & & & &
Dear Mel,
Don’t be too hard on yourself. Johnny is a master manipulator. He reads a person’s heart and uses that knowledge against that person.
For what it’s worth, I enjoyed our time together.
Do what you have to do to protect yourself.
Billie
& & & & & &
Mel’s hand shook as he read the piece of paper. So, at least one other person besides Johnny definitely knew the truth, and she would never tell.
He carefully re-folded the note and put it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
Doris apologetically poked her head into the office again.
“They’re ready for you.”
Mel nodded and Doris closed the door. He rose from the chair.
When he’d run off with Johnny and Billie, his future had been uncertain, but it had been bright like gold and he’d been deliriously happy.
Now he was faced with years of bleakness, probably mostly spent being chased around a desk by his lecherous boss. There would be no great romance for him anymore. He’d had his once-in-a-lifetime chance, false as it was.
He picked his fedora up off Hoover’s desk and put it on his head, completing his crisply-stylish ensemble..
He would exploit his status as the Bureau’s rising star and Hoover’s Golden Boy as much as possible, accept the accolades for bringing in Public Enemy Number 1, and keep his pain locked away forever in a grieving heart.
What was his future? A life of gilt-edged fame, tarnished by the sordid (he glanced at Hoover’s desk), and ultimately hollow, a Potemkin façade.
He was reminded of the fairytale of Rumpelstilskin, who had granted the young peasant girl the magical ability to spin straw into gold, winning her love, a Queen’s crown, and happiness, but then the little black-hearted man had returned and threatened her with ruin.
All of his gold had turned back to straw, its glitter fading to dull, prickly nettles.
Mel left Hoover’s office to meet the eager press.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
I could have used either Mel or Billie for the dark-hearted one, but Johnny seemed the logical choice, since he affects so many people around him.
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Mel/Johnny/Billie, J. Edgar Hoover, Walter Mellon, Carter Baum, Charles Winstead, Doris Rogers
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: If you’re looking for happy ‘n’ fluffy, this ain’t it!
Spoilers: For the movie, natch. :)
Summary: Betrayal is the name of the game.
Date Of Completion: January 4, 2010
Date Of Posting: January 5, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 2073
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: This is very AU. Think Star Trek’s "Mirror, Mirror" episode or DC Comics’ Crime Syndicate Of America (evil counterparts of the Justice League Of America). There are many timelines and universes out there, and sometimes people wearing familiar faces are hiding different hearts.
The entire series can be found here.
Trickery and deceit,
Ah, so sweet.
Old Swedish Saying
19th Century C.E.
“Get out!”
Mel stared in shock at the man sneering at him in their shared hotel room, a car horn blaring by an angry driver somewhere in the distance.
“J…Johnny?”
“What’s the matter, G-Man? Got a hearing problem?”
“I…I thought…” A trembling hand brushed back his hair, still wet from the shower. His lovers were still rumpled and half-clad from their recent lovemaking.
“You thought what? That I’d want to have you clinging to me the rest of my life? I got Billie, and now that we’re clear of your precious Bureau, I don’t need you anymore.”
Mel looked at Billie, whose expression was sympathetic, but who said nothing.
Johnny smirked. "Do you think I’d want a Southern pansy when I’ve got a beautiful lady for my bed?” He twirled one of Billie’s curls around his finger. “I had to play grab-ass in prison, but I’m free now. And no more nancy boys.”
Mel still looked shell-shocked, liquid-dark eyes huge in his pale face.
“Little slow on the uptake, aren’t ya, Melvin?”
Johnny threw Mel’s suitcase at him, the former agent just managing to catch it before it slammed into his chest. Pain showed on his face as Johnny turned his back on him dismissively.
Mel looked ashamed, grasping for the handle of his valise mechanically. He grabbed his coat and fedora, the hat falling on the floor, and he bent down to pick it up with shaking fingers, almost dropping it again. He took one last look at Johnny and Billie and left the room quietly.
& & & & & &
Johnny smirked as he heard the door close. He could still get his little Southern bell to do anything he wanted.
“Johnny…”
“Don’t worry, darlin’.” He cupped Billie’s face. “Go draw us a bath, honey, then we’ll head for the airport.”
“Airport? I thought we were taking a ship to England.” She still looked unhappy, her gaze falling on the closed door through which Mel had departed.
“Change of plans, sweetheart.” His kissed her. “Go on, now.”
Johnny watched Billie walk to the bathroom. He’d always intended to take the plane to New York, then fly to France instead of England. Mel wouldn’t have a clue.
Story of your life, eh, Mel?
Johnny straightened the rumpled sheets on the bed. They still smelled of sex, courtesy of their recent lovemaking. One thing about Mel, he was great in bed. All that crap Johnny had said about only wanting women had been a lie. Easier that way to get rid of Pretty Purvis.
A pity, really. The fringe benefits were definitely tasty, but it was better to travel just with Billie. A threesome would attract too much attention.
Mel was no threat anymore. He was ruined, a disgraced man who had no power anymore. No agents would listen to him, cast out of Public Enemy No. 1’s bed.
Johnny finished straightening the bed. It had been so easy to manipulate Mel. Ever since seeing Purvis in the flesh in Tucson, Johnny had seen his hunger and knew he could use that against the agent.
Getting the man in bed had been surprisingly easy: a few sugary endearments, some tender kisses, and ol’ Mel had betrayed his fellow agents and thrown away his life to become John Dillinger’s bedmate, or whore, if some could be believed.
Johnny began undressing to join Billie in the tub. Billie was the perfect partner. She’d never make a respectable marriage because of her half-Indian heritage, and so it was either life as a hatcheck girl or join with him. She’d chosen him. Smart woman.
And he treated her good. Didn’t smack her around or call her nasty names because of her blood. He bought her nice clothes, jewelry and presents, and the sex was great.
Okay, she’d had to do double duty with Mel in their bed, but that hadn’t been hard. Mel was sweet and considerate, a little too squishy-soft for Johnny’s taste, but Billie liked it.
Well, he’d had to jettison Mel. Pretty enough bedwarmer, but his usefulness was done.
He tossed his clothes on a chair and went into the bathroom with a smirk.
& & & & & &
“Got everything, doll?”
Billie nodded as she snapped her suitcase shut, her hair still damp. They’d gotten a little enthusiastic in the tub.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
“Mel? What the hell? I threw you out…!”
Federal agents poured in after the man in the impeccably-tailored charcoal-gray suit. Johnny yelled in rage as he reached for his gun, a quick, young agent knocking it away.
“Mr. Dillinger, you are under arrest.”
The honeyed Southern tones that had always pleased Johnny now rankled him as he fought the agents grabbing him. Any regrets he had about booting Mel out were long gone.
“You fuckin’ two-faced traitor!”
Billie was quiet as handcuffs were snapped on her wrists. She seemed resigned to her fate.
Mel’s face was expressionless as Johnny screamed curses at him, the agents dragging him out of the room.
Again, Billie appeared sympathetic but said nothing as she was led away, Johnny’s rage echoing down the hall.
& & & & & &
“Excellent work, my boy, excellent work.”
J. Edgar Hoover was positively beaming, unable to sit still behind his massive desk. He was walking back-and-forth in his office as Mel sat calmly in the chair in front of the desk, his white seersucker suit without a single crease. His matching fedora rested on the desk.
“It was a difficult assignment, to be sure.” Distaste flickered across Mel’s face. “I did what had to be done, but it was not pleasurable…consorting…with such a…type.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll gloss over that part and play up you becoming a trusted confidante instead of…well, as I said, we’ll gloss over that.” Hoover came around the desk, standing close to Mel’s chair, his knee nearly touching his subordinate’s thigh. “Anything you want is yours, my boy. Dillinger is in Michigan City and won’t be escaping from there like from Crown Point. Once he’s convicted of O’Malley’s murder, it’ll be the electric chair for him. I’ll make sure you get a front-row seat.”
Hoover offered Mel a cigarette from his silver case. Mel took it and Hoover lit it with a monogrammed lighter. Mel took a deep drag, blowing out a ring of smoke.
“I’ll see if they’re ready for you downstairs. This will be your moment to shine.” Hoover squeezed his agent’s knee. “You wait here, son.”
Hoover left the office, closing the door behind him.
& & & & & &
Mel took another drag, the hand holding the cigarette shaking. The silence of the office was almost oppressive, muted sounds of traffic coming up from the street below.
He didn’t know if Hoover believed his story of going undercover in order to bring Dillinger in, or it was just because it was to his advantage to do so.
He closed his eyes as he remembered wandering around the streets of Augusta, Maine, like a lost soul (exactly that), practically kicked out of Johnny’s bed, the smell of him still on his skin, suitcase heavy in his hand…
& & & & & &
What was he going to do? Where could he go? He had betrayed the Bureau and was a wanted man. He had fallen for hypnotic amber eyes and now was completely ruined.
He felt hollow inside, pain twisting in his heart.
All a lie.
He’d been a fool, a damn fool, for believing a single word of that master manipulator’s.
He’d loved Johnny, body and soul, and all the while, the man he’d loved had held nothing in his heart for him but contempt.
He’d given up everything for him.
It began to rain, a light drizzle, and the suitcase dragged on his shoulder.
All his worldly goods.
He was cut off from friends, family, his job, his trust fund…how could he find employment with a face so well-known from newspapers and newsreels? What was he going to do?
He stopped and looked up, surprised that he was standing in front of the Federal building. Inside there would be a Bureau office, since this was a state capital.
This was it, his last chance. Maybe he wouldn’t be doomed to be a ghost, wandering on the fringes of life in permanent exile.
Despite the pain every time he took a breath, Mel walked in.
& & & & & &
The SAC had been Walter Mellon, an old friend who had reacted with shock upon seeing Mel materialize in his office. Maybe he’d been skeptical of his friend’s story, but the chance to capture John Dillinger was too good to pass up.
Mel had woven a tale of complete deceit, pretending to be deeply undercover while a part of him withered away as he locked away the pain in a corner of his wounded heart.
Whether people like Hoover or Walter believed him or not didn’t matter. They would keep any suspicions quiet because it benefited them.
His father might not believe his undercover story, either, but like the others, it suited him to at least publicly back his story. His running off with Johnny had stained the family name, but now he was a hero, the man who’d brought in Public Enemy Number 1. Honor restored. His father would welcome his Prodigal Son back with open arms.
Would his friends and colleagues look at him with anything but distrust and suspicion? Would men like Carter and Charles accept him back into the fold, or always wait for him to betray them again? He had seen the way they’d looked at him: Carter with sadness in his eyes that hurt, Charles with a coolness that cut.
And of course he’d lied about his distaste for sleeping with a man. Maybe he could convince Hoover of the lie, keep himself on the straight and narrow, ha, ha.
His breath hitched with pain.
A knock on the door startled him. Doris came in.
“Miss Frechette asked me to give this to you.”
Mel accepted the note. He could see the sympathy in Doris’ brown eyes.
“Thank you, Doris.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something but instead squeezed his shoulder and left the room.
Mel took a deep breath and opened the note.
& & & & & &
Dear Mel,
Don’t be too hard on yourself. Johnny is a master manipulator. He reads a person’s heart and uses that knowledge against that person.
For what it’s worth, I enjoyed our time together.
Do what you have to do to protect yourself.
Billie
& & & & & &
Mel’s hand shook as he read the piece of paper. So, at least one other person besides Johnny definitely knew the truth, and she would never tell.
He carefully re-folded the note and put it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
Doris apologetically poked her head into the office again.
“They’re ready for you.”
Mel nodded and Doris closed the door. He rose from the chair.
When he’d run off with Johnny and Billie, his future had been uncertain, but it had been bright like gold and he’d been deliriously happy.
Now he was faced with years of bleakness, probably mostly spent being chased around a desk by his lecherous boss. There would be no great romance for him anymore. He’d had his once-in-a-lifetime chance, false as it was.
He picked his fedora up off Hoover’s desk and put it on his head, completing his crisply-stylish ensemble..
He would exploit his status as the Bureau’s rising star and Hoover’s Golden Boy as much as possible, accept the accolades for bringing in Public Enemy Number 1, and keep his pain locked away forever in a grieving heart.
What was his future? A life of gilt-edged fame, tarnished by the sordid (he glanced at Hoover’s desk), and ultimately hollow, a Potemkin façade.
He was reminded of the fairytale of Rumpelstilskin, who had granted the young peasant girl the magical ability to spin straw into gold, winning her love, a Queen’s crown, and happiness, but then the little black-hearted man had returned and threatened her with ruin.
All of his gold had turned back to straw, its glitter fading to dull, prickly nettles.
Mel left Hoover’s office to meet the eager press.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
I could have used either Mel or Billie for the dark-hearted one, but Johnny seemed the logical choice, since he affects so many people around him.