Hell's Around The Corner, Part I.
WOULDJA LOOK AT THIS. 20'S FIC!
Title: Hell's Around The Corner (But The Trip Ain't Free)
Rating: R to NC-17. This one's R.
Disclaimer: Tin Man is nooot mine.
Summary: When Cain moved to the city, he was intent on taking down the crime lord that controlled it. But the crime lord has other ideas. And that's when everything goes to hell.
Hell’s Around The Corner
(But The Trip Ain’t Free)
You Might Get An Example Before The Real Deal (but it sure ain’t with no Virgil)
The black end of his cigarette flared red for a moment, smoke blowing out of his mouth as ash was tapped off the end, lips still drawn in a thin line as they sat in relative darkness. “The guy’s trouble,” he said, looking around the room. The roar of drunks, whores, dancing and jazz outside the room leaked in through the tiny crack between the floor and the door. “I say we take care of him before any of that trouble gets to us.”
“You always say that,” one of the women said dryly. “Get them before they get you. Do you have any other mode other than self-preservation?”
“It’s not just me I’m looking to preserve,” the man snapped back. “I know this guy. I’ve seen this guy in action. He’s going to be on us like hounds on a fox-”
“Good thing I’m a very, very crafty fox then, isn’t it?” another voice interrupted lightly. A coin - a specially made coin, one that ticked under the glass and silver - flicked through the air and was caught, the owner looking at the side up. “No running him out of town. We’ll see how good he really is.” There was a slight smile. “We’ll see if he can see gray instead of just black and white.”
“And for us non-enigmatic people that means what,” the woman said dryly, earning a light laugh.
“It means we’re going to play with him and see if he can tell who’s really protecting the city.”
“You know I’d advise you against that,” another woman said, voice calm and concerned.
He looked over at her and smiled. “I know, just like you know why I do all of this. I’ll be careful and cautious and considerate and all of that. I’d never jeopardize any of you.”
“Caution most important,” one of the men managed to finally say, and he smiled and nodded at the other man.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised, flipping the ticking coin one more time and catching it, putting the thing back in the pocket of his suit. “Meeting adjourned, I guess. Go have fun.”
The rustle of masks being put on was followed by the clack and whispers of guns being holstered, and the group walked out into the speakeasy, leaving only one man inside the room, staring at his ticking coin, and plotting.
---
The familiar sound of blinds crashing against a door’s window as it slammed shut made Cain wince. He’d heard it plenty of times before, and every time it had grated against his ears. It was the sound of the law’s bureaucracy, the police’s system of hoops you had to jump through to get anything. It was a hint of all the politics that seemed to fuel everything nowadays. That wasn’t the system Cain worked for. That was just the system he was paid by.
The man had rounded the desk fast, sitting down in his tilting wooden chair, shaking his head. “You may have been a big-shot in Denver, Cain, but it’s a whole new league here. Doesn’t matter that you took down some crime lord - that was there, this is here,” DeMilo said, making sure to put the ‘there’ hand much lower than the ‘here’ hand. “If I put you on this case, you’re gonna be shot in three days. Shot, or permanently missing. Nobody else is on it because guess what? If they are, they die, and there are some risks that just aren’t worth it.”
“I wouldn’t ask for it if I didn’t want it,” Cain said, trying to keep his patience with the man. A case that killed seemed the type most worth the risk, but he doubted DeMilo would understand that. “It’s open, and I’m willing to take it. Just brief me, give me the folder, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
DeMilo looked at him for a very long time, and then shrugged, opening the folder and pulling out pictures, walking over to a corkboard and grabbing pins and string, speaking as he put up pictures. Cain blinked at the one that went at the very top - it was nothing but a sketch of a man in a simple black mask with gold braiding around the edges. It went from forehead to cheeks. DeMilo caught his gaze, and snorted, pointing straight at the picture. “Ambrose. This is the bigwig. The guy you’re after. Every speakeasy in the city requires masks, and if you don’t have the right type for the right joint, you’re politely thrown into a back alley. If you see this mask? You run. We only have the sketch from what crooks have told us during interrogation, and half of them ended up dead in a day.”
He continued, putting up an actual picture of a woman in an intricate white mask with layers of blues around it. It was blurry, and showed a man in a white and yellow lion mask walking out of a door with her. The colors were obviously added in with crayon, but it showed the important things. DeMilo pointed at them. “The Queen. Raw. We don’t know exactly what The Queen does, but she’s never alone. Raw’s the lord of the muscle, but no matter how bad that sounds, you don’t have to run. We’ve never caught him committing any assault crimes, never seen him even cross a street without a crosswalk.”
Another picture, this one lower on the board and of a blurry, smirking face. “Zero. The actual muscle, commonly called their assassin.”
“I’ve seen him before,” Cain frowned, and DeMilo nodded.
“He did a lot of professional traveling. Probably hit someone in Denver while you were there. The man does a surprisingly clean job,” DeMilo added. “Showed up here about three years ago and we haven’t heard of a single job outside the city by him. Whatever Ambrose has keeping him here, it’s a hell of a leash.” Cain just nodded, looking at the picture for a longer moment, and then nearly gaping as DeMilo stuck up two pictures next to The Queen and Raw, each of a beautiful young woman.
“Dellia,” he said, pointing to the older, more somber one, the picture decent but still fuzzy. “Gale.” That was the smiling, almost pristine picture on the right. “If you touch either one, you die. There’s a lot of speculation that they’re Ambrose and The Queen’s daughters, even though Glitch laughs like a loon every time someone suggests it.”
Cain blinked. “Glitch?” What kind of a name was that?
DeMilo just smirked, and tagged on the very last picture, in the lower left corner. A grinning, disheveled man with chin-length twisted hair and looking like he hadn’t seen the light of day in years, or at least the people who walked around in it. He was even wearing a smock. “This is Glitch. Think of him as the go-between, even though I doubt the idiot has a clue he is. Gale herself works in his watch-and-mask shop, along with a cop named Ahamo. Ahamo says he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread - funny, good at his job, a good boss, caring, all that. Gale does the mask designs when Glitch makes them. She works the mask counter, and he works the watches. And the best part?” DeMilo grinned. “Glitch is such a clueless blabbermouth he doesn’t have any idea that he’s our number one and only reliable snitch.”
“But at the same time he makes and fixes watches and masks,” Cain said dryly.
“Oh, and knives,” DeMilo nodded, sticking pointless strings between the pictures. “But you need both Gale and Ahamo to tell him to make those. No clue why it takes two of them for it. Probably just needs enough incentive. The guy treats those two like family.”
Cain found himself feeling a bit sorry for the man. He looked genuinely happy in that picture, and the idea he didn’t know what the police were using him for was almost sickening.
“I’ll go meet Glitch, then,” Cain said, already standing up and grabbing the folder.
“Cain,” DeMilo called out, and he turned. “There’s rumors that Glitch knows Ambrose. Rumors they’re even related. Ahamo says he’s seen some very strange people talk to Glitch in his workroom and he comes out fidgeting even more. Rumors that Glitch is the younger brother who got a bad knock on the head, if you know what I mean.”
Cain had absolutely no idea what a meeting like that would have to do with a blood relation with a crime lord. It sounded more like a shakedown about the masks more than anything else, but he just nodded and said “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You already lost your wife to this stuff, Cain, I don’t want you to lose your boy too,” DeMilo said, and Cain froze.
“What I lose is my own business,” he said darkly, and walked out the door, clutching the folder tightly and flipping straight to the address of Glitch’s shop.
---
It was later in the day than Cain would have liked to walk into Glitch’s shop, late enough that a very surprised Ahamo was already putting on his coat and ready to walk on out. The blond man stared at him for a disturbingly long time, and then smiled. “What can we do for you? We’re about to close, but commerce never sleeps.”
“Oh, go home already,” a voice shouted out from the back, and Cain almost jumped from the way it echoed through the shop. “And take Gale with you - she’s not nearly as good as she thinks she is at hiding that cold! Get her some soup and an overprotective sister.”
Gale walked out of the back, sighing, head tilted back almost to look at the ceiling. When she caught sight of Cain, she stared for a while too. Stared, and then turned around to sneeze. Her nose was red, her face was paler than it should have been, and she obviously knew it and didn’t like the idea. “You can’t just take care of the shop all by yourself, Gli-li-li-” Gale sneezed again, following it up with a cough and then a scowl at her handkerchief.
“Ahamo, please walk her home?” a man said much closer, and Cain jumped slightly when he realized that Glitch, in all his frazzled hair and smock-wearing glory, had walked out and was leaning against the back wall, frowning and wearing glasses clearly made for fixing clockwork. It made him look like a mad scientist, emphasizing the mad, with or without the half-frown, half-pout on his lips. “I don’t want Gale falling down and having some sort of…of sneezing fit or something.”
“Sneezing doesn’t kill people, but I’ll walk her,” Ahamo nodded with a smile. That earned him a glare from Gale, but a ridiculously happy grin from Glitch. “But the shop-”
“There’s one customer! I can deal with one customer,” Glitch frowned, finally pulling off the glasses and stuffing them into a pocket of the smock. “Mask or watch.”
“Watch,” Cain said, and practically sighed when he pulled out his poor battered pocket watch. “It’s off by at least half an hour.”
All three of the workers winced at the look of the thing, which made Cain frown and hold it a bit defensively. Admittedly it was one of the most beat-up things they’d probably ever seen. It was actually a miracle the thing was still even around, and he meant to keep that miracle around. “It’s got a lot of sentimental value,” he muttered.
Apparently that was the right thing to say, because Glitch walked over and held out a…white-powdered hand with tiny flashes of black on his fingertips. Made sense - white for the papier-mâché masks, the black being oil. He hesitated, but finally Cain put his watch carefully in Glitch’s hand.
“Go ahead,” Glitch said, although they were hesitating. Gale sneezed again, and Glitch rolled his eyes, pointing straight at the door. “I’ll lock it behind you both, okay?”
“What’s your name, mister?” Gale asked, and Cain found himself actually intimidated by a young woman with the sniffles, just because of how dangerous those eyes had suddenly gone.
“Gale-” Glitch began, but Cain nodded at her.
“Wyatt Cain,” he said, and even pulled off the hat. “Just moved here from Denver.”
“Explains the brand on the back,” Glitch muttered behind him, and Cain glanced back to see Glitch had the glasses back on and was heading for the back, bumping his hip into a table on the way there with a mutter of, “I always do that. Should move that thing.”
The two hesitated, but finally Gale sneezed again, and the two nodded at him, opening the door after Ahamo flipped the sign to say the store was closed. “I’ll take care of your billing if Glitch forgets,” Ahamo said simply, and Cain could practically hear the ‘we will hunt you down and hurt you if you do something to him’ in those words. He could see why DeMilo seemed to worry whether the guy was more cop or shop worker at this point.
“I’ll remind him,” Cain promised with a nod, only to be interrupted with a shout from the back.
“Christ, did this thing have a bullet go through it?!”
Cain winced. Gale just started laughing. “Better go on back.”
“Did it?” Ahamo asked as he opened the door for Gale, looking genuinely intrigued.
Cain just shook his head. Ahamo nodded, and walked out the door, locking it behind him.
“It almost had a bullet go through it,” Cain called back, fidgeting where he was for a moment before finally telling himself he was being an idiot and walked into the back. Three-fourths of the back room was taken up by masks, the other fourth clockwork and tools, and Glitch was sitting at a bench, the right side of his lips scrunched together as he tinkered with the watch.
“What’d it go through first, then?” Glitch muttered almost accusingly. “Poor watch.”
Cain raised a slightly amused eyebrow. “It was either me or a ding on the watch. I kind of prefer being alive to having my pocket watch good as new.”
“I can make it good as new,” Glitch muttered, and Cain’s mouth dropped open when it seemed like just about the entire thing popped open, every tiny cog and even the clock face clinking down to the bench.
“I thought you’d fix it!” Cain said, and nearly went to pick up the pieces, until he found Glitch in those weird glasses looking at him, pointing a thin screwdriver at his chest.
“And who here makes and fixes watches, hmm?” he asked lightly. “Or is this the sentimental value part?”
“You just destroyed my watch!” Cain said disbelievingly, pointing at the mess on the counter.
The other man actually laughed. “Oh, that! No, I didn’t destroy it, I just took it apart.” He held up the casing, pointing to the ding in the back. The spot that had finally stopped the bullet. “I wanna get this fella out of here first, see? Wrecks the whole thing if the case isn’t right. It’d be like a…” He paused. “Like a really poorly fitting mask, really. Need one of those too? I mean, with Gale gone that means I can just do the design all on my own.” Glitch smiled a bit sheepishly. “Practically a present, so…I guess it’d be free.”
…well, that logic made absolutely no sense in Cain’s mind, but one thing definitely stood out through this entire conversation.
“Why does everyone claim you’re an idiot?” he asked, and Glitch nearly dropped one of the cogs to the floor he was so surprised by the question. “You’re obviously a genius with clocks, you’re an artist too, and you manage to be such a good boss that your employees don’t want to leave when one’s practically ordered to and the other has a bad cold!”
“…mister, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Glitch muttered, but his face had paled, hands shaking slightly while he still managed to competently work on the watch. “I’m just…I’m just Glitch, okay?”
Cain shook his head, almost angry about this for some reason. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re Glitch, but not just Glitch.” Cain paused. “Is someone out to get you?”
“So how about that mask,” Glitch said, immediately dropping everything else and literally grabbing Cain by the lapels of his coat, yanking him towards the other side of the room with a determined fake smile and stuck him in a chair. “Promise I won’t suffocate you, but I need to get the mold, okay?”
“What-” Cain began, only to have two disks put over his eyes. They felt like coins or something. He gasped at the feel of something very, very cold being layered on his face. “What does this have to do with a mask?” It was absolutely freezing, but Glitch just kept going.
“I’m giving you a type four,” the other man said cheerily. “Fully customized fit. Means I have to get the pattern of your head. Move your features around a bit, though. Act kinda like you’re making faces at a baby.”
“Making faces at a baby,” Cain repeated, trying to understand what exactly was going on in that tick-tock brain of Glitch’s.
“Scowl, look surprised, just…stretch!” The cold turned to a hot that made him clutch at the arms of the chair. Certainly got a surprised look out of him too, which in turn earned a, “there, you see? Easy to do,” from Glitch.
He frowned, biting his lower lip as more of the warmth coated over the cold. “Is this some sort of torture?”
“Nope! And you know, Gale’s charged fifty dollars just for a custom fitting, not even adding in the design cost,” Glitch added.
“People pay fifty dollars for this?”
“No, Gale makes them pay fifty dollars. Sometimes I just don’t know where she came by her bookkeeping skills, I tell you. Some men and women come in and she only charges for the design.”
Cain found himself smirking. “Aren’t you supposed to be unobservant and ignorant?”
That cold stuff was immediately slapped over his mouth. “Maybe we’ll go for a full-face mask,” Glitch muttered, and Cain couldn’t help it. He started laughing behind the strips of cold. “What? What’d I do now?” The cold moved away from his lips, and Cain grinned.
“You’re just-” he began, and then paused, realizing he’d nearly said cute. “You’re funny.” The hot on his face was getting less warm, much to Cain’s relief.
“Well at least I entertain you while I work,” Glitch sighed, and Cain could hear the scraping of a chair being pulled up next to the chair. “So, what’s your name, watch-shooter?”
“I didn’t shoot the watch,” Cain scowled. “And it’s Cain.”
“First or last?”
“Last, and my first name is Wyatt, and don’t make fun of it.”
“Are you related to any Earps?”
“No.”
Cain waited for the joke, but only got a contemplative noise. “The mask’s going to be setting for a while longer. I’ll be working on the watch, alright?”
“You’re acting like a dentist.”
“…okay?” Glitch said, clearly confused, but went back to the nearby bench.
“Dentists say that when they stick a cap on your tooth. ‘It’s going to be molding itself to your tooth for a while, so I’m going to be over here flirting with the secretary.’”
“I’m not flirting with your watch, Cain,” Glitch said, and there was a light chuckle. “Think she’s a one-man watch anyway, if she’d stick herself in front of a bullet for you. Got her heart set, even if she can’t tell you the time of day.”
“So you’re also either a hopeless romantic or a poet, too,” Cain added.
There was a thud from across the room, and angry footsteps strode back over, Glitch sitting down firmly in the other chair. “Why exactly are you so determined to get all this information out of me, Cain? Why do you need to figure me out? I’m giving you a mask, now just…just let me keep mine, understand?”
Cain sighed. “I don’t pity you, but I don’t like it when people are being used or harassed. You probably already figured it out, but I’m a cop.” He paused, waiting for any sort of answer to that, but Glitch was silent, so he just kept going. “I signed up to help people, and it seems like you need help.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a while.”
“Good for you, but now you have help,” Cain said simply, and nearly screamed at the absolute pain that came from the mold suddenly being yanked off his face, coins included.
Glitch still had on the glasses, and he was looking at the mostly-hardened mold. “You have no idea what you’re saying,” he said lightly. “I’m going to pretend you’re drunk, and you can come in tomorrow for the Gale-approved mask, designed and everything. It’d still be free, because I said it’d be free. You can have the watch back tomorrow, too.”
Cain frowned - and felt for his eyebrows, and was happy to note they were still there - and stood up from the chair. “Why does everyone keep saying I don’t know what I’m getting into?”
“Because you don’t,” Glitch said lightly. “No masks, fine. I know who you are, I know what you managed to do in Denver, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to be trying the same thing here.” He turned the mold around and pulled the two coins out from the eyes, tossing them towards Cain. The cop caught the nickels, surprised. “…you know what? Let’s show you. Explain it to you.”
He blinked at the watchmaker. “Show it to me?”
Without any explanation, Glitch pointed to the back door. “You can come back in an hour and a half. Your watch will take ‘til morning, but your mask…” Even with so many layers of glass, Cain could see the glint of something in those brown eyes as he was shooed out the door. “That’s what you’re coming back for. Suit, tie, hat, go for blues. The color, not the music. And then I’ll show you what you’re pitting yourself against.”
Cain frowned. “Glitch-”
“I don’t need protecting, you do,” Glitch snapped out, and Cain flailed a bit when the other man literally pushed him out the door, Cain nearly falling onto the brick of the alleyway. “Hour and a half, copper Cain.”
“Hold on-” Cain began, only to have the door slammed in his face, the telltale noises of lock after lock being slid and clicked into place telling Cain everything he needed to know. He ignored the fact he’d just been thrown out of someone’s shop simply for his pride, and took a deep breath, composing himself and noticing the two nickels still in his hand.
He slid them into his pants pocket, and headed home.
---
Jeb Cain was sick of boxes. Sick of packing them up and unpacking them although he’d been promised this would be the last time for a while. He was sick and tired of doing nothing but studying for the police exam he knew his father would never let him take, solving the mysteries of where other apartment tenants’ cats had run off to, sick of the three boxes still labeled with his mother’s name that they kept anyway, never opened, but always kept in a corner. The boxes were stored almost as if they were waiting for her to come back in the house right along with the smiles and unpack them, chatting away and making everything okay again.
His boxes were unpacked and in the small room that served as his, the ones that belonged to his father mostly unpacked, and the boxes labeled Adora were almost blocking the front door. Jeb liked them there. The thud that came from every time the door opened was almost horrifyingly satisfying, because that meant someone was being reminded she’d been alive not so long ago. That she hadn’t died that long ago, either.
Jeb was studying for the test he’d never get to take out of a book he’d practically memorized at their shoddy dinner table when he heard that thud and the pause that followed it before the door closed behind his father.
“We should probably move those boxes,” his father said, just like every other time he’d come home, but this time he was already heading into his bedroom, acting like he actually had something to do and a limited timeframe for it, too.
Jeb frowned, looking into the other room. “Father?”
“Work,” he said simply, and closed the door, leaving Jeb with the frayed book and plenty of questions, especially when he came out in the navy-blue suit and the light blue shirt and…lots of blue.
“Aren’t you taking ‘boys in blue’ a little too literally?” Jeb asked, gaping at the ensemble and earning a frown from his father. “Let me guess. Work.”
“Jeb, you know I-”
“I know,” he said, cutting his father off before he started with the you’ll always be priority number one talk. Jeb knew his father meant every word of it, but that didn’t stop the fact that while Wyatt Cain loved his son more than anything else, he didn’t spend more time with him. Barely spent any time together, really. Always work. “Go save the city. I’ll be here when you get back.”
His father hesitated for a moment, and then pulled out two nickels, putting them on the table. “In case you get bored,” he explained, and left with one more pause at the boxes.
Jeb put the coins in a pocket and grabbed his coat, wrapping his scarf a bit tighter around his neck while he was at it, not wanting to lose the thing beneath the coat.
He walked out with the same pause at the boxes, but he reassured himself at the sight of those letters. If his father was going to put himself at risk like this, Jeb was going to be right behind him. Just in case.
Jeb hadn’t lied when he’d said he would be there when his father got back. He locked the door behind him, smiling a bit bitterly as Widow Murphy’s cat (his first ‘case’ in the building so far) decided to curl up around him for a moment. The cat gave a surprised meow when Jeb’s foot slipped aside almost effortlessly and he headed down the stairs without a sound.
He didn’t have a gun yet, wasn’t sure he could fight anyone off without a weapon, couldn’t even talk his way out of anything, but Jeb could sure as hell shadow someone better than anyone else he’d ever heard of.
But then again, not hearing of them was the point, wasn’t it?
---
Glitch’s back door was already half-open when Cain got there, and Glitch was dressed just about how he had been, aside from losing the smock, putting on a black jacket, and wearing a red mask with black and white braiding along the edge and then making a zigzag pattern across the nose and connecting the top and bottom. He looked completely unsurprised at Cain’s entrance, and was already holding out a dark blue mask. It was nothing but blue with a painted zigzag matching Glitch’s - comparatively, nothing fancy.
“Didn’t have much time to finish the mask?” Cain asked, looking at the thing.
Glitch immediately walked behind him and snatched the mask back, putting it on Cain’s face and tying it on, all business. “This isn’t your mask. This is the mask that’s getting you in and out without dying, even if it’s a one-time-only gig.”
Cain frowned suspiciously behind the mask. “Glitch?”
“You’re a…well.” The other man paused. “Okay, you’re a hooker.”
“A what?!” Cain shouted out, only to have a hand clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t see Glitch, but he knew he was getting glared at.
“The only way you’re getting in and out without some kind of inspection is like this, and trust me, I thought for a while for some more reasonable excuse because you don’t look a thing like the male hookers. I look more like one than you do, and that isn’t saying much,” Glitch said quickly. “I’m going to show you the Royals, and then we are leaving. Less notice you get, more chance you stay alive long enough to get out of town, alright?”
The word Royals certainly resonated with him, remembering the woman known only as The Queen. Underground ‘courts’ were common enough, and he’d have almost been surprised if a crime lord like Ambrose didn’t have one. He nodded, and Glitch carefully removed his hand.
“I…” Glitch hesitated. “I don’t go in there much. I go for Gale, you know? Sometimes she has bad nights and needs a friend instead of…of…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I’ll be more of an oddity than you, so…don’t talk, okay?”
“Don’t talk?”
“And would you stop repeating what I say!” Glitch shouted, practically stomping his foot on the ground. Cain was a bit surprised to notice perfectly shined and extremely fashionable shoes, but Glitch was going on about what else was wrong with Cain, so he just stood through it until the other man finally slowed down and scratched the top of his head, looking around the back room of the shop. He looked at something Cain couldn’t see out the door for a while, and then went back to Cain, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the back door.
“So where are we going?” Cain asked as Glitch locked up the door.
“Finaqua,” Glitch said immediately. “Still have the nickels?”
Cain frowned. “Gave them to my boy, why? Am I supposed to?”
“No no no, that’s fine,” Glitch said, actually sounding slightly relieved. “Less questions, more safety, I’m glad you don’t have them.” He let Cain’s hand go, but still walked close to him, and spoke quietly. “Any enemies already in the city?”
“Not that I know of,” Cain said, and Glitch nodded. “Why?”
“A list,” Glitch said idly, turning left. “Any vengeful ex-lovers?”
“I just moved here, Glitch,” Cain muttered irritably, and the other man frowned at him beneath the mask.
“I’m just making sure you don’t walk into trouble,” he said, almost pouting. “I’m showing you the danger, not throwing you into it. Oh, and we’re probably going to have to kiss, since you’re a…you know.”
“I’m a prostitute.”
“Yeah.”
Cain shook his head. “Glitch, you amaze me.”
“Thanks!” Glitch grinned, and Cain suddenly cursed himself for not watching where they were going. Glitch was waving his hand around and immediately launching into small talk about the sewers being clean, and they walked over to what at first looked like a manhole, until Cain noticed with quite a bit of surprise the fact that the ‘manhole’ lifted up to show a stairway beneath it. The manhole and cement was nothing but a painted bit of wood. It was no wonder the police hadn’t found this ‘Finaqua’ place, or any other speakeasy joint, if this was the kind of entrances they had.
“Whuzzat? Glitch?” A voice shouted, and Glitch jumped as a man appeared out of the side of the staircase. “What you doing ‘round here? Thought you were off playing, you know?”
Glitch laughed a bit uneasily. “Well, can’t play all the time, you know? But it’s just me and my, um.” He actually blushed. “Myoutoftownguest.”
The man grinned a bit viciously, mask doing nothing to disguise the bullying tendency in those eyes.
“He said his out of town guest,” Cain said, and smiled, hoping it looked more like a smile than a sneer. The man blinked at him, and then simply nodded, pulling a rope. The stairs went up, and there was another set leading down, and another door. The sound of jazz and a riotous party was barely contained by it.
“Come on,” Glitch muttered, and slung an arm around Cain’s waist, opening the door to a dazzling bit of blues and greens and golds all over, a band playing and liquor flowing like a river from the bar, more than half-drunk men and women doing whatever the hell they felt like, occasionally including each other in the open room, leaving Cain gaping.
That was stopped rather quickly when Glitch’s mouth latched onto his open one, giving him a kiss that had Cain staring at him instead of the room. “You’re my guest, you’re used to these sorts of places, and you will not stare or talk or you will die, okay?”
“Oka-” He stopped at the finger pointing at his mouth, and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and simply nodded. Apparently that was the right answer because he got a dazzlingly bright smile.
“Now. Royals, and run,” Glitch said, all grins and laughter, making Cain wonder how good an actor the man really was. He led him through the room and towards a raised area, where a dark-haired woman in a green and black mask was waving at Glitch with a smile. He waved back, and spoke through the smile. “I’m going to have to talk. I will probably end up having to kiss you repeatedly. Got it?”
Cain forced a smile at him and nodded, running a hand up a very startled Glitch’s back, and then squeezed the man’s shoulder. Hard. Glitch yelped a little bit and muttered something about biting, but was walking them up to the raised area.
“Dellia,” Glitch beamed, and the woman smiled, leaning over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. A woman in a mask Cain immediately recognized as The Queen’s smiled at him, and Glitch fumbled forward to kiss the top of her hand, earning a laugh from the woman and her daughter. Cain looked at the rest of the table - the elegant Queen sitting at the head, Dellia at her side, with a man on the Queen’s side in a pure white lion mask. “Raw! Haven’t seen you in forever!”
Even with the nearly full-face mask, Cain could see the glare that earned Glitch, and the uneasy laughter sounded actually genuine. As far as Cain could tell, at least.
“I’m afraid Gale isn’t here, Glitch,” Dellia said smoothly, a smile on her lips. “She has a horrible cold. You had to practically kick her out of the store, remember? Ahamo even walked her home, no matter how much she was griping.”
Glitch laughed lightly. “Yep, that sounds like Gale!” His hands were fidgeting, and the Queen cleared her throat, making Glitch immediately turn towards her. “…what, what’s wrong?”
“Ambrose,” she said simply, and Cain tightened his grip just a bit more on Glitch’s shoulder. Considering how tense the shoulder was, he doubted the other man noticed. “He’s stopping over to discuss some things with Raw.”
“Well!” Glitch’s laugh was a bit forced, and Cain started to wonder why the other man insisted he didn’t need protecting if Ambrose’s name got this sort of a reaction out of him. “Don’t want to get in the way of a meeting, you know? We’ll just go.”
“But we haven’t met your toy,” Dellia said, voice nothing but amused as she leaned across the table, the fringe on her matching green dress sliding across the table. “Sure doesn’t look like the average toy, but you’ve never really been one to go with the status quo, have you.”
“Nope! Not me!” Glitch grinned, and tightened his grip around Cain’s waist. “This is…Abel Holladay.”
Raw snorted, and the Queen hid a laugh behind her hand as Dellia didn’t, laughing outright. “Well, the name certainly fits the job, I’ll give you that.”
“Ha! Yeah. Well, we’ll be off now-”
“Ambrose!” Dellia shouted out, waving at some corner of the room, and Glitch’s eyes widened. “Sorry, we switched tables, too much sodomy in that corner for Raw’s taste, he hates watching-”
Cain knew Glitch was panicking, so he took the matter into his own hands, finding a decently far away wall and kissing Glitch so hard the man had to get his wits about him. He absolutely had to, especially with the way his arms were flailing against the wall, finally wrapping back around Cain and kissing back just as hard and quite a bit frantic. “Pick me up,” Glitch said quickly, Dellia’s chatter growing more and more ominous as Glitch tugged him further into the room, and closer to the door. “Pick me up, we make out, and get out the door.”
Cain could do that. Glitch was skinny…well, more lithe, but still light, so he picked him up, Glitch’s legs wrapping around him as they just kept kissing, the masks knocking together obnoxiously as Cain eased them towards the door. They got whistled at, and at one point Glitch hissed out a frantic “oh fuck turn around turn around right now,” at which point Cain had obeyed, Glitch had covered most of Cain’s hair and features with his face and hands, and a couple pairs of footsteps had passed them by, leaving them both sagging and still a bit frantic and Cain had turned them back around so Glitch could watch, Cain could carry them, and they could both keep kissing, even though it was more…easy kissing. Usually. Occasionally Cain got frustrated enough to actually kiss Glitch, which was pretty nice. The other man sure knew what he was doing with that tongue, and Cain could fully admit that he didn’t mind learning that.
It was during one of those actual-kissing moments when they finally stumbled across the door, both of them panting and hair mussed from having to cover each other’s faces, masks askew and still kissing for no apparent reason. Finally Glitch pulled away, dropping off of Cain and leaning against him for a moment before he turned towards the stairwell. “Let us up,” he said, voice a bit hoarse.
“Didn’t hear the magic woooord,” the man called down with a snicker, and Cain gaped at the newest change in Glitch.
“Let us the fuck up or I swear you will earn a beating you will definitely forget, because your skull will be so bruised, if not something worse!” he snapped, hand going into one of his pockets, but the stairs were almost immediately raised. Glitch grabbed Cain’s stunned hand, yanking him up the stairs. When they reached the middle platform, the man was staring at them, but the stairs went back into place, and Glitch pulled Cain up those too, sending a “Thank you” back down as he lifted the cover of Finaqua and walked Cain out.
Glitch was glaring. “Do you get it now? Do you get it? If Ambrose had seen you, you’d be DEAD! Deceased! Gone! Swimming with the fishes! I hate that terminology, but apparently I may have to use it so you know what I’m talking about!”
“And what happens when he sees you?” Cain asked, voice a bit rougher than he’d meant for it to be.
“I haven’t died yet, and I’m not going to,” Glitch said, shaking his head and already walking away from Finaqua. “Gale watches out for me. I know who they are - who they both are - and believe it or not, that’s how I keep on living. I’ve taken beatings, but anyone in the city has.” He put out a hand as they turned a corner. “Give me the mask.”
Cain obeyed, and was stunned to watch Glitch pinch a point on the edge and then use the other hand to crush the thing into nothing but blue specks of dead papier-mâché, pulling the tie out with a whooshing noise. He watched the entire process, and looked straight at Glitch. “For some reason, I thought these meant more to you then that.”
“People mean more to me,” Glitch muttered, and was putting a key in a door - they were back at Glitch’s. How the man managed to throw off his sense of direction like that, Cain doubted he’d ever know. Glitch cleared his throat. “You said you have a son?”
“Jeb,” Cain nodded. “Twenty-one.”
Glitch blinked up at him, clearly stunned behind the mask. “What, you had a kid when you were fifteen or something?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I was sixteen and my wife was eighteen.”
“Shotgun wedding?” Glitch asked, and Cain glared.
“We’d been planning to get married since she was thirteen.”
“…ah.” Glitch stepped into the back entrance. “Well, um. Send him by tomorrow.” Cain didn’t understand that at all, and said as much, earning himself an irritated sigh. “Seems like your boy’s bored, is all. Plus you might as well let him do something that pays.”
“What are you getting at, Glitch.”
“If your son’s anything like you, he’ll understand immediately.” Glitch stepped in, and the mask and coat were off. He was already putting the glasses back on, and for some reason Cain started to hate those things, even if it was to work on his own watch. “Promise I’d never do anything to harm him, swear on my family’s graves that I only have you and your son’s best interests at heart, and since I can tell you’re not leaving, send him over.” He paused, and smiled a bit sheepishly at Cain. “Um. Thanks for saving us. I know you probably weren’t terribly happy with that-”
“It got us out safely,” Cain interrupted, putting a placating hand on Glitch’s shoulder. “Besides, you’re a pretty good kisser.”
Glitch stared at him. “…bwuh?”
Cain just laughed, shaking his head, and walked home.
---
And a very, very crafty fox began to carefully change his plans, grinning all the while as he watched his ticking coin spin on that scarcely-noticed third side that nobody seemed to care about.
---tbc---
Anyone wanna guess what I'm gonna do to Jeb? :D
Title: Hell's Around The Corner (But The Trip Ain't Free)
Rating: R to NC-17. This one's R.
Disclaimer: Tin Man is nooot mine.
Summary: When Cain moved to the city, he was intent on taking down the crime lord that controlled it. But the crime lord has other ideas. And that's when everything goes to hell.
Hell’s Around The Corner
(But The Trip Ain’t Free)
You Might Get An Example Before The Real Deal (but it sure ain’t with no Virgil)
The black end of his cigarette flared red for a moment, smoke blowing out of his mouth as ash was tapped off the end, lips still drawn in a thin line as they sat in relative darkness. “The guy’s trouble,” he said, looking around the room. The roar of drunks, whores, dancing and jazz outside the room leaked in through the tiny crack between the floor and the door. “I say we take care of him before any of that trouble gets to us.”
“You always say that,” one of the women said dryly. “Get them before they get you. Do you have any other mode other than self-preservation?”
“It’s not just me I’m looking to preserve,” the man snapped back. “I know this guy. I’ve seen this guy in action. He’s going to be on us like hounds on a fox-”
“Good thing I’m a very, very crafty fox then, isn’t it?” another voice interrupted lightly. A coin - a specially made coin, one that ticked under the glass and silver - flicked through the air and was caught, the owner looking at the side up. “No running him out of town. We’ll see how good he really is.” There was a slight smile. “We’ll see if he can see gray instead of just black and white.”
“And for us non-enigmatic people that means what,” the woman said dryly, earning a light laugh.
“It means we’re going to play with him and see if he can tell who’s really protecting the city.”
“You know I’d advise you against that,” another woman said, voice calm and concerned.
He looked over at her and smiled. “I know, just like you know why I do all of this. I’ll be careful and cautious and considerate and all of that. I’d never jeopardize any of you.”
“Caution most important,” one of the men managed to finally say, and he smiled and nodded at the other man.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised, flipping the ticking coin one more time and catching it, putting the thing back in the pocket of his suit. “Meeting adjourned, I guess. Go have fun.”
The rustle of masks being put on was followed by the clack and whispers of guns being holstered, and the group walked out into the speakeasy, leaving only one man inside the room, staring at his ticking coin, and plotting.
---
The familiar sound of blinds crashing against a door’s window as it slammed shut made Cain wince. He’d heard it plenty of times before, and every time it had grated against his ears. It was the sound of the law’s bureaucracy, the police’s system of hoops you had to jump through to get anything. It was a hint of all the politics that seemed to fuel everything nowadays. That wasn’t the system Cain worked for. That was just the system he was paid by.
The man had rounded the desk fast, sitting down in his tilting wooden chair, shaking his head. “You may have been a big-shot in Denver, Cain, but it’s a whole new league here. Doesn’t matter that you took down some crime lord - that was there, this is here,” DeMilo said, making sure to put the ‘there’ hand much lower than the ‘here’ hand. “If I put you on this case, you’re gonna be shot in three days. Shot, or permanently missing. Nobody else is on it because guess what? If they are, they die, and there are some risks that just aren’t worth it.”
“I wouldn’t ask for it if I didn’t want it,” Cain said, trying to keep his patience with the man. A case that killed seemed the type most worth the risk, but he doubted DeMilo would understand that. “It’s open, and I’m willing to take it. Just brief me, give me the folder, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
DeMilo looked at him for a very long time, and then shrugged, opening the folder and pulling out pictures, walking over to a corkboard and grabbing pins and string, speaking as he put up pictures. Cain blinked at the one that went at the very top - it was nothing but a sketch of a man in a simple black mask with gold braiding around the edges. It went from forehead to cheeks. DeMilo caught his gaze, and snorted, pointing straight at the picture. “Ambrose. This is the bigwig. The guy you’re after. Every speakeasy in the city requires masks, and if you don’t have the right type for the right joint, you’re politely thrown into a back alley. If you see this mask? You run. We only have the sketch from what crooks have told us during interrogation, and half of them ended up dead in a day.”
He continued, putting up an actual picture of a woman in an intricate white mask with layers of blues around it. It was blurry, and showed a man in a white and yellow lion mask walking out of a door with her. The colors were obviously added in with crayon, but it showed the important things. DeMilo pointed at them. “The Queen. Raw. We don’t know exactly what The Queen does, but she’s never alone. Raw’s the lord of the muscle, but no matter how bad that sounds, you don’t have to run. We’ve never caught him committing any assault crimes, never seen him even cross a street without a crosswalk.”
Another picture, this one lower on the board and of a blurry, smirking face. “Zero. The actual muscle, commonly called their assassin.”
“I’ve seen him before,” Cain frowned, and DeMilo nodded.
“He did a lot of professional traveling. Probably hit someone in Denver while you were there. The man does a surprisingly clean job,” DeMilo added. “Showed up here about three years ago and we haven’t heard of a single job outside the city by him. Whatever Ambrose has keeping him here, it’s a hell of a leash.” Cain just nodded, looking at the picture for a longer moment, and then nearly gaping as DeMilo stuck up two pictures next to The Queen and Raw, each of a beautiful young woman.
“Dellia,” he said, pointing to the older, more somber one, the picture decent but still fuzzy. “Gale.” That was the smiling, almost pristine picture on the right. “If you touch either one, you die. There’s a lot of speculation that they’re Ambrose and The Queen’s daughters, even though Glitch laughs like a loon every time someone suggests it.”
Cain blinked. “Glitch?” What kind of a name was that?
DeMilo just smirked, and tagged on the very last picture, in the lower left corner. A grinning, disheveled man with chin-length twisted hair and looking like he hadn’t seen the light of day in years, or at least the people who walked around in it. He was even wearing a smock. “This is Glitch. Think of him as the go-between, even though I doubt the idiot has a clue he is. Gale herself works in his watch-and-mask shop, along with a cop named Ahamo. Ahamo says he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread - funny, good at his job, a good boss, caring, all that. Gale does the mask designs when Glitch makes them. She works the mask counter, and he works the watches. And the best part?” DeMilo grinned. “Glitch is such a clueless blabbermouth he doesn’t have any idea that he’s our number one and only reliable snitch.”
“But at the same time he makes and fixes watches and masks,” Cain said dryly.
“Oh, and knives,” DeMilo nodded, sticking pointless strings between the pictures. “But you need both Gale and Ahamo to tell him to make those. No clue why it takes two of them for it. Probably just needs enough incentive. The guy treats those two like family.”
Cain found himself feeling a bit sorry for the man. He looked genuinely happy in that picture, and the idea he didn’t know what the police were using him for was almost sickening.
“I’ll go meet Glitch, then,” Cain said, already standing up and grabbing the folder.
“Cain,” DeMilo called out, and he turned. “There’s rumors that Glitch knows Ambrose. Rumors they’re even related. Ahamo says he’s seen some very strange people talk to Glitch in his workroom and he comes out fidgeting even more. Rumors that Glitch is the younger brother who got a bad knock on the head, if you know what I mean.”
Cain had absolutely no idea what a meeting like that would have to do with a blood relation with a crime lord. It sounded more like a shakedown about the masks more than anything else, but he just nodded and said “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You already lost your wife to this stuff, Cain, I don’t want you to lose your boy too,” DeMilo said, and Cain froze.
“What I lose is my own business,” he said darkly, and walked out the door, clutching the folder tightly and flipping straight to the address of Glitch’s shop.
---
It was later in the day than Cain would have liked to walk into Glitch’s shop, late enough that a very surprised Ahamo was already putting on his coat and ready to walk on out. The blond man stared at him for a disturbingly long time, and then smiled. “What can we do for you? We’re about to close, but commerce never sleeps.”
“Oh, go home already,” a voice shouted out from the back, and Cain almost jumped from the way it echoed through the shop. “And take Gale with you - she’s not nearly as good as she thinks she is at hiding that cold! Get her some soup and an overprotective sister.”
Gale walked out of the back, sighing, head tilted back almost to look at the ceiling. When she caught sight of Cain, she stared for a while too. Stared, and then turned around to sneeze. Her nose was red, her face was paler than it should have been, and she obviously knew it and didn’t like the idea. “You can’t just take care of the shop all by yourself, Gli-li-li-” Gale sneezed again, following it up with a cough and then a scowl at her handkerchief.
“Ahamo, please walk her home?” a man said much closer, and Cain jumped slightly when he realized that Glitch, in all his frazzled hair and smock-wearing glory, had walked out and was leaning against the back wall, frowning and wearing glasses clearly made for fixing clockwork. It made him look like a mad scientist, emphasizing the mad, with or without the half-frown, half-pout on his lips. “I don’t want Gale falling down and having some sort of…of sneezing fit or something.”
“Sneezing doesn’t kill people, but I’ll walk her,” Ahamo nodded with a smile. That earned him a glare from Gale, but a ridiculously happy grin from Glitch. “But the shop-”
“There’s one customer! I can deal with one customer,” Glitch frowned, finally pulling off the glasses and stuffing them into a pocket of the smock. “Mask or watch.”
“Watch,” Cain said, and practically sighed when he pulled out his poor battered pocket watch. “It’s off by at least half an hour.”
All three of the workers winced at the look of the thing, which made Cain frown and hold it a bit defensively. Admittedly it was one of the most beat-up things they’d probably ever seen. It was actually a miracle the thing was still even around, and he meant to keep that miracle around. “It’s got a lot of sentimental value,” he muttered.
Apparently that was the right thing to say, because Glitch walked over and held out a…white-powdered hand with tiny flashes of black on his fingertips. Made sense - white for the papier-mâché masks, the black being oil. He hesitated, but finally Cain put his watch carefully in Glitch’s hand.
“Go ahead,” Glitch said, although they were hesitating. Gale sneezed again, and Glitch rolled his eyes, pointing straight at the door. “I’ll lock it behind you both, okay?”
“What’s your name, mister?” Gale asked, and Cain found himself actually intimidated by a young woman with the sniffles, just because of how dangerous those eyes had suddenly gone.
“Gale-” Glitch began, but Cain nodded at her.
“Wyatt Cain,” he said, and even pulled off the hat. “Just moved here from Denver.”
“Explains the brand on the back,” Glitch muttered behind him, and Cain glanced back to see Glitch had the glasses back on and was heading for the back, bumping his hip into a table on the way there with a mutter of, “I always do that. Should move that thing.”
The two hesitated, but finally Gale sneezed again, and the two nodded at him, opening the door after Ahamo flipped the sign to say the store was closed. “I’ll take care of your billing if Glitch forgets,” Ahamo said simply, and Cain could practically hear the ‘we will hunt you down and hurt you if you do something to him’ in those words. He could see why DeMilo seemed to worry whether the guy was more cop or shop worker at this point.
“I’ll remind him,” Cain promised with a nod, only to be interrupted with a shout from the back.
“Christ, did this thing have a bullet go through it?!”
Cain winced. Gale just started laughing. “Better go on back.”
“Did it?” Ahamo asked as he opened the door for Gale, looking genuinely intrigued.
Cain just shook his head. Ahamo nodded, and walked out the door, locking it behind him.
“It almost had a bullet go through it,” Cain called back, fidgeting where he was for a moment before finally telling himself he was being an idiot and walked into the back. Three-fourths of the back room was taken up by masks, the other fourth clockwork and tools, and Glitch was sitting at a bench, the right side of his lips scrunched together as he tinkered with the watch.
“What’d it go through first, then?” Glitch muttered almost accusingly. “Poor watch.”
Cain raised a slightly amused eyebrow. “It was either me or a ding on the watch. I kind of prefer being alive to having my pocket watch good as new.”
“I can make it good as new,” Glitch muttered, and Cain’s mouth dropped open when it seemed like just about the entire thing popped open, every tiny cog and even the clock face clinking down to the bench.
“I thought you’d fix it!” Cain said, and nearly went to pick up the pieces, until he found Glitch in those weird glasses looking at him, pointing a thin screwdriver at his chest.
“And who here makes and fixes watches, hmm?” he asked lightly. “Or is this the sentimental value part?”
“You just destroyed my watch!” Cain said disbelievingly, pointing at the mess on the counter.
The other man actually laughed. “Oh, that! No, I didn’t destroy it, I just took it apart.” He held up the casing, pointing to the ding in the back. The spot that had finally stopped the bullet. “I wanna get this fella out of here first, see? Wrecks the whole thing if the case isn’t right. It’d be like a…” He paused. “Like a really poorly fitting mask, really. Need one of those too? I mean, with Gale gone that means I can just do the design all on my own.” Glitch smiled a bit sheepishly. “Practically a present, so…I guess it’d be free.”
…well, that logic made absolutely no sense in Cain’s mind, but one thing definitely stood out through this entire conversation.
“Why does everyone claim you’re an idiot?” he asked, and Glitch nearly dropped one of the cogs to the floor he was so surprised by the question. “You’re obviously a genius with clocks, you’re an artist too, and you manage to be such a good boss that your employees don’t want to leave when one’s practically ordered to and the other has a bad cold!”
“…mister, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Glitch muttered, but his face had paled, hands shaking slightly while he still managed to competently work on the watch. “I’m just…I’m just Glitch, okay?”
Cain shook his head, almost angry about this for some reason. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re Glitch, but not just Glitch.” Cain paused. “Is someone out to get you?”
“So how about that mask,” Glitch said, immediately dropping everything else and literally grabbing Cain by the lapels of his coat, yanking him towards the other side of the room with a determined fake smile and stuck him in a chair. “Promise I won’t suffocate you, but I need to get the mold, okay?”
“What-” Cain began, only to have two disks put over his eyes. They felt like coins or something. He gasped at the feel of something very, very cold being layered on his face. “What does this have to do with a mask?” It was absolutely freezing, but Glitch just kept going.
“I’m giving you a type four,” the other man said cheerily. “Fully customized fit. Means I have to get the pattern of your head. Move your features around a bit, though. Act kinda like you’re making faces at a baby.”
“Making faces at a baby,” Cain repeated, trying to understand what exactly was going on in that tick-tock brain of Glitch’s.
“Scowl, look surprised, just…stretch!” The cold turned to a hot that made him clutch at the arms of the chair. Certainly got a surprised look out of him too, which in turn earned a, “there, you see? Easy to do,” from Glitch.
He frowned, biting his lower lip as more of the warmth coated over the cold. “Is this some sort of torture?”
“Nope! And you know, Gale’s charged fifty dollars just for a custom fitting, not even adding in the design cost,” Glitch added.
“People pay fifty dollars for this?”
“No, Gale makes them pay fifty dollars. Sometimes I just don’t know where she came by her bookkeeping skills, I tell you. Some men and women come in and she only charges for the design.”
Cain found himself smirking. “Aren’t you supposed to be unobservant and ignorant?”
That cold stuff was immediately slapped over his mouth. “Maybe we’ll go for a full-face mask,” Glitch muttered, and Cain couldn’t help it. He started laughing behind the strips of cold. “What? What’d I do now?” The cold moved away from his lips, and Cain grinned.
“You’re just-” he began, and then paused, realizing he’d nearly said cute. “You’re funny.” The hot on his face was getting less warm, much to Cain’s relief.
“Well at least I entertain you while I work,” Glitch sighed, and Cain could hear the scraping of a chair being pulled up next to the chair. “So, what’s your name, watch-shooter?”
“I didn’t shoot the watch,” Cain scowled. “And it’s Cain.”
“First or last?”
“Last, and my first name is Wyatt, and don’t make fun of it.”
“Are you related to any Earps?”
“No.”
Cain waited for the joke, but only got a contemplative noise. “The mask’s going to be setting for a while longer. I’ll be working on the watch, alright?”
“You’re acting like a dentist.”
“…okay?” Glitch said, clearly confused, but went back to the nearby bench.
“Dentists say that when they stick a cap on your tooth. ‘It’s going to be molding itself to your tooth for a while, so I’m going to be over here flirting with the secretary.’”
“I’m not flirting with your watch, Cain,” Glitch said, and there was a light chuckle. “Think she’s a one-man watch anyway, if she’d stick herself in front of a bullet for you. Got her heart set, even if she can’t tell you the time of day.”
“So you’re also either a hopeless romantic or a poet, too,” Cain added.
There was a thud from across the room, and angry footsteps strode back over, Glitch sitting down firmly in the other chair. “Why exactly are you so determined to get all this information out of me, Cain? Why do you need to figure me out? I’m giving you a mask, now just…just let me keep mine, understand?”
Cain sighed. “I don’t pity you, but I don’t like it when people are being used or harassed. You probably already figured it out, but I’m a cop.” He paused, waiting for any sort of answer to that, but Glitch was silent, so he just kept going. “I signed up to help people, and it seems like you need help.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a while.”
“Good for you, but now you have help,” Cain said simply, and nearly screamed at the absolute pain that came from the mold suddenly being yanked off his face, coins included.
Glitch still had on the glasses, and he was looking at the mostly-hardened mold. “You have no idea what you’re saying,” he said lightly. “I’m going to pretend you’re drunk, and you can come in tomorrow for the Gale-approved mask, designed and everything. It’d still be free, because I said it’d be free. You can have the watch back tomorrow, too.”
Cain frowned - and felt for his eyebrows, and was happy to note they were still there - and stood up from the chair. “Why does everyone keep saying I don’t know what I’m getting into?”
“Because you don’t,” Glitch said lightly. “No masks, fine. I know who you are, I know what you managed to do in Denver, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to be trying the same thing here.” He turned the mold around and pulled the two coins out from the eyes, tossing them towards Cain. The cop caught the nickels, surprised. “…you know what? Let’s show you. Explain it to you.”
He blinked at the watchmaker. “Show it to me?”
Without any explanation, Glitch pointed to the back door. “You can come back in an hour and a half. Your watch will take ‘til morning, but your mask…” Even with so many layers of glass, Cain could see the glint of something in those brown eyes as he was shooed out the door. “That’s what you’re coming back for. Suit, tie, hat, go for blues. The color, not the music. And then I’ll show you what you’re pitting yourself against.”
Cain frowned. “Glitch-”
“I don’t need protecting, you do,” Glitch snapped out, and Cain flailed a bit when the other man literally pushed him out the door, Cain nearly falling onto the brick of the alleyway. “Hour and a half, copper Cain.”
“Hold on-” Cain began, only to have the door slammed in his face, the telltale noises of lock after lock being slid and clicked into place telling Cain everything he needed to know. He ignored the fact he’d just been thrown out of someone’s shop simply for his pride, and took a deep breath, composing himself and noticing the two nickels still in his hand.
He slid them into his pants pocket, and headed home.
---
Jeb Cain was sick of boxes. Sick of packing them up and unpacking them although he’d been promised this would be the last time for a while. He was sick and tired of doing nothing but studying for the police exam he knew his father would never let him take, solving the mysteries of where other apartment tenants’ cats had run off to, sick of the three boxes still labeled with his mother’s name that they kept anyway, never opened, but always kept in a corner. The boxes were stored almost as if they were waiting for her to come back in the house right along with the smiles and unpack them, chatting away and making everything okay again.
His boxes were unpacked and in the small room that served as his, the ones that belonged to his father mostly unpacked, and the boxes labeled Adora were almost blocking the front door. Jeb liked them there. The thud that came from every time the door opened was almost horrifyingly satisfying, because that meant someone was being reminded she’d been alive not so long ago. That she hadn’t died that long ago, either.
Jeb was studying for the test he’d never get to take out of a book he’d practically memorized at their shoddy dinner table when he heard that thud and the pause that followed it before the door closed behind his father.
“We should probably move those boxes,” his father said, just like every other time he’d come home, but this time he was already heading into his bedroom, acting like he actually had something to do and a limited timeframe for it, too.
Jeb frowned, looking into the other room. “Father?”
“Work,” he said simply, and closed the door, leaving Jeb with the frayed book and plenty of questions, especially when he came out in the navy-blue suit and the light blue shirt and…lots of blue.
“Aren’t you taking ‘boys in blue’ a little too literally?” Jeb asked, gaping at the ensemble and earning a frown from his father. “Let me guess. Work.”
“Jeb, you know I-”
“I know,” he said, cutting his father off before he started with the you’ll always be priority number one talk. Jeb knew his father meant every word of it, but that didn’t stop the fact that while Wyatt Cain loved his son more than anything else, he didn’t spend more time with him. Barely spent any time together, really. Always work. “Go save the city. I’ll be here when you get back.”
His father hesitated for a moment, and then pulled out two nickels, putting them on the table. “In case you get bored,” he explained, and left with one more pause at the boxes.
Jeb put the coins in a pocket and grabbed his coat, wrapping his scarf a bit tighter around his neck while he was at it, not wanting to lose the thing beneath the coat.
He walked out with the same pause at the boxes, but he reassured himself at the sight of those letters. If his father was going to put himself at risk like this, Jeb was going to be right behind him. Just in case.
Jeb hadn’t lied when he’d said he would be there when his father got back. He locked the door behind him, smiling a bit bitterly as Widow Murphy’s cat (his first ‘case’ in the building so far) decided to curl up around him for a moment. The cat gave a surprised meow when Jeb’s foot slipped aside almost effortlessly and he headed down the stairs without a sound.
He didn’t have a gun yet, wasn’t sure he could fight anyone off without a weapon, couldn’t even talk his way out of anything, but Jeb could sure as hell shadow someone better than anyone else he’d ever heard of.
But then again, not hearing of them was the point, wasn’t it?
---
Glitch’s back door was already half-open when Cain got there, and Glitch was dressed just about how he had been, aside from losing the smock, putting on a black jacket, and wearing a red mask with black and white braiding along the edge and then making a zigzag pattern across the nose and connecting the top and bottom. He looked completely unsurprised at Cain’s entrance, and was already holding out a dark blue mask. It was nothing but blue with a painted zigzag matching Glitch’s - comparatively, nothing fancy.
“Didn’t have much time to finish the mask?” Cain asked, looking at the thing.
Glitch immediately walked behind him and snatched the mask back, putting it on Cain’s face and tying it on, all business. “This isn’t your mask. This is the mask that’s getting you in and out without dying, even if it’s a one-time-only gig.”
Cain frowned suspiciously behind the mask. “Glitch?”
“You’re a…well.” The other man paused. “Okay, you’re a hooker.”
“A what?!” Cain shouted out, only to have a hand clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t see Glitch, but he knew he was getting glared at.
“The only way you’re getting in and out without some kind of inspection is like this, and trust me, I thought for a while for some more reasonable excuse because you don’t look a thing like the male hookers. I look more like one than you do, and that isn’t saying much,” Glitch said quickly. “I’m going to show you the Royals, and then we are leaving. Less notice you get, more chance you stay alive long enough to get out of town, alright?”
The word Royals certainly resonated with him, remembering the woman known only as The Queen. Underground ‘courts’ were common enough, and he’d have almost been surprised if a crime lord like Ambrose didn’t have one. He nodded, and Glitch carefully removed his hand.
“I…” Glitch hesitated. “I don’t go in there much. I go for Gale, you know? Sometimes she has bad nights and needs a friend instead of…of…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I’ll be more of an oddity than you, so…don’t talk, okay?”
“Don’t talk?”
“And would you stop repeating what I say!” Glitch shouted, practically stomping his foot on the ground. Cain was a bit surprised to notice perfectly shined and extremely fashionable shoes, but Glitch was going on about what else was wrong with Cain, so he just stood through it until the other man finally slowed down and scratched the top of his head, looking around the back room of the shop. He looked at something Cain couldn’t see out the door for a while, and then went back to Cain, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the back door.
“So where are we going?” Cain asked as Glitch locked up the door.
“Finaqua,” Glitch said immediately. “Still have the nickels?”
Cain frowned. “Gave them to my boy, why? Am I supposed to?”
“No no no, that’s fine,” Glitch said, actually sounding slightly relieved. “Less questions, more safety, I’m glad you don’t have them.” He let Cain’s hand go, but still walked close to him, and spoke quietly. “Any enemies already in the city?”
“Not that I know of,” Cain said, and Glitch nodded. “Why?”
“A list,” Glitch said idly, turning left. “Any vengeful ex-lovers?”
“I just moved here, Glitch,” Cain muttered irritably, and the other man frowned at him beneath the mask.
“I’m just making sure you don’t walk into trouble,” he said, almost pouting. “I’m showing you the danger, not throwing you into it. Oh, and we’re probably going to have to kiss, since you’re a…you know.”
“I’m a prostitute.”
“Yeah.”
Cain shook his head. “Glitch, you amaze me.”
“Thanks!” Glitch grinned, and Cain suddenly cursed himself for not watching where they were going. Glitch was waving his hand around and immediately launching into small talk about the sewers being clean, and they walked over to what at first looked like a manhole, until Cain noticed with quite a bit of surprise the fact that the ‘manhole’ lifted up to show a stairway beneath it. The manhole and cement was nothing but a painted bit of wood. It was no wonder the police hadn’t found this ‘Finaqua’ place, or any other speakeasy joint, if this was the kind of entrances they had.
“Whuzzat? Glitch?” A voice shouted, and Glitch jumped as a man appeared out of the side of the staircase. “What you doing ‘round here? Thought you were off playing, you know?”
Glitch laughed a bit uneasily. “Well, can’t play all the time, you know? But it’s just me and my, um.” He actually blushed. “Myoutoftownguest.”
The man grinned a bit viciously, mask doing nothing to disguise the bullying tendency in those eyes.
“He said his out of town guest,” Cain said, and smiled, hoping it looked more like a smile than a sneer. The man blinked at him, and then simply nodded, pulling a rope. The stairs went up, and there was another set leading down, and another door. The sound of jazz and a riotous party was barely contained by it.
“Come on,” Glitch muttered, and slung an arm around Cain’s waist, opening the door to a dazzling bit of blues and greens and golds all over, a band playing and liquor flowing like a river from the bar, more than half-drunk men and women doing whatever the hell they felt like, occasionally including each other in the open room, leaving Cain gaping.
That was stopped rather quickly when Glitch’s mouth latched onto his open one, giving him a kiss that had Cain staring at him instead of the room. “You’re my guest, you’re used to these sorts of places, and you will not stare or talk or you will die, okay?”
“Oka-” He stopped at the finger pointing at his mouth, and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and simply nodded. Apparently that was the right answer because he got a dazzlingly bright smile.
“Now. Royals, and run,” Glitch said, all grins and laughter, making Cain wonder how good an actor the man really was. He led him through the room and towards a raised area, where a dark-haired woman in a green and black mask was waving at Glitch with a smile. He waved back, and spoke through the smile. “I’m going to have to talk. I will probably end up having to kiss you repeatedly. Got it?”
Cain forced a smile at him and nodded, running a hand up a very startled Glitch’s back, and then squeezed the man’s shoulder. Hard. Glitch yelped a little bit and muttered something about biting, but was walking them up to the raised area.
“Dellia,” Glitch beamed, and the woman smiled, leaning over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. A woman in a mask Cain immediately recognized as The Queen’s smiled at him, and Glitch fumbled forward to kiss the top of her hand, earning a laugh from the woman and her daughter. Cain looked at the rest of the table - the elegant Queen sitting at the head, Dellia at her side, with a man on the Queen’s side in a pure white lion mask. “Raw! Haven’t seen you in forever!”
Even with the nearly full-face mask, Cain could see the glare that earned Glitch, and the uneasy laughter sounded actually genuine. As far as Cain could tell, at least.
“I’m afraid Gale isn’t here, Glitch,” Dellia said smoothly, a smile on her lips. “She has a horrible cold. You had to practically kick her out of the store, remember? Ahamo even walked her home, no matter how much she was griping.”
Glitch laughed lightly. “Yep, that sounds like Gale!” His hands were fidgeting, and the Queen cleared her throat, making Glitch immediately turn towards her. “…what, what’s wrong?”
“Ambrose,” she said simply, and Cain tightened his grip just a bit more on Glitch’s shoulder. Considering how tense the shoulder was, he doubted the other man noticed. “He’s stopping over to discuss some things with Raw.”
“Well!” Glitch’s laugh was a bit forced, and Cain started to wonder why the other man insisted he didn’t need protecting if Ambrose’s name got this sort of a reaction out of him. “Don’t want to get in the way of a meeting, you know? We’ll just go.”
“But we haven’t met your toy,” Dellia said, voice nothing but amused as she leaned across the table, the fringe on her matching green dress sliding across the table. “Sure doesn’t look like the average toy, but you’ve never really been one to go with the status quo, have you.”
“Nope! Not me!” Glitch grinned, and tightened his grip around Cain’s waist. “This is…Abel Holladay.”
Raw snorted, and the Queen hid a laugh behind her hand as Dellia didn’t, laughing outright. “Well, the name certainly fits the job, I’ll give you that.”
“Ha! Yeah. Well, we’ll be off now-”
“Ambrose!” Dellia shouted out, waving at some corner of the room, and Glitch’s eyes widened. “Sorry, we switched tables, too much sodomy in that corner for Raw’s taste, he hates watching-”
Cain knew Glitch was panicking, so he took the matter into his own hands, finding a decently far away wall and kissing Glitch so hard the man had to get his wits about him. He absolutely had to, especially with the way his arms were flailing against the wall, finally wrapping back around Cain and kissing back just as hard and quite a bit frantic. “Pick me up,” Glitch said quickly, Dellia’s chatter growing more and more ominous as Glitch tugged him further into the room, and closer to the door. “Pick me up, we make out, and get out the door.”
Cain could do that. Glitch was skinny…well, more lithe, but still light, so he picked him up, Glitch’s legs wrapping around him as they just kept kissing, the masks knocking together obnoxiously as Cain eased them towards the door. They got whistled at, and at one point Glitch hissed out a frantic “oh fuck turn around turn around right now,” at which point Cain had obeyed, Glitch had covered most of Cain’s hair and features with his face and hands, and a couple pairs of footsteps had passed them by, leaving them both sagging and still a bit frantic and Cain had turned them back around so Glitch could watch, Cain could carry them, and they could both keep kissing, even though it was more…easy kissing. Usually. Occasionally Cain got frustrated enough to actually kiss Glitch, which was pretty nice. The other man sure knew what he was doing with that tongue, and Cain could fully admit that he didn’t mind learning that.
It was during one of those actual-kissing moments when they finally stumbled across the door, both of them panting and hair mussed from having to cover each other’s faces, masks askew and still kissing for no apparent reason. Finally Glitch pulled away, dropping off of Cain and leaning against him for a moment before he turned towards the stairwell. “Let us up,” he said, voice a bit hoarse.
“Didn’t hear the magic woooord,” the man called down with a snicker, and Cain gaped at the newest change in Glitch.
“Let us the fuck up or I swear you will earn a beating you will definitely forget, because your skull will be so bruised, if not something worse!” he snapped, hand going into one of his pockets, but the stairs were almost immediately raised. Glitch grabbed Cain’s stunned hand, yanking him up the stairs. When they reached the middle platform, the man was staring at them, but the stairs went back into place, and Glitch pulled Cain up those too, sending a “Thank you” back down as he lifted the cover of Finaqua and walked Cain out.
Glitch was glaring. “Do you get it now? Do you get it? If Ambrose had seen you, you’d be DEAD! Deceased! Gone! Swimming with the fishes! I hate that terminology, but apparently I may have to use it so you know what I’m talking about!”
“And what happens when he sees you?” Cain asked, voice a bit rougher than he’d meant for it to be.
“I haven’t died yet, and I’m not going to,” Glitch said, shaking his head and already walking away from Finaqua. “Gale watches out for me. I know who they are - who they both are - and believe it or not, that’s how I keep on living. I’ve taken beatings, but anyone in the city has.” He put out a hand as they turned a corner. “Give me the mask.”
Cain obeyed, and was stunned to watch Glitch pinch a point on the edge and then use the other hand to crush the thing into nothing but blue specks of dead papier-mâché, pulling the tie out with a whooshing noise. He watched the entire process, and looked straight at Glitch. “For some reason, I thought these meant more to you then that.”
“People mean more to me,” Glitch muttered, and was putting a key in a door - they were back at Glitch’s. How the man managed to throw off his sense of direction like that, Cain doubted he’d ever know. Glitch cleared his throat. “You said you have a son?”
“Jeb,” Cain nodded. “Twenty-one.”
Glitch blinked up at him, clearly stunned behind the mask. “What, you had a kid when you were fifteen or something?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I was sixteen and my wife was eighteen.”
“Shotgun wedding?” Glitch asked, and Cain glared.
“We’d been planning to get married since she was thirteen.”
“…ah.” Glitch stepped into the back entrance. “Well, um. Send him by tomorrow.” Cain didn’t understand that at all, and said as much, earning himself an irritated sigh. “Seems like your boy’s bored, is all. Plus you might as well let him do something that pays.”
“What are you getting at, Glitch.”
“If your son’s anything like you, he’ll understand immediately.” Glitch stepped in, and the mask and coat were off. He was already putting the glasses back on, and for some reason Cain started to hate those things, even if it was to work on his own watch. “Promise I’d never do anything to harm him, swear on my family’s graves that I only have you and your son’s best interests at heart, and since I can tell you’re not leaving, send him over.” He paused, and smiled a bit sheepishly at Cain. “Um. Thanks for saving us. I know you probably weren’t terribly happy with that-”
“It got us out safely,” Cain interrupted, putting a placating hand on Glitch’s shoulder. “Besides, you’re a pretty good kisser.”
Glitch stared at him. “…bwuh?”
Cain just laughed, shaking his head, and walked home.
---
And a very, very crafty fox began to carefully change his plans, grinning all the while as he watched his ticking coin spin on that scarcely-noticed third side that nobody seemed to care about.
---tbc---
Anyone wanna guess what I'm gonna do to Jeb? :D