Cookies 'n' Cream 2: Effing Corlionis
Title: Effing Corlionis
Main Story: Polyfaceted
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cookies 'n' cream 2 (fall), cookie crumbs, rainbow sprinkles, hot fudge, malt, milkshake.
Word Count: 575
Rating: PG-13 (many, many f-bombs).
Summary: Anthony is dead stinking bored.
Notes: A Snowflake Milkshake for Kelly! Cookie crumbs of Isabella's section of the I'll Make A Man Out Of You segment of her story Sailing on Rough Tides. I am honored, as always, to write in this universe.
Anthony is dead stinking bored. He fucking hates bodyguard duty, especially when it's standing in on one of those damn boring meetings where people sit around and talk at each other, especially when they make him walk in without a gun. He gets itchy without a gun; feels uncomfortable. Talking doesn't do any fucking good, anyway, because it's not like anyone's listening to each other, and even if they were none of these people keep their fucking word.
If it was up to him, he decides, he'd just send around some boys with guns. Nice big ones, too. Anthony is a big believer in the concentrating power of a gun pointed in the right direction.
Not that it would work in this case. Fucking Corlionis. They're unkillable, the bastards.
Anthony lets his eyes drift over the group again. A bunch of guys, at least two with the beefy shoulders of muscle and not much brain, and at least two more with the shifting eyes of bodyguards. Not that they can do much, without their guns. The fucking Corlionis had to come through the same metal detector Anthony did.
Then there's Salvatore Corlioni, of course, and the chick he's brought along. She looks just as bored as he feels, which might have endeared her to Anthony if he didn't know that she has no business being here; the invitation was for Salvatore and any of his siblings he chose to bring along. So she's a wild card, so he concentrates on her.
Early twenties, he decides, maybe; he would bet she's just barely out of college. Hot, though. Must be a secretary. One who's about to get fired, he thinks, as Salvatore gives her a sidelong glance. She gives him a tiny, unrepentant smile back, and leans forward again.
Anthony's about to tune out again when the secretary speaks up and he snaps to attention; she can't be a secretary, secretaries don't speak up in meetings, holy fuck she must be one of the Corlioni girls. "Yet we're stronger than you will ever be," she's saying, and shit, holy shit, she's talking to the capo, shit, shit, fuck, this meeting's going to end badly, he just knows it...
And there goes Marco, right on cue, snapping at the fucking Corlionis and doesn't he fucking know he's muscle? Muscle doesn't fucking speak up in meetings, any more than secretaries do, and fuck, they're so fucked. "You let a little girl in on your meetings?" Marco's demanding.
The Corlioni girl (what's her name? Nicoletta's blonde, can't be her) gets a "you gotta be kidding me" look on her face, and waves her hand in front of Marco's face. Anthony winces. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Hey. Asshole. Sitting right here."
Anthony steps forward, reaching for Marco's arm, but he's too late, Marco's already grabbing for the girl and the rest is a blur of flying tables and feet, and it's all he can do to stay uninjured himself. Fuck.
He freezes in place. Marco's gasping on the floor, clutching his chest. The capo is glaring at him, the Corlioni girl is looking pleased with herself, and fuck, fuck, if the deal is blown it's Marco's fault, and Anthony's responsible for the dumbass, so it's on him. Fuck.
He can hardly believe it when Salvatore just goes on like nothing's happened.
Fucking Corlionis.
Anthony hauls Marco out of the room, throws him bodily into the conference room next door to cool his ass off, then returns to his position, bolt upright behind the capo and trying to stay invisible.
Fuck. Well, at least he won't be bored anymore. Thinking up ways to kill Marco will keep him entertained.
Main Story: Polyfaceted
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cookies 'n' cream 2 (fall), cookie crumbs, rainbow sprinkles, hot fudge, malt, milkshake.
Word Count: 575
Rating: PG-13 (many, many f-bombs).
Summary: Anthony is dead stinking bored.
Notes: A Snowflake Milkshake for Kelly! Cookie crumbs of Isabella's section of the I'll Make A Man Out Of You segment of her story Sailing on Rough Tides. I am honored, as always, to write in this universe.
Anthony is dead stinking bored. He fucking hates bodyguard duty, especially when it's standing in on one of those damn boring meetings where people sit around and talk at each other, especially when they make him walk in without a gun. He gets itchy without a gun; feels uncomfortable. Talking doesn't do any fucking good, anyway, because it's not like anyone's listening to each other, and even if they were none of these people keep their fucking word.
If it was up to him, he decides, he'd just send around some boys with guns. Nice big ones, too. Anthony is a big believer in the concentrating power of a gun pointed in the right direction.
Not that it would work in this case. Fucking Corlionis. They're unkillable, the bastards.
Anthony lets his eyes drift over the group again. A bunch of guys, at least two with the beefy shoulders of muscle and not much brain, and at least two more with the shifting eyes of bodyguards. Not that they can do much, without their guns. The fucking Corlionis had to come through the same metal detector Anthony did.
Then there's Salvatore Corlioni, of course, and the chick he's brought along. She looks just as bored as he feels, which might have endeared her to Anthony if he didn't know that she has no business being here; the invitation was for Salvatore and any of his siblings he chose to bring along. So she's a wild card, so he concentrates on her.
Early twenties, he decides, maybe; he would bet she's just barely out of college. Hot, though. Must be a secretary. One who's about to get fired, he thinks, as Salvatore gives her a sidelong glance. She gives him a tiny, unrepentant smile back, and leans forward again.
Anthony's about to tune out again when the secretary speaks up and he snaps to attention; she can't be a secretary, secretaries don't speak up in meetings, holy fuck she must be one of the Corlioni girls. "Yet we're stronger than you will ever be," she's saying, and shit, holy shit, she's talking to the capo, shit, shit, fuck, this meeting's going to end badly, he just knows it...
And there goes Marco, right on cue, snapping at the fucking Corlionis and doesn't he fucking know he's muscle? Muscle doesn't fucking speak up in meetings, any more than secretaries do, and fuck, they're so fucked. "You let a little girl in on your meetings?" Marco's demanding.
The Corlioni girl (what's her name? Nicoletta's blonde, can't be her) gets a "you gotta be kidding me" look on her face, and waves her hand in front of Marco's face. Anthony winces. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Hey. Asshole. Sitting right here."
Anthony steps forward, reaching for Marco's arm, but he's too late, Marco's already grabbing for the girl and the rest is a blur of flying tables and feet, and it's all he can do to stay uninjured himself. Fuck.
He freezes in place. Marco's gasping on the floor, clutching his chest. The capo is glaring at him, the Corlioni girl is looking pleased with herself, and fuck, fuck, if the deal is blown it's Marco's fault, and Anthony's responsible for the dumbass, so it's on him. Fuck.
He can hardly believe it when Salvatore just goes on like nothing's happened.
Fucking Corlionis.
Anthony hauls Marco out of the room, throws him bodily into the conference room next door to cool his ass off, then returns to his position, bolt upright behind the capo and trying to stay invisible.
Fuck. Well, at least he won't be bored anymore. Thinking up ways to kill Marco will keep him entertained.