(no subject)

[sunnydalealum]

Somewhere in Manhattan
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
7:20pm

It's been four days. Long enough lead time for the word to have gotten out some other way; and if that makes his information potentially less valuable, it also betters the odds that they won't trace the leak back to him, if they're feeling so inclined.

Fitz opens the prepaid one-use cellphone, and dials a certain unlisted number.

"Fitz," he says into the mouthpiece, after a moment. "I've got something you wanna know."

Comments

[sunnydalealum]

There's silence on the other end. Dark and brittle, like the voice just a moment ago, it could snap at any second.

But then, it simply doesn't. "You didn't tell them anything."

[sunnydalealum]

A short, bitter laugh. "What could I tell them? You got your money's worth on the geas, boss."

[sunnydalealum]

Unseen by Fitz, his former boss's lips curl, thin and dark over his teeth, pearly white and just a tad too sharp to pass for human. Two-timing, conniving, slimy little lying smear on the wall. He'd love to be there when that day comes to the low-life on the other end. He'd just relish in it.

"You know the drill, Fitz."

[sunnydalealum]

"Okay, yeah." No wisecracks or side comments, not even the aggrieved sigh he'd really like to give vent to at this juncture. The nicknames his ex-boss is so fond of might be irritating as all hell, but when he stops using them, that's when you gotta duck and cover.

He knows the drill. He should know the drill, he's been screwed over by it before -- but this time he's played it straight, he's dealing on the level, he's got nothing to worry about. Right? Right.

A deep breath, and: "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the --"

[nomorekaraoke]

He flicks his tongue against his teeth, because if that voice doesn't feel like nails on the back of his forehead, he doesn't know what that is.

"Stop. For the love of Pete, you're giving me a migraine."

He leans back in his high-backed armchair, lighting up a cigarette to take his mind off, well, everything about this entire 'conversation'.

"You'll get your money."

Click. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeee--