Happy Birthday!
May. 16th, 2005 06:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrHappy Birthday, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rykaine! May your twenty-second year be a good one ^_^
Here's the beginning of your story, I'll write more of it tonight:
"Thank you, Sullivan. I cannot express how much help you've been. We would not have caught for a while, had you kept your silence."
Sullivan's lips twitched. "I I'd kept my mouth shut I would be dead. And last I checked, being dead was bad for business."
"That is very true."
"Anyway, I'm a criminal. Not a backstabber. The Sterlings have always stood by the Azuras before all others."
The Azura smiled and waved his words away. "In our line of business, loyalty is about the only positive thing we've got going. It's good to know I have some that still know what that means."
"Of course." Sullivan dropped his head and shoulders in a half-bow, hands grasping the ornately carved top of his walnut cane. His hair was the fine, white-blonde usually only seen on children, the silver-gold sheen of it matched perfectly in his tie.
"Though I am afraid that your assistance has put you in some danger. I am surprised you are not angry."
Sullivan grinned, white teeth flashing. "I'll admit I'm a bit upset some of them got away. It definitely spells trouble for me. But a man doesn't go begging for assistance. It's my problem; I'll deal with it. Thank you."
The Azura's bright blue eyes were sharp, intent. "I would not have a friend harmed because my men were careless." He smiled, the expression doing much to relax a face that looked far too old for all the youth it still held. "It is fortunate that I hired a bodyguard for you just as this whole disaster began. He will continue to guard you until I am certain of your safety."
Sullivan blinked, surprise in pale, jade green eyes. "Who on earth…" He ran through the list of people who had recently been hired or added to the staff by Azura, coming up with no one that fit the role of possible bodyguard.
"Now if I told you," the Azura said patiently. "Then it's possible the enemy would learn his identity. But it is someone I trust with my own life. He will protect you at all costs."
"As you wish," Sullivan said faintly, rising to his feet as Azura did. "Thank you very much, Azura."
The Azura shook his hand, and signaled the skinnier of his two bodyguards to escort him out. "Trick, please."
Sullivan nodded, dumbfounded. "Have a good evening."
In his bedroom, Sullivan set aside his cane and began to strip out of his cumbersome business suit. He hated the things, but you didn't meet the Azura in jeans and oxford.
Donning his familiar stone-washed jeans and favorite, worn oxford shirt, Sullivan discarded his contacts and slipped on a pair of oval glasses, pulled on some socks and retrieved his cane as he headed out the door. He padded downstairs to his office, grateful to be back where he could more or less relax.
Two men waited for him.
In front of the terrace windows was a man built like a brick shithouse, in a blue and green flannel with the sleeves rolled up, his jeans faded and stained with years of abuse. His hair was cut in a tight military style, skin deeply tanned from hours in the sun, making his blue eyes stand out. Ronald, his right hand man. He was directly in charge of everything that happened in the shipping yard.
On the couch directly opposite his desk was a wiry man with corkscrew curls and pursed lips that made it seem he'd just swallowed something sour. He was the only one dressed anywhere near formal in gray slacks and a dark blue polo. His dark brown eyes watched Sullivan intently. Cameron, his secretary.
"So starting tomorrow, things are back to normal." Sullivan shuffled some papers in front of him, neatly set them out of the way and folded his hands on top of the desk. His walnut cane sat near to hand, leaning against the desk. "Hopefully. How are things in the yard?"
"Unsettled. No one's comfortable with the idea that we helped bust Pierre, boss. Even if it means we're in real good standing with the Azura."
"They should be more unsettled," Sullivan replied icily. "That Pierre nearly had us on the Azura's bad side. So remind them who we report to in this business and notify me of any problems. Play it cool; the less upset we seem by all this, the less upset they'll be." He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cam, anything for me?"
Cameron gave him a dry look. "You've got several party invitations to pick through. And Hamilton wants to play golf on Sunday."
Sullivan sent a scathing look toward the wall past Cameron. "Because playing golf is something a cripple would have so much fun doing. Tell him to fuck off and give me something of importance."
"Your little freak is being bitchy again."
Seeing Cam's annoyance, Sullivan refrained from laughing. "What's wrong this time?"
"Ask him yourself," Ronald muttered. "Four, three, two, o--"
Dead on cue, there was a series of sharp, short loud knocks on the door of his office. Sullivan grinned and shook his head. "Enter!" he called.
A small whirlwind of energy blew into his office to the sound of some indistinct song blaring from headphones tucked into the collar of a tight, bright green tank top. Short black hair with random strands dyed purple made his blue eyes almost look violet, and the tiny red birthmark beneath his right eye made the whirlwind look younger than his twenty-seven years. His black jeans were worn, soft, and fit well. The thick maroon carpet in Sullivan's office muffled the clomping of his heavy black boots.
"Liv," the whirlwind said, slamming his hands down on the desk, then half-spinning to point an accusing finger at the two men behind him. "Would you please tell these Neanderthals to keep their grubby mitts away from my goddamned equipment before they manage to not only wreck my damned system but also blow us to smithereens?"
Sullivan couldn't resist a laugh. "Kill the music, Tybalt. It's a wonder to me you're not deaf, as high as you keep it."
"Huh? Yeah, sure thing." Tybalt thumped the off button on the mp3 player clipped to his pants without taking his eyes off of Sullivan. "Now, about your Neanderthals."
"Watch it, kid." Cameron said in a warning tone.
Tybalt turned his head to sneer. "I ain't been a kid in years. At least I know how to use a damn computer. You couldn't find the on switch if it called your name and asked for a fuck."
"Goddamn you!" Cameron shot out of his chair and headed straight for him, murder in his eyes.
Sullivan figured laughing wouldn't be a good idea at that point. Standing, he raised his voice to be heard over the bickering. "Enough!" he shouted. "Cameron, Tybalt, shut the hell up and sit down. Now."
Still glaring at each other, the two men obeyed.
"Tybalt, what is the problem this time?" Sullivan sat back down, but did not relax. He generally had to break up at least three fights before meetings involving Cameron and Tybalt ended.
Tybalt pointed a thumb at Ron and Cam. "These cave-men were pawing over my equipment again. It's hard enough to keep it running like you want without them disrupting everything. Your damn systems don't run on magic, you know."
"Yes, I know." Sullivan quirked his lips and then looked at his secretary and assistant. "What's up?"
Cameron was back to pursing his lips. "We have every right to check his equipment. I don't trust leaving it to just him."
Tybalt snorted. "Yeah, because of course you know what the hell you're looking at. I could be planning the theft of the century and all you'd ever see is that I'm playing pac-man!" Tybalt shot up as Cameron stood to go after him again.
"SIT!" Sullivan roared.
"Liv, I had to spend two hours repairing the damage they did 'looking over' my equipment. If you don't trust me, fine. But have someone who at least knows what a monitor is look over my stuff to check I'm legit."
Cameron narrowed his eyes, "I know what a monitor is, you nasty little worm. It's no wonder you're so good at computers - you clearly can't communicate with people."
Tybalt sneered back at him, "This from the man who gets turned down flat by a blow up doll."
"That's it."
Sullivan began to stop them, then just sighed. "Ron? If you please?"
Ronald nodded. "There was someone wandering around outside last night, boss. Cam and I saw him, but when we called up Tybalt to ask about it, he told us there was no one there. We know what we saw - either he's lying or something is wrong with his precious equipment. Either way, we had the right to check it for ourselves." He shrugged, "Cam got a bit carried away and did something to one of the programs. What, I couldn't tell you." A grin, "I'm just a caveman."
Sullivan smiled back and then grabbed his cane, slamming it down with an echoing crack on his desk. "Cam, Ron, out. Tybalt, stay. We need to talk."
Cameron tucked his shirt back in and smoothed hair. He started to smirk, but winced at the pain caused by the split in his lower lip. He left, Ronald right behind him.
Standing slowly, Sullivan idly made his way around the desk to lean against it, hands braced on his cane as he contemplated Tybalt. "You do like to cause an uproar don't you?"
Tybalt gingerly examined his cheek, where a livid bruise was already appearing. "Only where that backwater monkey is concerned." He looked at Sullivan. "I know I'm the odd one out here, Liv, but give me a break. I know my shit, and I'm not fucking around. I'm on the level and so is my stuff. You pay too much for me to want to lose this gig. Swear it."
Sullivan contemplated him in silence for a few minutes, trying to keep his mind on the problem at hand and not on how positively edible his tech was. The tank top and jeans fit entirely too well, and he knew when the young man turned to leave, he'd see the slightest bit of black ink peeking out of the right arm of that tank top. How often had he fantasized about peeling that top off and finally seeing what sort of tattoo the man had on his back? Tracing it with his tongue, tracing the muscles that were oddly developed for someone who spent almost all his time on a computer.
Then again, not many techs carried handguns either. He forced his attention back to the present. "Look, everyone is still real tense about everything that just went down. Double crossing Pierre, even with the Azura's backing, is no small matter. Everyone is going to be tense for a long, long time. So if Cam and Ron are a little anxious, let them be. If it will make everyone happy, I'll bring someone trustworthy in to give your stuff a once over and then all you'll have to do is behave, all right?"
"My equipment is fine," Tybalt said petulantly. "But whatever keeps the party going."
"Don't worry. They'll be so anxious to get rid of the 'consultant' I have in mind, they won't be able to approve his analysis fast enough." Sullivan winked. "Now go put something on that bruise and then get back to work. Come by tomorrow morning to update me on whatever changes and improvements you've made.
Tybalt flashed him a happy grin. "Sure thing! I've made scads of improvements, just wait."
"Get going, and avoid Cameron for a couple of days."" Sullivan smiled back. He watched as Tybalt turned and left, eyes locking onto the hint of tattoo peeking out of his tank top.
And sighed heavily as the door slammed closed, thinking sobering thoughts to cool himself down. "Out of reach, Sully, out of reach."
He jumped slightly at movement from the corner of his eyes, then realized it was only a plant, rustled by the AC which had just kicked on. "You're a likely target for assassination," he muttered to himself. "Stop lusting after someone eight years younger and think about trying to stay alive."
rykaine! May your twenty-second year be a good one ^_^Here's the beginning of your story, I'll write more of it tonight:
Eyes on You
"Thank you, Sullivan. I cannot express how much help you've been. We would not have caught for a while, had you kept your silence."
Sullivan's lips twitched. "I I'd kept my mouth shut I would be dead. And last I checked, being dead was bad for business."
"That is very true."
"Anyway, I'm a criminal. Not a backstabber. The Sterlings have always stood by the Azuras before all others."
The Azura smiled and waved his words away. "In our line of business, loyalty is about the only positive thing we've got going. It's good to know I have some that still know what that means."
"Of course." Sullivan dropped his head and shoulders in a half-bow, hands grasping the ornately carved top of his walnut cane. His hair was the fine, white-blonde usually only seen on children, the silver-gold sheen of it matched perfectly in his tie.
"Though I am afraid that your assistance has put you in some danger. I am surprised you are not angry."
Sullivan grinned, white teeth flashing. "I'll admit I'm a bit upset some of them got away. It definitely spells trouble for me. But a man doesn't go begging for assistance. It's my problem; I'll deal with it. Thank you."
The Azura's bright blue eyes were sharp, intent. "I would not have a friend harmed because my men were careless." He smiled, the expression doing much to relax a face that looked far too old for all the youth it still held. "It is fortunate that I hired a bodyguard for you just as this whole disaster began. He will continue to guard you until I am certain of your safety."
Sullivan blinked, surprise in pale, jade green eyes. "Who on earth…" He ran through the list of people who had recently been hired or added to the staff by Azura, coming up with no one that fit the role of possible bodyguard.
"Now if I told you," the Azura said patiently. "Then it's possible the enemy would learn his identity. But it is someone I trust with my own life. He will protect you at all costs."
"As you wish," Sullivan said faintly, rising to his feet as Azura did. "Thank you very much, Azura."
The Azura shook his hand, and signaled the skinnier of his two bodyguards to escort him out. "Trick, please."
Sullivan nodded, dumbfounded. "Have a good evening."
*~*~*~*
In his bedroom, Sullivan set aside his cane and began to strip out of his cumbersome business suit. He hated the things, but you didn't meet the Azura in jeans and oxford.
Donning his familiar stone-washed jeans and favorite, worn oxford shirt, Sullivan discarded his contacts and slipped on a pair of oval glasses, pulled on some socks and retrieved his cane as he headed out the door. He padded downstairs to his office, grateful to be back where he could more or less relax.
Two men waited for him.
In front of the terrace windows was a man built like a brick shithouse, in a blue and green flannel with the sleeves rolled up, his jeans faded and stained with years of abuse. His hair was cut in a tight military style, skin deeply tanned from hours in the sun, making his blue eyes stand out. Ronald, his right hand man. He was directly in charge of everything that happened in the shipping yard.
On the couch directly opposite his desk was a wiry man with corkscrew curls and pursed lips that made it seem he'd just swallowed something sour. He was the only one dressed anywhere near formal in gray slacks and a dark blue polo. His dark brown eyes watched Sullivan intently. Cameron, his secretary.
"So starting tomorrow, things are back to normal." Sullivan shuffled some papers in front of him, neatly set them out of the way and folded his hands on top of the desk. His walnut cane sat near to hand, leaning against the desk. "Hopefully. How are things in the yard?"
"Unsettled. No one's comfortable with the idea that we helped bust Pierre, boss. Even if it means we're in real good standing with the Azura."
"They should be more unsettled," Sullivan replied icily. "That Pierre nearly had us on the Azura's bad side. So remind them who we report to in this business and notify me of any problems. Play it cool; the less upset we seem by all this, the less upset they'll be." He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cam, anything for me?"
Cameron gave him a dry look. "You've got several party invitations to pick through. And Hamilton wants to play golf on Sunday."
Sullivan sent a scathing look toward the wall past Cameron. "Because playing golf is something a cripple would have so much fun doing. Tell him to fuck off and give me something of importance."
"Your little freak is being bitchy again."
Seeing Cam's annoyance, Sullivan refrained from laughing. "What's wrong this time?"
"Ask him yourself," Ronald muttered. "Four, three, two, o--"
Dead on cue, there was a series of sharp, short loud knocks on the door of his office. Sullivan grinned and shook his head. "Enter!" he called.
A small whirlwind of energy blew into his office to the sound of some indistinct song blaring from headphones tucked into the collar of a tight, bright green tank top. Short black hair with random strands dyed purple made his blue eyes almost look violet, and the tiny red birthmark beneath his right eye made the whirlwind look younger than his twenty-seven years. His black jeans were worn, soft, and fit well. The thick maroon carpet in Sullivan's office muffled the clomping of his heavy black boots.
"Liv," the whirlwind said, slamming his hands down on the desk, then half-spinning to point an accusing finger at the two men behind him. "Would you please tell these Neanderthals to keep their grubby mitts away from my goddamned equipment before they manage to not only wreck my damned system but also blow us to smithereens?"
Sullivan couldn't resist a laugh. "Kill the music, Tybalt. It's a wonder to me you're not deaf, as high as you keep it."
"Huh? Yeah, sure thing." Tybalt thumped the off button on the mp3 player clipped to his pants without taking his eyes off of Sullivan. "Now, about your Neanderthals."
"Watch it, kid." Cameron said in a warning tone.
Tybalt turned his head to sneer. "I ain't been a kid in years. At least I know how to use a damn computer. You couldn't find the on switch if it called your name and asked for a fuck."
"Goddamn you!" Cameron shot out of his chair and headed straight for him, murder in his eyes.
Sullivan figured laughing wouldn't be a good idea at that point. Standing, he raised his voice to be heard over the bickering. "Enough!" he shouted. "Cameron, Tybalt, shut the hell up and sit down. Now."
Still glaring at each other, the two men obeyed.
"Tybalt, what is the problem this time?" Sullivan sat back down, but did not relax. He generally had to break up at least three fights before meetings involving Cameron and Tybalt ended.
Tybalt pointed a thumb at Ron and Cam. "These cave-men were pawing over my equipment again. It's hard enough to keep it running like you want without them disrupting everything. Your damn systems don't run on magic, you know."
"Yes, I know." Sullivan quirked his lips and then looked at his secretary and assistant. "What's up?"
Cameron was back to pursing his lips. "We have every right to check his equipment. I don't trust leaving it to just him."
Tybalt snorted. "Yeah, because of course you know what the hell you're looking at. I could be planning the theft of the century and all you'd ever see is that I'm playing pac-man!" Tybalt shot up as Cameron stood to go after him again.
"SIT!" Sullivan roared.
"Liv, I had to spend two hours repairing the damage they did 'looking over' my equipment. If you don't trust me, fine. But have someone who at least knows what a monitor is look over my stuff to check I'm legit."
Cameron narrowed his eyes, "I know what a monitor is, you nasty little worm. It's no wonder you're so good at computers - you clearly can't communicate with people."
Tybalt sneered back at him, "This from the man who gets turned down flat by a blow up doll."
"That's it."
Sullivan began to stop them, then just sighed. "Ron? If you please?"
Ronald nodded. "There was someone wandering around outside last night, boss. Cam and I saw him, but when we called up Tybalt to ask about it, he told us there was no one there. We know what we saw - either he's lying or something is wrong with his precious equipment. Either way, we had the right to check it for ourselves." He shrugged, "Cam got a bit carried away and did something to one of the programs. What, I couldn't tell you." A grin, "I'm just a caveman."
Sullivan smiled back and then grabbed his cane, slamming it down with an echoing crack on his desk. "Cam, Ron, out. Tybalt, stay. We need to talk."
Cameron tucked his shirt back in and smoothed hair. He started to smirk, but winced at the pain caused by the split in his lower lip. He left, Ronald right behind him.
Standing slowly, Sullivan idly made his way around the desk to lean against it, hands braced on his cane as he contemplated Tybalt. "You do like to cause an uproar don't you?"
Tybalt gingerly examined his cheek, where a livid bruise was already appearing. "Only where that backwater monkey is concerned." He looked at Sullivan. "I know I'm the odd one out here, Liv, but give me a break. I know my shit, and I'm not fucking around. I'm on the level and so is my stuff. You pay too much for me to want to lose this gig. Swear it."
Sullivan contemplated him in silence for a few minutes, trying to keep his mind on the problem at hand and not on how positively edible his tech was. The tank top and jeans fit entirely too well, and he knew when the young man turned to leave, he'd see the slightest bit of black ink peeking out of the right arm of that tank top. How often had he fantasized about peeling that top off and finally seeing what sort of tattoo the man had on his back? Tracing it with his tongue, tracing the muscles that were oddly developed for someone who spent almost all his time on a computer.
Then again, not many techs carried handguns either. He forced his attention back to the present. "Look, everyone is still real tense about everything that just went down. Double crossing Pierre, even with the Azura's backing, is no small matter. Everyone is going to be tense for a long, long time. So if Cam and Ron are a little anxious, let them be. If it will make everyone happy, I'll bring someone trustworthy in to give your stuff a once over and then all you'll have to do is behave, all right?"
"My equipment is fine," Tybalt said petulantly. "But whatever keeps the party going."
"Don't worry. They'll be so anxious to get rid of the 'consultant' I have in mind, they won't be able to approve his analysis fast enough." Sullivan winked. "Now go put something on that bruise and then get back to work. Come by tomorrow morning to update me on whatever changes and improvements you've made.
Tybalt flashed him a happy grin. "Sure thing! I've made scads of improvements, just wait."
"Get going, and avoid Cameron for a couple of days."" Sullivan smiled back. He watched as Tybalt turned and left, eyes locking onto the hint of tattoo peeking out of his tank top.
And sighed heavily as the door slammed closed, thinking sobering thoughts to cool himself down. "Out of reach, Sully, out of reach."
He jumped slightly at movement from the corner of his eyes, then realized it was only a plant, rustled by the AC which had just kicked on. "You're a likely target for assassination," he muttered to himself. "Stop lusting after someone eight years younger and think about trying to stay alive."
no subject
Date: 2005-05-16 12:17 pm (UTC)If this is how you give presents, I bet I can find a bunch of people with birthdays coming up XD~
Happy birthday Megan's sister ^^.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-16 12:20 pm (UTC)Nah. I won't be doing that one for awhile. But I'm sure that helped inspire this.
Lol. I already owe too many stories, so don't find too many birthdays ^^;
no subject
Date: 2005-05-16 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-16 01:51 pm (UTC)I know this is supposed to be for Rykaine, but it's such a nice treat first thing on a Monday morning.
*love, love, love*
p.s. Happy Birthday, Rykaine!!!
no subject
Date: 2005-05-16 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-16 02:03 pm (UTC)Either way, we had the right to check it for ourselves." He shrugged, "Cam got a bit carried away and did something to one of the programs. What, I couldn't tell you." A grin, "I'm just a caveman."
Fullstops after "shrugged" and "grin", I believe.
And there was a double " somewhere... Ah, right.
"Get going, and avoid Cameron for a couple of days."" Sullivan smiled back.
*hugs* It looks interesting. >D
no subject
Date: 2005-05-16 02:29 pm (UTC)<3 So So much.
Did I mention my half Birthday is coming up...? XD
Fly by squealing
Date: 2005-05-16 02:50 pm (UTC)*is in love with Tybalt's character*