bedlamsbard (
bedlamsbard) wrote2007-06-19 05:12 pm
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CSI:NY fic: Bardverse snapshot
I leave for Rhode Island on Saturday. Yay? Also, hopefully once I'm there, I will be able to figure out how to connect my laptop to the Internet, otherwise I might disappear into the Atlantic! Rhode Island is a very tiny state; you never know.
Also, fic. More Flack and LaMontagne in New Orleans.
"Jackie Schneider -- they call him the German -- and Rick Paolini," LaMontagne said, sounding disgusted. "Proof that New Orleans really does have a little bit of everything."
"Mafia?" Flack said.
"Capos to the Devil, who's otherwise known as Nero Vallone. Just another hardass tryin' to make the city his playground by killin' off everyone in his path." He cast a jaded eye over the two Mafioso and added, "They'll scatter as soon as we go for them."
Flack glanced over, mock-casual even though the windows of the car were tinted. "They haven't made us yet."
"I've picked both of them up before," LaMontagne said. "Any chance I got of taking them by surprise is ten years in the hole."
Flack smirked. "But they don't know me," he said, unclipping his badge from his belt and sliding it into his pocket. He took off his tie and and tossed it into the back of the car, then rolled up his sleeves.
LaMontagne was grinning. "Don't forget your piece," he said.
"I've never met a mobster who wasn't carrying," Flack remarked, touching the butt of his gun thoughtfully. He wasn't wearing a police issue .38, but his own piece. It'd do. "Flank 'em?"
"You distract them, I'll come up behind." LaMontagne was the first out of hte car, heading away from Schneider and Paolini, around the bakc of the block. Flack waited five minutes and then got out.
He kept his sunglasses on and walked slow, with the faux-casual he'd seen Constantine's guys pull off more than once. He was pulling out a chair at their cafe table before they even realized he was there.
"You must be Vallone's boys," he said as both their hands disappeared beneath the table.
"Maybe," Schneider said warily. "Who wants to know?"
"Name's DiNozzo," Flack said, exaggerating his accent. "I work for Danny Messer."
"Why do we care?" Paolini asked.
Flack shrugged. "I work for Danny, Danny works for Val Constantine, Val works for the Commission -- you know how it is. Especially since your boss just asked the Commission to back up his claim, but hey, if I've got the wrong guys just say so and I'll keep walkin'."
"Funny," Schneider remarked, "you don't look Italian."
"Well, my pa was half Mick but we don't like to talk about that in polite company," Flack said, grinning and showing all his teeth doing it. LaMontagne was coming out through the cafe doors, hand on his gun. "So whaddaya say, boys? You wanna run it down for me, or should I just call my boss and to tell with the prelims?"
"You got something for me first," Paolini said, staring him down.
"Right," Flack said, reaching down. Both mobsters' eyes sharpened, bodies tensing. "I almost forgot." He put his badge on the table. "Man, am I stupid or what?"
Paolini swung around, right into the barrel of LaMontagne's gun. "Hi there, boys," the detective said brightly. "It's been a while since your last arrest, hasn't it?"
Schneider looked for escape and Flack put his gun on the table next to his badge, hand easy on the body-warm metal.
"Let's talk about some dead hookers," LaMontagne said.
Also, fic. More Flack and LaMontagne in New Orleans.
"Jackie Schneider -- they call him the German -- and Rick Paolini," LaMontagne said, sounding disgusted. "Proof that New Orleans really does have a little bit of everything."
"Mafia?" Flack said.
"Capos to the Devil, who's otherwise known as Nero Vallone. Just another hardass tryin' to make the city his playground by killin' off everyone in his path." He cast a jaded eye over the two Mafioso and added, "They'll scatter as soon as we go for them."
Flack glanced over, mock-casual even though the windows of the car were tinted. "They haven't made us yet."
"I've picked both of them up before," LaMontagne said. "Any chance I got of taking them by surprise is ten years in the hole."
Flack smirked. "But they don't know me," he said, unclipping his badge from his belt and sliding it into his pocket. He took off his tie and and tossed it into the back of the car, then rolled up his sleeves.
LaMontagne was grinning. "Don't forget your piece," he said.
"I've never met a mobster who wasn't carrying," Flack remarked, touching the butt of his gun thoughtfully. He wasn't wearing a police issue .38, but his own piece. It'd do. "Flank 'em?"
"You distract them, I'll come up behind." LaMontagne was the first out of hte car, heading away from Schneider and Paolini, around the bakc of the block. Flack waited five minutes and then got out.
He kept his sunglasses on and walked slow, with the faux-casual he'd seen Constantine's guys pull off more than once. He was pulling out a chair at their cafe table before they even realized he was there.
"You must be Vallone's boys," he said as both their hands disappeared beneath the table.
"Maybe," Schneider said warily. "Who wants to know?"
"Name's DiNozzo," Flack said, exaggerating his accent. "I work for Danny Messer."
"Why do we care?" Paolini asked.
Flack shrugged. "I work for Danny, Danny works for Val Constantine, Val works for the Commission -- you know how it is. Especially since your boss just asked the Commission to back up his claim, but hey, if I've got the wrong guys just say so and I'll keep walkin'."
"Funny," Schneider remarked, "you don't look Italian."
"Well, my pa was half Mick but we don't like to talk about that in polite company," Flack said, grinning and showing all his teeth doing it. LaMontagne was coming out through the cafe doors, hand on his gun. "So whaddaya say, boys? You wanna run it down for me, or should I just call my boss and to tell with the prelims?"
"You got something for me first," Paolini said, staring him down.
"Right," Flack said, reaching down. Both mobsters' eyes sharpened, bodies tensing. "I almost forgot." He put his badge on the table. "Man, am I stupid or what?"
Paolini swung around, right into the barrel of LaMontagne's gun. "Hi there, boys," the detective said brightly. "It's been a while since your last arrest, hasn't it?"
Schneider looked for escape and Flack put his gun on the table next to his badge, hand easy on the body-warm metal.
"Let's talk about some dead hookers," LaMontagne said.
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He was prepared to do it -- obviously, the first thing he thinks of when the word "mob" crosses anyone's lips is Danny -- so it was just a matter of compartmentalizing. There's another scene, which I didn't write, that occurs right after this, where LaMontagne asks who Danny Messer is and Flack tells him. After that? Drinking ensues. (Also, I have the idea that, like, three days later Danny actually does come to New Orleans to talk to Vallone, and the New Orleans mob is really suspicious. Then Danny hunts down Flack.)
(Also, I figured out The Very Last Bardverse Story Ever, and another one on the way. You know, in case I ever decide to write in this 'verse seriously again.)
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I think I shed tears reading this statement, and they weren't HAPPY tears. I love this verse too much to want it to end :(
You know, in case I ever decide to write in this 'verse seriously again.
Haha, yeah, right, exactly!
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Strangely enough, Danny doesn't figure significantly in either of them, which is why I think I'll never write them, because the Bardverse started out being All About Danny.
And by seriously, I mean "novel-length."
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Novel-length is awesome, though!
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This is true.
Also, lots of ficathons!
Also true.
Which are all your fault!
I accept full blame for this.
But so so very awesome....
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I am this close to writing a Supernatural/Ghost Rider crossover with Dean as the ghost rider and Sam as the girl, because oh my God, have you seen it? Possible ranting and meta forthcoming.
Well, at least I'm a productive member of fandom again.
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Well, at least I'm a productive member of fandom again.
SEE?! Look on the BRIGHT SIDE of these things! :D
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Hurrah?
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*dramatic sigh*
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I'd like to see that, I think. The gray lines only from a different side, white into gray, not black -- the other way 'round.
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I think the reason it doesn't happen is because heaven is the "good" side, and they don't need to resort to bounties and action/adventure in order to win. They have mortal champions for that reason :D
Yeah, I think it'd be interesting to really see it, though.
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No, no, that's what I'm talking about! You don't really see mortal champions so much. I mean, there was Buffy and Angel, to an extent, but that's not the same thing. It's not so blatant. I mean, okay, in Ghost Rider you have the Ghost Rider, who's Hell's bounty hunter, and in Supernatural you have the Demon and his kids, who are...something or other, but obviously related to hell. What does Heaven got? I've seen it maybe once or twice even in fic; the only thing I can think of in canon is BtVS/ATS.
I have angels in my original universe, but not really the Christian type, because of the whole "not Christian" thing, but that's the closest I've gotten. /frustrated.
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Okay, yeah, I guess I see what you mean. I never think of it, though, because the agents of Hell are always much cooler than the agents of Heaven would be.
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Of course, on second thought Heaven doesn't actually need to send people down to Earth to drag souls up to Heaven like Hell does, but it'd be keeping stuff away from Hell, yes? Keeping the balance.
Speaking of which, have you read
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Maybe that's why Heaven has the Church... to keep balance.
No, I haven't read that one. I don't tend to read Buffy-'verse unless it's a pairing that I really like.
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Spuffy?
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:D I agree, it would be cool, and it's totally not done enough.
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The Dresden Files. The books, more than the TV show. Like, there's a guy named Michael who's actually a warrior for Heaven (no relation to the angel), and he's one of the three warriors on Earth entrusted with a Sword of God or whatever it's called to fight the demons on Earth.
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Actually, I just remembered a Hercules: the Legendary Journeys fic that had angels on Earth. Huh. Cool!
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(Anonymous) 2007-06-20 08:49 am (UTC)(link)"Well, my pa was half Mick but we don't like to talk about that in polite company," Flack said, grinning and showing all his teeth doing it.
I can picture this scene very clearly. Especially the above exchange. Flack's quick thinking is impressive.
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