Blurring The
Lines
Part
One: “Come
on, Mick, don’t be like this.” Andy called out as soon as he pushed past the
front doors of their apartment building. Mick,
dressed in the casual jeans and t-shirt he almost never wore, hefted the last of
the carefully taped and labeled boxes into the back of an older, well maintained
car. Andy knew the casual clothes had been bought in college, at his urging, and
the man wearing them now had filled out a bit more since than. The simple act of
loading the car was nearly indecent given how tightly the cloth clung to the
other man. Mick,
as always, was unaware of the image he was providing. It made Andy smile to
himself and force out the raw honest truth that it wasn’t simple charity that
had him and their room mates wanting the other man to stick around. Two years
younger than the rest of them and not yet twenty seven, with dark auburn hair
that shone like a copper penny in the sun, fair skin with freckles so small
across his nose as to almost be invisible, topped off with expressive hazel eyes
and classic features that lit up when he smiled, Mick was hot enough to stop
traffic. That was if he didn’t dress twice his age and take everything so
seriously. “Mick,”
Andy was dressed in casual clothes too, a pink cotton school girl skirt, pink
fuzzy slippers and a black t-shirt with the word ‘Bitchy’ emblazoned across
it in gold glitter. “Don’t leave us.” He waited until the younger man
glanced over his shoulder to twirl one of his pigtails around his finger, fully
aware how he looked. All
it earned him was a thin, small, grin, not the full thousand watt smile such
clothes and silly behavior normally gained. “Andy, we all agreed when we moved
in together. If one of us couldn’t make rent, they’d move out.” “Well,
yeah, but we did that to protect you from us lazy ass artist types. None of us
expected you to follow that. Come on, you’ll have another job in a couple of
weeks, we can cover for you. With Samson’s newest fling kicking in his share
we don’t even really need yours, we talked about it. Stay.” Truth was, they
could only float Mick for a month or two it was a gamble but that’s what
friends did. “I
know full well none of you can afford that. Things happen, that’s life.” He
shut the car door with a little too much force. “Than
stay, we can get you work down at Hardy’s. You know you can bartend again,
swallow your pride and stay.” Andy moved closer to where his friend leaned
against his car and he could see the internal battle between desire to stay and
responsibility. “I
didn’t go to college to bartend forever.” “Well,
you didn’t become a cop to be kicked around by bigoted assholes either but
shit happens, sweetheart. Now, open that door and let me help you carry those
boxes back upstairs.” Mick
reached across the distance between them and slid a hand to the back of his
friends neck before swooping in to place a quick kiss on the so far unpainted
lips. “And let you break a nail? Never. Thanks for trying, Andy, I do
appreciate it.” “Where
will you go? The housing market right now isn’t exactly grand. I’m not going
to stand by and let my best friend be homeless, or worse sleep in one of those
awful flophouses.” That
made Mick laugh but the smile was still missing. “I have enough mothers Andy.” “Well,
if any of them actually mothered you I wouldn’t need to. I’m serious. Where
do you think you’ll go?” Mick
just shrugged. “I’ll be fine. If things get to bad I’ll go home for a bit.” “Great,
like that makes me feel any better.” “I’ve
got to go Andy.” “Shit,
you’re a brat.” He tried pouting but that didn’t work either. “You’ll
have your phone on? I’ll worry if I call and you don’t answer.” “Of
course.” “And
you’ll come by and still be our friend?” “Of
course.” Andy
sighed and studied the too serious face for any signs of an opening, when all he
found was quiet and unhappy resolve, he knew he’d lost. “I still say you’re
an unforgivable brat, but I hate good byes so.” He leaned forward, stole
another kiss before quickly hurrying back inside the building. Nine AM, before
breakfast, and already he felt like the day was ruined. Mick
stayed where he was leaning against his car and rubbed at his eyes. “Do you
have something to say to me or do you just like listening in to private
conversations for fun?” He asked without looking up, feeling the other man’s
eyes still on him. The
man that had hovered a good distance away but still well within easy earshot,
jumped a little startled and the paper he’d been pretending to read crinkled
in his hands. It was the first real look Mick had gotten of the fellow and he
was surprised at the age. The man had to have been close to his own age or r a
few years older. A shock of sandy blonde hair was cut short in the back and left
to fall in short strands around the top, it was a style very popular at the
moment with their age group. Tall, close to six feet, and lean without being
underfed, the man was attractive in a plain, over look-able way. It was the suit
he was wearing that caught the most attention, far too well cut to be anything
anyone in the neighborhood could afford. Far too well made to be anything most
anyone could afford, let alone a twenty something kid. The
blond was only startled for a moment, his composure returned quickly as he
folded the paper over and tucked it under an arm. With an air of unconscious
habit, he straightened his suit jacket and reached down to catch the handle of a
well made, but well worn, hard sized leather brief case. “A.R.
McKale?” The blonde questioned as he approached. “If
you had any question as to who I was you wouldn’t have been hovering over
there.” Mick stayed where he leaned against his car. A
smile lit up the strangers face, warming his eyes. “Very true, my name is Alec
Orwick. My intention wasn’t to spy on you but I didn’t wish to interrupt.” “What
can I do for you, Mr. Orwick.” He didn’t let the smile and open, disarming
face work on him. “I
was wondering if I might have a moment of your time. Buy you a cup of coffee?” “I’ll
tell you the same thing I’ve told your fellow members of the press, I don’t
have anything to say that anyone wants to hear.” The
bright smile flashed again. “I’m not a reporter, please, just a few moments?” Mick
had always trusted his instincts and the young man across from him wasn’t
setting any of them off. He tossed his head down the street. “There’s a
coffee shop down on the corner. I’ve a little time.” “Wonderful,
thank you so much.” They
walked in silence down the street. The neighborhood was anchored in three shops,
the local grocer, the local bar and the local coffee shop. The rest of the
stores, pawn shops, small retail storefronts and the like were all extras, it
was those three that held the neighborhood together. It was to those three that
just about everyone eventually found a connection and crowd to gossip with. The
only reason Mick had any connection to any of the three centers of gossip and
community was because Andy and Samson had coffee monkey’s on their backs. The
take out counter was busy but the tables were almost empty, too far from the
college to support a morning lingering student crowd. Mick led them to a back
corner that was empty of other customers and far away from the bustle of the
counter. Before either of them could settle in one of the girls had slipped over
to meet them. “Aw,
Mick, I’m glad you stopped in.” She leaned in and placed a kiss on the side
of his face. “We’ve all been worried you’d leave without stopping by.” “Hey,
Jinny. Shouldn’t you be helping with the rush?”
She waved it off. “Boss lady can’t fire herself. Can I get you your normal?”
She eyed the stranger in his too nice suit. “And something for your friend?” “Regular’s
fine for me whatever he wants, he’s buying.” “Just
a coffee, thank you.” Alec offered up to the waitress but he was watching Mick
settle into a chair across from him. “Now,
what can I do for you Mr. Orwick?” “Mr.
McKale, I’m Mr. Toshi Hoshimoto Ranvier’s personal assistant. Are you aware
of Mr. Ranvier?” The
casually dropped name wasn’t where Mick thought the conversation might have
gone. “Who isn’t aware of him, the half human, half incubus illegitimate son
and only child to Luke Henri Ranvier, the richest man in the world.” “There’s
some debate as to whether or not Luke Henri Ranvier is the richest man in the
world but essentially, yes, what you say is true.” Alec’s words stopped at
the movement from the counter. Mick
hopped to his feet and hurried over to where Jinny was carrying two coffees and
a small plate with a blueberry muffin. “Thanks.” “I’ve
got it.” She always protested but he always helped. “He’s cute, but
fellows dressed like that,” her lowered voice died off, leaving the warning
unspoken. “It‘s
okay Jinny, thanks.” He ignored her little disbelieving tsk as she turned back
to the counter. “So,” he settled back down and watched as the blonde added
sugar to his coffee. “You work for Toshi Ranvier.” “Yes,
as I’m sure you can imagine, his position of heir and only child to such a
wealthy man makes him quite a public figure. Add in his mixed heritage, well,
the press hounds him and he receives numerous threats to his life a day. Up
until this point, all they’ve been is threats. “Several
weeks ago, someone attempted to shoot Mr. Ranvier. They missed, but not by much.” “There
wasn’t anything in the papers about it.” “No
and there won’t be, it’s been kept quiet. The police have been slow to
investigate. Honestly, they’ve done nothing and it’s my belief they wouldn’t
be too upset if the shooter succeeds next time. Mr. Ranvier’s father is
rightfully concerned, he maintains a security force of almost two dozen and has
long been unhappy that his son refuses such measures.” Mick
stopped toying with the muffin, leaving the increasingly smaller crumbs alone.
“So what is it you want from me?” “They’ve
reached a compromise. Mr. Ranvier’s father will settle for a smaller security
force if carefully selected. The standards he set were high, add in the
difficulties of finding someone sympathetic to Mr. Ranvier’s mixed bloodlines,
understanding of his intensely private ways and willing to work with his
reluctance for any security measures, finding suitable candidates has been
difficult. I’ve been making inquires for weeks and there’s only been a few
names that appear over and over again. Yours is one of the few.” Mick
sipped his coffee. “You haven’t heard, I got bounced off the force.” That
only made Alec smile again. “You underestimate my skills at research. There’s
very little I don’t know about you. I know you’re an Inky. I know you
started college at fifteen, graduated top of your class with degrees in both
psychology and criminal science. I know the federal government attempted to
recruit you but you entered the police academy instead. Graduated the top of
your class there as well, started working on your master’s degree, dropped out
when you made detective a year and a half ago. I’ve studied your case
histories, filled with accommodations. I’ve spoken to the citizens you’ve
interviewed, especially those in the I/S community. I’m fully aware the
charges brought against you were completely unfounded and used as a means to
remove you. What I don’t know is why you refused to fight those charges.” “You’ve
done your homework but I’m not an Inky.” The
smile returned, hiding the bright interest. “Forgive me, raised in an Inky
Commune. Both have the desired effect that you are a little more understanding
of other people’s difference than the average person in security or law
enforcement. I also know enough about you to know you respect directness. I’ve
been charged with hiring the security force to keep Mr. Ranvier safe, you are my
top choice. You’re smart, well educated, have a tremendous record.” “So?
There are plenty of others better qualified than me. I’ve never worked
personal security before.” “True.
Mr. McKale this isn’t just about who can analysis threats. Mr. Ranvier does
wear an inhibitor but like most I/S, he misses little. Someone equally qualified
but even slightly uneasy around him will be noticed. He’s resentful of having
to add on a security force, it’ll be counterproductive if he’s unable to
trust them.” “How
large of a team are you putting together?” “Well,
that depends. If you refuse I’ll be hiring three others, if you accept my
offer, it’ll just be you.” Mick
laughed. “You’re crazy.” “No,
please, hear me out.” He brushed his so far untouched coffee aside and set his
case on the table. The latches popped open and he started to pull papers out.
“My proposition to you is this;” a paper slid across the table. “This is
the salary figure ranges, there is room for negotiations.” Mick
nearly swallowed his coffee wrong but Alec ignored him and kept going. A
second paper followed the first. “A list of standard benefits Mr. Ranvier
offers his employees.” Another paper appeared. “You’ll have an expense
account of course and will be reimbursed for anything you require. Additionally,
you’ll be provided an apartment that interconnects with Mr. Ranvier’s
penthouse in Darsel Plaza. It’s not very large but it has a private entrance,
it’s the twin of my set of rooms. You’ll have access to the in house staff
which you can take advantage of or not as you wish. You’ll have a private
office to work from as well. “If
you refuse, I’ll hire two on call bodyguards and one analyst. It won’t work
as well but it should keep him alive.” “I
was right, you’re insane. The low end salary numbers are twice what I was
making.” “Mr.
Ranvier is a very good employer.” “Than
to add all the rest in? Just what kind of duties would be required?” “You’d
be expected to sort the threats we receive, file out the crackpots from anything
serious. It’d be your job to check security at any event he attends, to see to
it that it’s adequate and to make it adequate if it isn’t. You’d be
required to escort him when he goes out, which isn’t often. Additionally, you’d
be expected to investigate any serious threats. They’ll be bonuses if your
investigations lead to arrests. Primarily, it’ll be your job to keep him safe.” Another
paper slid across the table. “You’ll be asked to sign a confidentiality
contract, it’s a standard form that all personal employees must agree to.
Also, as a member of his house hold,” A thick stack of papers joined the pile.
“You’ll be under a sideline jurisdiction of the Containment Committee.” That
raised Mick’s eye brows. “How so? I thought they had no authority over
humans?” “True,
but because Mr. Ranvier technically has access to the private apartments that
interconnect with his own, they can be searched. I’ve worked and lived with
Mr. Ranvier for six years, in that time they’ve searched my rooms twice.
Generally, they just check the land line records to make sure Mr. Ranvier hasn’t
accessed them and at most, they do a walk through. I’ve been blood tested a
few times as well. It’s annoying but for me, it’s acceptable.” “I’ve
never had an interest in private security.” “I’m
aware of that which is why I’ll say one thing formally and a second
informally. The first is this, the original contract of employment is for thirty
days. At the end of the thirty days you can walk away. If we both agree to renew
the contract, it can be dissolved with three weeks notice by either party at any
time. If something occurs, I might be able to have a system in place to replace
you before that three weeks but it’s taken me almost three weeks to get to
this conversation so I want to give myself the same amount of time again.” The
employment contract appeared from the briefcase and joined the stack. “The
informal second thing is this; Mr. Ranvier is almost a shut in. He rarely goes
out, rarely has company in. Most of the events he is forced to attend are very
secure already. He’s capable of taking care of himself. Yes, we receive a fair
number of threats but most are empty. You’ll have time to work on any side
project you might want to. I know for a fact that Mr. Ranvier will fully support
any private investigations you might wish to pursue.” The brief case snapped
shut. “All
I’m asking, Mr. McKale, is to give this the thirty days.” He dropped a
twenty dollar bill on the table, twice or more the total for the drinks and
muffin that sat uneaten and handed over a crisp business card. “Read over the
paper work, think about it, than call me. That’s my private line, I can always
be reached there. If I don’t hear from you by two, I’m contacting the other
three. I want this resolved today.” Alec scooped up his case and paper. “Thank
you for hearing me out, Mr. McKale. I look forward to your call.” Alec
slipped out of the coffee shop and didn’t look back. Anyone else would have
been fooled by the carefully guarded expression, Mr. McKale wore but Alec had
picked up a few things living with Toshi for so many years. There was very
little other humans could hide from him. He saw McKale’s shock at the entire
offer but he also saw the curiosity and the interest in those hidden hazel eyes.
There was a reason why he needed to come down and meet with this man personally
and it had worked out beautifully. There was no way McKale wouldn’t be
calling, it was only a matter of when. | 