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meredevachon, the comm's already working!!
Title: One Shot Nothing
Verse: Deathknell
Rating: PG-13
Authors:nilchance and beanside
Disclaimer: Never happened, merely fiction.
He was the Senior Advisor to the President of the United States, Chad fumed silently. Yet here he was, being sent into town like a fucking errand boy to fetch said President's boy. So very beneath him.
Maybe he could negotiate some extra supplies out of the town Chief while he was at it. They could really use some extra fuel for the furnace, and maybe some more furs. Christ knew, he hadn't had much luck getting anything else to warm his bed.
Fucking Morgan and his total clueless ass. He hadn't had time to hit the town since they'd arrived, trying to forge new alliances, chatting with various Warlords and Ministers on the satcom at all hours. Sure, there was always Gina or Sam, but since both of them could break him with their thumb, Chad figured that put the kind of pressure on his performance that he didn't need.
He snuck a look at Sam from under the brim of his helmet as they pulled up to the Chief's house. She wasn't pretty, but there was something striking about her, that much was for sure.
“Problem, pretty boy?” she asked.
“No, not particularly. You staying, or going back with the boytoy?”
Her lips twisted. “I'll stay. Carlson is going back with Jared. I'm supposed to watch your back. For some reason, the President thinks you're an assassination risk. I can see why. I've known you for three weeks and I want to kill you.”
Chad smirked. “Gee, I feel all warm and fuzzy about having you protecting me now.”
“Good. It'll keep you on your toes. Now go get Jared.”
The woman who opened the door is stunning. “May I help you?” she asked, voice low and melodic.
He tried not to leer. He really did. “Oh, I'm sure you could.”
One sculpted eyebrow lifted. “Excuse me?”
Sam snorted behind him, and Chad sighed. So much for getting laid today.
“Hey, Rachel,” Sam said. “Jeff needs Jared back at the house. Ignore him.”
Rachel's polite smile thawed a touch, and she glanced back. “Oh. You must be Chad. Jared's...spoken of you. They're in the study,” she added, turning to usher them into the house.
“You do realize that she's the Chief and his partner's bodyguard, right?” Sam hissed, her hand landing at the base of his neck, effectively scruffing him.
“Her?”
"Do the words 'krav magda' ring a bell, you sexist ass?"
Chad swallowed hard. "Oh.'
Rachel led them to the study near the back of the house. It... wasn't what Chad had expected.
Instead of the traditional native furniture, everything was modern looking, but well worn. Jared glanced up as they entered. "Hey, Chad. Everything okay?"
"As far as I know. The president said that he needs you. Knowing him, he probably nailed his hand to something." Chad shrugged. "He sent me to take over negotiations."
"Oh. Okay." Jared stood up, offering a quick apology to the balding man who sat behind the desk. "I'll try to come back, but Chad's authorized to make decisions for the administration. Chad, this is David. David, Chad, Jeff's top advisor."
Chad nodded. "Pleasure."
Jared stopped next to him and leaned close. "If you fuck this up, they won't find the body, got it smart ass? We need their help, so don't alienate them.
"I'm the soul of tact and charm," Chad shot back dryly, settling into the chair across from the Chief. "You're not what I expected."
David leaned forward, a smile touching his mouth. "Really? Do tell."
"How does someone who may well be the whitest man I've ever seen become Chief of a ninety percent native town?"
"No one else wanted the job. And I see why." David waved a dismissive hand. "Now. We were discussing fuel deliveries for the winter."
"Perfect. We need to up the deliveries from once a week to twice."
"No."
"We're running out of fuel for the guard houses," Chad returned.
"Yes. Well, I warned Mr. Kane that would be a problem, especially if there were to be a problem with the pipeline. Small freestanding structures take much more fuel than you'd expect. But unfortunately, we cannot accommodate your request."
"Bullshit. Don't think I don't know that you've got blubber stores rotting."
"Why yes, we do. And you're right. That could be converted into heating fuel... if we had the proper facilities. But as of right now, we don't. So, as they say, suck it up."
"Yet this house feels rather cozy."
David's smile didn't bode well. "Well, yes. That's because I'm not an idiot. Far from it. I was an engineer on the pipeline before, you know. Specialized in conversion of fuel sources. So between my partner Joe and I, we've mocked up a prototype conversion unit for the house."
Fuck. "What will it take to get one of those for the President's compound?"
"So, I'm to bend over for the President and ignore the people who put me in office? That's hardly an option. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Well, it occurs to me that we could certainly have a plant up and running before we lose daylight. But that will take some money."
"Doesn't it always," Chad muttered.
David scribbled a few numbers on the pad of paper. “This would be the immediate need. However, I could possibly lower it slightly in exchange for the promise of a beneficial deal with the inferior states, should President Morgan return to power.”
"He will." Chad glanced at the paper, managing not to wince at the number. “We could certainly work on that. As you know, even with alternative fuel sources, we'll be needing oil for fuel and heating. I could guarantee that in the future, the president would look favorably upon your help in preventing his guards from becoming popsicles.”
David's snort was echoed by the taller man who ducked into the room with a carafe of coffee. “No offense,” he murmured, setting the tray down. “But guarantees aren't worth the breath it takes to bullshit them. It's on paper, or no deal.”
“My partner, Joe,” David said by way of introduction, a fond smile touching his lips.
It was enough to make you want to barf. “Fine, so let's get down to it, then. I can offer first right of refusal, and the opportunity to match any other offers for setting up the US power system,” Chad said. “That's about as preferential as I can politically be. In addition,” he scratched out the number that David had written and wrote a significantly smaller amount under it, before pushing it across the table.
“I don't know,” David hedged. “That plant's not going to build itself.”
“Oh, come off it, Hewlett,” Joe snorted. “It's a damn fair offer.”
“Do you mind? I'm negotiating here!”
“Give up. You know you're going to take it, so skip the bullshit. It's more than you thought we'd get.” Joe smiled at Chad. Despite the good old boy act, Chad would bet that he could be as ruthless as David. “We've got a backup converter that we can have operational in a couple of days, so how about Friday for the shipment?”
Chad nodded. “If you'll get me your account number, I'll have the cash there by tomorrow at noon.”
“Perfect.” Joe glanced at the coffee and shrugged. “This calls for something else, I think—Damn, Rache, you're good,” he added as she came in with a bottle of champagne and four glasses.
Perhaps it was time to show some tact to the woman who could break him. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I'm sorry about earlier. They don't let me out often.”
Rachel deadpanned, “It shows.”
“It looks like I have off for the afternoon,” Chad ventured. “Any suggestions on things I might do to pass some time, rather than going back to the homestead?” He gave her his best sheepish smile. “I really haven't had a chance to come into town at all.”
She considered him for a moment before smiling. It's not as if she buys his pitch so much as she's amused by it. “I could show you around.”
David cleared his throat. “Just don't break him. He still has to wire the cash.”
Rachel eyed Chad in a way that unnerved him thoroughly. “No promises, boss.”
meredevachon, the comm's already working!!Title: One Shot Nothing
Verse: Deathknell
Rating: PG-13
Authors:
nilchance and beansideDisclaimer: Never happened, merely fiction.
He was the Senior Advisor to the President of the United States, Chad fumed silently. Yet here he was, being sent into town like a fucking errand boy to fetch said President's boy. So very beneath him.
Maybe he could negotiate some extra supplies out of the town Chief while he was at it. They could really use some extra fuel for the furnace, and maybe some more furs. Christ knew, he hadn't had much luck getting anything else to warm his bed.
Fucking Morgan and his total clueless ass. He hadn't had time to hit the town since they'd arrived, trying to forge new alliances, chatting with various Warlords and Ministers on the satcom at all hours. Sure, there was always Gina or Sam, but since both of them could break him with their thumb, Chad figured that put the kind of pressure on his performance that he didn't need.
He snuck a look at Sam from under the brim of his helmet as they pulled up to the Chief's house. She wasn't pretty, but there was something striking about her, that much was for sure.
“Problem, pretty boy?” she asked.
“No, not particularly. You staying, or going back with the boytoy?”
Her lips twisted. “I'll stay. Carlson is going back with Jared. I'm supposed to watch your back. For some reason, the President thinks you're an assassination risk. I can see why. I've known you for three weeks and I want to kill you.”
Chad smirked. “Gee, I feel all warm and fuzzy about having you protecting me now.”
“Good. It'll keep you on your toes. Now go get Jared.”
The woman who opened the door is stunning. “May I help you?” she asked, voice low and melodic.
He tried not to leer. He really did. “Oh, I'm sure you could.”
One sculpted eyebrow lifted. “Excuse me?”
Sam snorted behind him, and Chad sighed. So much for getting laid today.
“Hey, Rachel,” Sam said. “Jeff needs Jared back at the house. Ignore him.”
Rachel's polite smile thawed a touch, and she glanced back. “Oh. You must be Chad. Jared's...spoken of you. They're in the study,” she added, turning to usher them into the house.
“You do realize that she's the Chief and his partner's bodyguard, right?” Sam hissed, her hand landing at the base of his neck, effectively scruffing him.
“Her?”
"Do the words 'krav magda' ring a bell, you sexist ass?"
Chad swallowed hard. "Oh.'
Rachel led them to the study near the back of the house. It... wasn't what Chad had expected.
Instead of the traditional native furniture, everything was modern looking, but well worn. Jared glanced up as they entered. "Hey, Chad. Everything okay?"
"As far as I know. The president said that he needs you. Knowing him, he probably nailed his hand to something." Chad shrugged. "He sent me to take over negotiations."
"Oh. Okay." Jared stood up, offering a quick apology to the balding man who sat behind the desk. "I'll try to come back, but Chad's authorized to make decisions for the administration. Chad, this is David. David, Chad, Jeff's top advisor."
Chad nodded. "Pleasure."
Jared stopped next to him and leaned close. "If you fuck this up, they won't find the body, got it smart ass? We need their help, so don't alienate them.
"I'm the soul of tact and charm," Chad shot back dryly, settling into the chair across from the Chief. "You're not what I expected."
David leaned forward, a smile touching his mouth. "Really? Do tell."
"How does someone who may well be the whitest man I've ever seen become Chief of a ninety percent native town?"
"No one else wanted the job. And I see why." David waved a dismissive hand. "Now. We were discussing fuel deliveries for the winter."
"Perfect. We need to up the deliveries from once a week to twice."
"No."
"We're running out of fuel for the guard houses," Chad returned.
"Yes. Well, I warned Mr. Kane that would be a problem, especially if there were to be a problem with the pipeline. Small freestanding structures take much more fuel than you'd expect. But unfortunately, we cannot accommodate your request."
"Bullshit. Don't think I don't know that you've got blubber stores rotting."
"Why yes, we do. And you're right. That could be converted into heating fuel... if we had the proper facilities. But as of right now, we don't. So, as they say, suck it up."
"Yet this house feels rather cozy."
David's smile didn't bode well. "Well, yes. That's because I'm not an idiot. Far from it. I was an engineer on the pipeline before, you know. Specialized in conversion of fuel sources. So between my partner Joe and I, we've mocked up a prototype conversion unit for the house."
Fuck. "What will it take to get one of those for the President's compound?"
"So, I'm to bend over for the President and ignore the people who put me in office? That's hardly an option. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Well, it occurs to me that we could certainly have a plant up and running before we lose daylight. But that will take some money."
"Doesn't it always," Chad muttered.
David scribbled a few numbers on the pad of paper. “This would be the immediate need. However, I could possibly lower it slightly in exchange for the promise of a beneficial deal with the inferior states, should President Morgan return to power.”
"He will." Chad glanced at the paper, managing not to wince at the number. “We could certainly work on that. As you know, even with alternative fuel sources, we'll be needing oil for fuel and heating. I could guarantee that in the future, the president would look favorably upon your help in preventing his guards from becoming popsicles.”
David's snort was echoed by the taller man who ducked into the room with a carafe of coffee. “No offense,” he murmured, setting the tray down. “But guarantees aren't worth the breath it takes to bullshit them. It's on paper, or no deal.”
“My partner, Joe,” David said by way of introduction, a fond smile touching his lips.
It was enough to make you want to barf. “Fine, so let's get down to it, then. I can offer first right of refusal, and the opportunity to match any other offers for setting up the US power system,” Chad said. “That's about as preferential as I can politically be. In addition,” he scratched out the number that David had written and wrote a significantly smaller amount under it, before pushing it across the table.
“I don't know,” David hedged. “That plant's not going to build itself.”
“Oh, come off it, Hewlett,” Joe snorted. “It's a damn fair offer.”
“Do you mind? I'm negotiating here!”
“Give up. You know you're going to take it, so skip the bullshit. It's more than you thought we'd get.” Joe smiled at Chad. Despite the good old boy act, Chad would bet that he could be as ruthless as David. “We've got a backup converter that we can have operational in a couple of days, so how about Friday for the shipment?”
Chad nodded. “If you'll get me your account number, I'll have the cash there by tomorrow at noon.”
“Perfect.” Joe glanced at the coffee and shrugged. “This calls for something else, I think—Damn, Rache, you're good,” he added as she came in with a bottle of champagne and four glasses.
Perhaps it was time to show some tact to the woman who could break him. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I'm sorry about earlier. They don't let me out often.”
Rachel deadpanned, “It shows.”
“It looks like I have off for the afternoon,” Chad ventured. “Any suggestions on things I might do to pass some time, rather than going back to the homestead?” He gave her his best sheepish smile. “I really haven't had a chance to come into town at all.”
She considered him for a moment before smiling. It's not as if she buys his pitch so much as she's amused by it. “I could show you around.”
David cleared his throat. “Just don't break him. He still has to wire the cash.”
Rachel eyed Chad in a way that unnerved him thoroughly. “No promises, boss.”
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Date: 2009-01-01 09:55 pm (UTC)