InsaneJournal

Who: Vicky and whoever wants the role of welcoming committee or elevator repair (wo)man.
What: Vicky moves in.
Where: The elevator after a narrative bit.
When: Late after noonish.
Warnings: Potty mouthery.
Notes: Narrative and then open!

Vicky's old crew was there to see her off. You wouldn't know it unless you were Family or a cop, but it was an impressive display of force and there wasn't even assault, robbery or mock execution involved. Not including Vicky, half of them were actually born Gabellos. There was her captain Little-Little Tony Gabello (to distinguish him from the two other more notable Tony Gabellos working other crews), Ray Gabello, Donnie Johnny Giovanni and a new guy, Mike Somethin'-or-other. Mike had a real last name but the reoccurring joke had been to call him Mr. Somethin'-or-other.

"Thank god you only live on the second floor, right? You couldn't pay me to lug this shit any higher." Mike also complained. It was why no one had bothered to call him by his real last name yet. Vicky had a bad feeling it wasn't going to end well for him. Mike was also the youngest in the crew at twenty-five and too impulsive to last long without making someone mad you didn't have to. Mike and Ray started up the stairs with her couch, one of the few pieces of furniture that did not match the red-black-white color scheme of her apartment.

"Compliments of divorcing a doctor, right?" Ray ribbed.

"My mother wishes I married a doctor," said Donnie Johnny Giovanni, who was never just Donnie or Johnny. You had to say the whole name or nothing at all.

"What, was she Jewish or something?" Mike cracked.

Vicky rolled her eyes in that mildly disapproving way she often did. She didn't run her mouth as often as the rest of her crew and that sometimes had an unsettling effect on the boys. They'd seen her fly off the handle on more than one occasion and no one wanted to accidentally end up on the other side of that. Even they couldn't entirely discount the rumors from the other crews.

"Oh fuck me, I forget we still have Miss Politically Correct for the next hour or so," Little-Little joked.

"Nah, don't worry about it Vicky. You'll be back with waste management in no time," said Mike. But Mike talked out of his ass. Constantly. The rest of the crew had been around long enough to know that whatever the Big Captains had in mind (not to be confused with the Big-Big Captains or the Fucking-Big Captains) she likely wasn't going back to her old crew. It happened. People moved up. People also moved to the bottom of the river, too.

"Just don't let them put you in the construction business," Ray advised, pretending that Vicky might actually have a say in the matter.

"Fuck the construction business," agreed Donnie Johnny Giovanni.

"You just call us if you need anything," Little-Little reassured.

"What the fuck is with all this red shit?" Donnie Johnny Giovanni teased. He and Little-Little carried a reupholstered vintage chair which was much heavier than it's smaller size had any right to be. "You putting on one of those Vagina Monologue productions or something?"

That one received a howl from the other boys, and Vicky even graciously wore a paper thin smile. It was the smile that made Donnie Johnny Giovanni more nervous and he immediately stopped laughing, despite Vicky actually appreciating the joke. She held a stack of three black wood drawers filled with her clothes. Four trips later and her crew had finished with the big stuff. After she directed them where to put everything and the crew had left, Vicky took the elevator, too tired for the stairs. The boys refused to take it when they were moving. It looked a bit too antique for their taste.

Instead of taking her down to the lobby, the elevator lurched up. Vicky frowned and pushed the button for the lobby once more, assuming that someone a few floors up must have hit a button. Vicky, impatient, pressed the Lobby button a few more times to remind it where it had better go once it finished picking up its other passenger.