Who: Killian & Kenzi, with Galina Malikov What: Galina's bullshit is uncovered by Killian, and Kenzi throws her out When: Today Where: JR Investigations Rating/Warnings: Language, references to past child abuse Status: Complete!
The sea breathed in, she breathed out, ever poignant and salty. It was like a lullaby to Killian, as he sat at his nautical desk on board the houseboat (now the centre of the family-run PI business) and attempted to do some catching up on his caseload. The place had been renovated nicely to be both a space for work and a sailor’s dream in here, with the various shades of navy and the wall mountings like maps he’d made himself, framed, and a vintage wooden ship’s wheel. The desk itself had side supports that looked like small ladders - really, they could be used to mount a navigator’s bunk or even to mount a camel. Multi-functional and multi-purposed, that was typically furniture on a ship anyway; it had to be taken apart at any moment’s notice. He’d been so pleased when he came across this gem at someone’s rubbish sale. One’s man rubbish was another pirate’s treasure, anyway.
He didn’t have a tonne of cases now, since the rather large one he’d completed for Emma had set him up with cushy funds - he’d been able to take something of a break and spend more time with Meara while Regina worked during the day, and that was pleasant. There was also this little matter of looking into Galina, who just magically showed up here wanting to make amends with the daughter she didn’t seem to give a fuck about unless it involved squeezing money out of her in some way.
Galina didn’t give a fuck about anyone unless it involved money - he knew that much, even if he’d rather eat toenail clippings or drink a sparkling latte than get close to the hag.
But he promised Kenzi he could manage civility, and he’d stuck true to his word. Killian didn’t want to cause problems for her and her alone - he couldn’t care less about her mum. Besides, talking with Galina proved to be interesting. That, along with him being in touch with some associates up north, also proved that she was full of shit (as he predicted all along). It was a story for another time, however.
“Poseidon’s salty nuts, I need a coffee break,” he announced, shutting his laptop and rubbing his hand over his eyes. “I’ll double what you’re usually paid if you go through these phone records for me.” Speaking to his dear sister, of course.
No one knew Galina like her own daughter. No one also hoped she’d grow a set of Common Sense Balls like her own daughter, either - and that was Kenzi’s blind spot, wasn’t it. All the hope and love she had for her mother that wasn’t completely soured by what went on between them and while the whole situation was met with skepticism, it didn’t take a therapist to figure out that the she wanted to believe her. Wanted a mother that’d pick her instead of an abusive shitstain that locked her in a closet once for laughing too loud once, or put his hand where it definitely shouldn’t be on someone barely into her adolescence.
So for her to come all the way out here (with Dima, but then again she needed someone to keep an eye on her) actively seeking to have a relationship wasn’t something she ever thought would happen - ever. Especially with the news that she had kicked Bodgen to the curb. And so for for the last couple weeks it had actually been okay between them, and she was happy about it.
Also super happy that Killian didn’t seem so hostile towards the idea of her being around. But then again, she knew her brother, and he was probably waiting for the bomb to drop - or making sure there wasn’t one that would go off, anyway.
“Gross,” sighed the mini-pirate, sifting through some invoices without interest - she had to make sure bitches paid what they owed. “Bubba, you know I like to do the least amount of work possible, ever. You’ll have to sweeten the deal.”
Oh, indeed, making sure bitches paid what they were owed was an important part of this job - now that Killian was legitimate, shall we say, everything was a lot more ‘by the books’ when it came to taking on cases and working through them. Which also meant more ‘official’ paperwork, and the unsavoury sorts didn’t usually deal with a trail or want to go through a licensed PI at all. So, yes, bitches did pay what they were owed.
But then sometimes he did unsavoury jobs for unsavoury people, it was just who he was - thing about being a pirate was that it never left you, you always were one to some degree because that way of life was firmly ingrained. So occasionally he had to issue gentle reminders that he was owed money. Meaning this was usually a baseball bat to the skull. Killian had a family to help support, he wasn’t about to be shafted.
Anyway, there were phone records to peruse through still. Sigh. “I’ll take you to that bakery for unicorn poop biscuits?” he suggested, heading into the kitchen to pour them cups of morning fuel - well, morning, afternoon, evening, it worked all times of day. “Or...unicorn farts. I think that’s what the woman was talking about. They’re basically coloured meringue things.”
Whaaaaaat.
Kenzi snapped shut her laptop because toss in the word ‘unicorn’ and her attention was grabbed, officially - and for someone who dressed like she was in a cult of gothic fashionistas she just had a thing for colorful, flamboyant things on the side. Glitter, rainbows.
Unicorns.
“Speak to me more of those biscuits and or farts,” she insisted, fishnet-gloved hands clasped excitedly. “Broseph, what kind of people do you speak to that make these kinds of things and why aren’t I friends with -”
Rude. The doorbell rang through the houseboat and with a dramatic flair, Kenzi sighed again and forced herself from the comfort of her chair. Make her get up, people, why don’t you. “I got it, I got it. Bet’cha it’s someone who's trying to figure out if their husband’s cheating again.”
Though to be honest she didn’t mind those hysterically juicy affair cases at all. It was like watching an episode of Jerry Springer upclose. But the people at the door weren’t paying clients but people they knew, or at least people she had blood ties with. At the door was an older woman, tinted blonde hair with not a lot of height. Looking at the two of them they shared very little family resemblance; looks like Kenzi’s dominant genes all came from the Jones side of the family (thank fuuuuuuuck), and her mother’s face lit up, albeit with a nervous smile.
Um. “Hi, mom, we’re not supposed to meet until later?” What the shit, did she really have to come by? The air was always so thick when she and Killian were in close vicinity. It made her not want to ever have them near one another, ever.
Great, wonderful. Killian couldn’t tell whether this was going to be good or a complete disaster - perhaps the second, at least for Galina, but good for him. Because he had some news to share, some info he’d dug up about old bones buried in the dirt - skeletons Galina tried to hide, for the sake of...something. Obtaining money, he would guess? She hadn’t asked yet, she seemed to be buttering her daughter up, but maybe the big question was why she’d popped by for this visit. He’d have to see. The time for dropping the bomb had to be perfect, after all.
He rolled his eyes with his back turned, while Kenzi was greeting her mum, and stepped out to lean against the doorway of the small kitchen and give a little wave - a wiggle with his fingers. “Oh, it’s alright, we were just taking a break from work anyway,” he shared, fighting the urge to not grind his teeth into dust. Out of sheer annoyance. “Come inside. Would you like a coffee, Galina?”
Spiked with a chocolate laxative, perhaps? Or something harder - antifreeze? Now that would be nice.
For a split second Galina’s face was that of surprise, but the smile that came after was a pleasant one - and she had come inside despite the look of dread (she’d go for the antifreeze in the coffee now, thanks) her daughter had. “Da, yes,” she answered, the accent thick, and she had been doing a surprisingly good job with the humble front. “That would be -”
“Unnecessary?” Kenzi’s lips pursed. “Mom, I told you about about me being at work and that we were going to me laterrrr…”
“I know, I know,” she sighed, reaching up to squeeze her little girl’s cheeks and appointing a kiss on each one. “I needed to see you and I would be rude to decline your brother - oh, you two look so much alike. He is much more handsome than your father.”
Errrrr. “And sober, probably.”
“Much, much better smelling too.”
“And again, sober…”
Well, alright, because that wasn’t utterly weird or anything. Killian lifted an eyebrow - one of those eyebrows, that could arch and wiggle in ways that firmly solidified his status as a true charmer, perhaps a true villain. Right now he was merely amused. “Aye, much more sober - the better smell is likely because I don’t sweat whiskey from my pores,” he winked.
Or wasn’t passed out in clothes he’d been in for the past three days, during a booze bender. After being dropped off back at home by concerned neighbours or the police. Brennan had a habit of doing just that. Details.
Popping back into the kitchen, he fixed Kenzi’s mum her coffee - and to his credit, he didn’t put anything in the mug besides coffee. “There’s cream and sugar if you need,” he added, heading back into the living room where they could sit. Once he set down the mug, he cleared off some paperwork and folders for more space. “So, what brings you ‘round?”
There was also the fact she highly, highly doubted Galina could even remember Brennan’s face with how reportedly sloshed she was - really, Kenzi had heard the shameless tale of how her mother slept with a broke drunkard in Europe far too many times and it was a miracle she’d even known who her father was. But the proof was in the siblings now, she and Killian. That striking resemblance that couldn’t be denied. They were definitely related.
“I enjoy my coffee the way I enjoy my alcohol,” replied the Malikov matriarch with an impish twinkle in her blue eyes - they were deeper than Kenzi’s, oceanic rather than staring into glaciers. “Straight, so thank you very much.”
Speaking of alcohol, welp. Sharkbait here needed that in her coffee. Did they have any here? There was some rummaging in the cupboards before she realized this was barren land, and begrudgingly poured herself a sober cup of coffee. “Is it the motel or something?”
Galina shook her head, now visibly ashamed. Almost? A little irritated, too, with the way she exhaled a tired sigh. “Yes and no. Bodgen, he - he closed the accounts. I cannot access anything, that ublyudok. I have nothing aside from what your cousin is helping me with, but he will not stay here much longer. And I want to stay here. With you.”
Those were words she didn’t think she’d ever hear, either. Lately her mother was full of surprises, and she turned to face her with a wide-eyed blink. “Wait, really? He’s not going to try and track you down, is he?”
And here we go. Killian feigned surprise, with some sympathy mixed in there (ha), but he had a feeling he knew where this was headed - damn the bastard, he closed Galina’s bank accounts and now she needed just a little bit of cash to get herself settled here in her new home, in Orange County, with her daughter who loved her.
What a bunch of bollocks. Galina was obviously lying about what the big hairy Russian did to her; she didn’t plan to stay five minutes after her pockets were lined - and that made Killian angry.
Woe is her, woeeeee is her. He sipped his coffee nonchalantly, still leaning against the kitchen doorframe, a long and leonine form quietly judging. “How much do you need?” he wanted to know. Yes, put a price tag on it, Galina. How much did you plan to screw your daughter over? “And where will you stay?”
The cost of living was a bit high in this area, you know. The ratty motel was always an option though. Or perhaps a crack den somewhere.
Did this coffee have antifreeze? Kenzi felt nauseous. Nerves, probably. The news should have elated her - and it did, in a way - but that seed of caution and mistrust had been planted very young. It didn’t help that she sensed Killian drilling into Galina, either.
Part of her was glad that he was. Don’t screw this up, mom. Don’t.
Mrs. Malikov sipped from her cup, and the taste was bitter and robust but it didn’t seem to displease her. “Dima and I searched and there are apartments not very far at all,” she said, the accent making her sound so nasally. “This area is very….expensive, but it is close to you. I would like to be close. Dima can help me get furniture, but moving in, it is very…”
“Uh, yeah, California’s not cheap,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Kenzi almost didn’t want to hear the number. “I have some money set aside - I can help with the deposit.”
“There is furniture, and the rent,” Galina went on. She looked oh so distressed. “I will pay you back when I find employment, da? I want a room for you too. Oh, and we could all be together, like a family.” Furniture, deposit, rent until she could get her ‘footing’ if it ever came. There wasn’t a number that was succinctly expressed but it was well over a grand. A couple, even, in the scheme of things.
The trick wasn’t to ask for a certain amount. It was to express the necessities, put on a face, and tug on the heart of someone who loved them - they would always be more than generous. And if it wasn’t enough, well. There were always ways to act pitiful to get the rest of the zeros added.
Not going to happen. Kenzi would not give this sorry slag even a fucking dime, and Killian would see to it. Right now, in fact.
“Wait, I’m a bit confused,” he started off. “You say you left the codswallop you were married to and are desperate for money - but that doesn’t explain why Bogden’s still at your place. Though I did hear something about...funds he can’t pay back. This is why messing with loan sharks tends to be a bad idea, you know. Especially that Dragmire fellow.” Who in the criminal underworld hadn’t heard of him? Come now, Galina. “He ought to have considered other financing options.”
So yes, basically, Galina was planning to swindle her daughter out of a few thousand dollars and then take off just so her pitiful husband wouldn’t get his legs cut off at the knees. Priorities were wonderful, when it came to her. And Killian watched, waiting for a response - with eyes that were electric, what with how blue they were. The kind of electricity that crawled right under your muscles. The kind that paralysed you.
That flipped the switch in moods, definitely - and as Galina opened her mouth, Kenzi beat her to the punch. “Oh, c’mon, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she hissed, slamming the mug onto the surface so hard it cracked the bottom and spilt coffee over the rim. “Being with him is going to get you killed, mom, you can’t just keep doing this kind of shit for him!”
Yes, she had the right to be ticked off about getting conned (well, again, that’s how Kenzi herself learned some tools of the trade for her own survival - mummy dearest) but that’d been the least of her concern, because that flaming pile of trash still had his clutches onto her and she was so blind, so stupid, to see.
“He is not a bad man,” was her insistence after her tense jaw relaxed, but the words were forced through grit teeth. Killian had done his research across the border, it seemed, and there was no budging her daughter’s trust into her half-brother. “He took care of me, and you, and put a roof over our heads and kept us fed and you almost ran him off with over overactive imagination.”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Overactive -” What. What. ‘Overactive imagination’ had nothing to do with what he’d done to her and what her mother had chosen to willfully ignore. Nor did he have the right to do anything to her just because he ‘took care’ of them. “I went homeless because of him, and you -”
“That was your choice.”
“And you chose him over me and left me on the street,” Kenzi snapped icily. It was a miracle she hadn’t lost all of her shit yet when all she saw was red, and with those impressively thick-heeled boots she grabbed her mother by the arm so hard Galina yelped.
Okay, maybe some shit was lost.
Galina struggled, even tried to give her a smack with her free hand but nah, don’t fuck with a pirate’s sister. That wrist had been grabbed too and twisted painfully. “I was a little girl, mom, but I guess me being touched by a thug with a hairy beer belly was a small price to pay to make sure you were taken care of - and you get what you paid for. Let him take care of you.”
Kenzi was officially done.
“Hey, Bubba?” Such an endearing nickname for her older brother during tense times, but her eyes didn’t leave her mother’s - they were cold, and her stare cut like glass shards. “Can you open the door?”
They had to remove someone off property and she was still debating it she wanted to toss her overboard or not.
Killian didn’t stop her, not a bit, not throughout Kenzi’s tirade - which was well deserved, in his opinion. And obviously something she needed to get out. He simply observed, though admittedly he felt a sadness for his sister - this was her officially saying fuck off to her mum, which was not a particularly easy thing to do. She’d wanted so badly to make things work and now...
Well. Galina was about to get literally thrown out on her money-grubbing bum. It was her own fault, however, all of it. Trying to say that Kenzi’s stepfather provided for them (had he really?) and thus had a right to abuse a little girl was so incredibly awful that he had no words for once. Good thing Kenzi had that handled anyway - her brother would handle the door.
“Sure, Sharkbait,” and he moved to do as she requested, opening the front door of the houseboat and standing against it to leave lots of room for an actual tossing.
Kenzi’s figure was that of a ballerina - like a fragile bird, small boned and with a little height, but she had some strength that’d been tapped into when it came to practically throwing another human being out the door with little mercy. Galina’s impact on the floor was far from pleasant (something cracked, whether it be her or part of the wood) and she hadn’t wasted a breath on her after.
There were no ‘goodbyes.’ That was obvious already. Kenzi made sure the door slammed shut afterwards. If her mother was smart, she’d leave. Quietly.
Which seemed to be the case, anyway, since there weren’t frantic cries of forgiveness or grovelling. For extra measure she locked the door, deadbolt too. “Don’t do the ‘I told you so’ dance,” she whispered and turned to lean against it. Extra barricade too? “I took a chance. It was a bad chance, but I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I didn’t.”
“You know me better than that,” Killian scoffed - and truly, he wasn’t planning to say words like ‘I told you so.’ Because, well...when you were as right as he had been, there’s no need to say it. Ahem.
But he doubted Kenzi wanted to hear such things anyway, so he’d settle for other forms of comfort instead. “Come here, silly sister,” and he reached out to pull her away from the door and draw her into his arms for a hug. If Galina tried to back indoors, then he really would stab her. However, he doubted she would - sounded like she’d crunched something when she hit the ground, better get that taken care of.
“I’m sorry,” Killian apologised - not like he’d done anything, rather, he was just sorry everything ended up like this. “If it helps, I love you. Regina and Meara do too. Liam loves you.” They knew it for sure, it’d come straight from his mouth during a certain OC Christmas miracle.
Nope, so did not want to hear it - she had put on her big girl thong and made her decisions like the adult she was (believe it or not). But it was so goddamn hard to watch someone you love (against better judgment) spiral down in a relationship so unhealthy that she knew was potentially deadly. It was a slippery slope for Galina, and the last thing Kenzi wanted was a phone call from a cousin saying her stepfather had her killed.
Yet if her mother didn’t want the help, then there was literally nothing she could do. How else was she supposed to show that the man sticking it to her was a shit stain on the face of the Earth?
“I knoooow you do,” she smiled, shakily, and went to hug him so tight his head might pop or something - because in the scheme of things she was lucky to at least have some family. If it hadn’t been for him she almost would have resigned herself as an orphan with the rate it had all been going. “I lurve you too, Bubba, and I’m happy you guys don’t suck but - you know, it’s mom.” Whether she liked it or not that familial tie was there with all those feelings she wished she didn’t have. Otherwise shoving her out the door would have been much, much easier. “There were times she wasn’t crap, and I wish she’d have more moments like that.”
Bummer. Guess that was asking a lot.
“I understand more than you think, trust me.” There had been a few decent times with Brennan too, a snapshot or three where he and his sons were an actual family. That’s why it made everything so fucking hard to let go of. “I saw it with Regina as well - Cora literally made her life hell and it was still sad for her to lose her mum. Eventually in the dreams she came around, and found peace, but I don't know,” he shrugged. “Maybe Galina will come to her senses too. But she’s supposed to be the parent, not you. And you’ve done all you can do at this point.”
Killian wouldn't want Kenzi to keep climbing an uphill battle either. It was devastating to be passed over, time and time again, for some fat hairy mobster. That took its toll.
He gave her another squeeze, and kissed the top of her head, the wee pirate. “Guess this means I’ll have to get you a dog to cheer you up.”
Kinda scary how she had followed her mother’s footsteps once upon a time, too, with Massimo - the mommy-issues freak with a secret diaper fetish (it was unconfirmed but c’mon, all the signs were there), but Kenzi knew her mother had other options. It was all about making that choice, and she couldn’t cling to Galina when she was still in bed with him. No way in hell.
Good thing she had waterproof makeup, and really, she wasn’t crying. Her eyes swelled a bit but nothing some dotting with her fingertips couldn’t fix. “Save the puppy for baby Starfish,” she choked a giggle. “But hey, you know, at least for shit parents we came out kinda well-adjusted, right?”
They weren’t sterling examples of Make America Great citizens (although they had nicer teach, and smelled hella better) but hey, at least from their parents they knew all the things to not do to people. Especially to the little ones they’d be responsible for one day.
Gods, no, Killian wouldn’t get a puppy. He didn’t have time for that. “Well, you at least don’t want to visit a shelter with me and find an older dog?” he asked, using the edge of his thumb to dab at Kenzi’s eyes - below them, actually, and having them fill with water (allergies or something, right? Dust?) made them all the bluer. His were like that too. “I thought it might be nice to have a pet that doesn’t hiss at me.”
She could play with puppies at the shelter too - that was therapeutic for anyone, no matter who you were. Even grizzled, rugged pirates.
“I suppose we did come out alright though. Not without some slips and falls, of course.” But that was life, and you wouldn’t learn otherwise.
Hmmmmm. Her nose twitched, doing a last pitiful sniffle before she willed herself to get her shit together - she’d mope about her mother later. The puppy route, young and old, seemed like a legit distraction to focus on so kudos, Killy. “And now you obviously want to get a dog,” she grinned, tapping her chin in thought. “Hells yeah I’ll go with you. You should totally not tell Gigi, and I’ll make sure to get a picture of her face when you come home with it.”
Way more hilarious that way, and she didn’t think her evil highness would tell her fiance to bring it back. And doggies were so therapeutic that she wouldn’t ever deny taking a ride and rolling among them to endure their slobber and shedding over her gothic-inspired clothing.
Regina would make remarks about dog shit on her perfectly pristine lawn and some drooly beast slobbering all over the furniture, but she would secretly love that canine - Killian was sure of it. Besides, Henry would appreciate it too, when he visited. He had two dogs with his other parents but one more wouldn’t hurt, right?
“Aye, she’ll be so pleased,” the Captain chuckled. “We’ll go on the weekend, then. You feel alright to get back to work or do you want me to handle things? I’ll even go through the phone records, no worries.”
Kenzi sucked a sharp wind of air, hands on her hips to survey their working domain. Her first home here, with a fuckton of memories - like their Nightmare Before Christmas themed tree, all the grilled cheeses they’d made for dinner, all the petty arguments and makeups between them because siblings naturally argued, of course, but it’d brought them closer than ever.
It was family.
“Work’s good,” she promised, smiling a little. “Still want those unicorn secretions you promised, though - I’ll be racking up on it. I’m so gonna be milking the whole ‘waahhhh spoil me I had to kick mommy out’ thing.”
Because the best way to combat what happened was humor. As opposed to drinking it away or not speaking about it at all, but anyway, she reached up to give her broseph and a smooch on the cheek. “Thanks, Bubba.”