ᴡᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ᴡᴇ (plunder) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-06-05 22:40:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, killian jones (captain hook), rachel morgan |
Who: Killian Jones & Rachel Morgan
What: Rachel tracks down an old associate to ask for a job - and gets some info about the OC that she doesn't quite believe
When: Recently~
Where: JR Investigations
Rating/Warnings: Nothing scandalous!
Status: Complete
It was simple enough to hear when guests arrived; boards creaked underfoot when walking down the narrow dock. Literally, it was a jump to the side door as well (things had gotten lost sometimes in the drop - mobile phones often plunking into the depths, never to be found again) and that was noticeable. But there was really nothing like colourful homes, castles to some, rocking side to side all in bright rows - made especially more picturesque in the glow of the setting sun. This was Killian’s ‘office,’ after he’d moved into a house on actual land - but he couldn’t ask for a better workspace, really. He’d done a lot of refurbishing, and most everything was nautical the way he liked - rope, jute cushions, seagrass baskets, glass bottles, whitewashed furniture, driftwood and coral. The Captain thought all of it made for actual elegant alternatives to kitschy accessories that were everywhere, overflowing in touristy areas especially here like Newport Beach. The sun was setting so he had the antique lamp on his maritime desk switched on, and was continuing to diligently work - going through even more godawful phone records, and his eyes were starting to cross. But that’s when he heard it. Yes, it, the sound of someone approaching the door. He’d heard the jump from the dock, so he went to go investigate. Of course, when he did open the door, he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But he’d know that head of brilliant red hair - the same shade of poppies - anywhere, wouldn’t he? “Oh, bloody hell.” --- Rachel quirked her lips at Killian’s surprise. It had been a while since the case they worked on but obviously he still remembered her. Okay, so she had been a tad impatient. And she’d really wanted to knock some skulls together to get answers. But she didn’t, and they’d been successful with the case. It was one of the very few more interesting ones she’d been assigned and she’d been proud of their success! “What, no ‘Hi Rachel’?” she said wryly, forcing down her immediate reaction to cross her arms. She was here to ask for a job - coming off aggressive right off the bat probably wasn’t a good idea. Then again, her knee-high leather boots and black leather pants didn’t paint the picture of perfect innocence either. If she’d known she was going to have to jump to get onto the boat she might have worn something other than the heels - but how was she to know? “Your ‘office’ looks nice, somehow it fits you. The jump to get on here is an especially nice deterrent to sales people.” She hated sales people. “Can I come in?” __ “Aye, ‘course you can,” Killian chuckled, stepping back to let his guest inside. Unexpected, certainly, but not unwelcome. Leather boots, and ones that climbed skyward - those were a nice touch. The heel on them could likely double as a murder weapon as well - he was impressed Rachel made the trek up to the houseboat door with them on. And she was right, a houseboat sort of did deter salespeople. Or Mormons, or environmentalists - then again, Killian’s rather surly demeanour sort of did the job for him in that regard as well. Showing her to the living room, he motioned for her to take a seat anywhere - he hadn’t changed much since they last saw each other (same black hair, rugged facial scruff, sharp and vividly cobalt eyes) save for where he was now lacking a hand. Yes, the left was no longer flesh and blood but a prosthetic instead - and a rather advanced one at that, very mechanical-looking. “It’s been a few years, love. You’ll have to catch me up on everything, like when you moved to the area and where you’re staying.” Poseidon’s salty left nut, she was going to be in for a treat. Explaining this metaphysical hellhole was always fun too. “Can I get you a drink first or anything?” he asked, ever the proper host. Good form and order. --- Studying the living room from the chair she sat in, Rachel turned her attention back to Kilian. “Water would be great, thank you.” She’d forgotten that about Killian, that he played a good host. Her gaze darted down to his hand again - or rather, his missing hand. When had that happened? He looked the same as she remembered otherwise, down to how he dressed. “You’ll have to catch me up too - when did you decide to take on a houseboat instead?” She wasn’t going to ask about his hand. She really wasn’t going to ask. A second went by. “And your hand. What happened?” Okay, she did ask. It just kind of blurted out without meaning to. Nice going, Rachel. But it was so obvious! Sure, the prosthetic was pretty advanced-looking, but it was still mechanical instead of skin and bones. “I’m sorry, that was rude. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” Although she was curious, and if he didn’t answer now she would just dig around later. It was what made her a good investigator - she didn’t let things go until she got an answer. Usually. Shifting in embarrassment in her seat, she just hoped she hadn’t already offended him. That would go over well - coming here to ask for a job and offending Killian instead. --- So many questions! Honestly though, Killian had heard worse. Asking him how he yanked his crank with only one hand might be considered rude - but asking how it happened? Hardly. The only problem was, figuring out how to bloody well explain it without sounding completely bonkers could be something of a challenge. He’d manage, though. Ever the charmer, this one. At least the inquiry about the houseboat was easier to answer. “Well, I came over here on assignment,” he started, putting on a fresh pot of coffee for himself and giving Rachel her bottle of water. “Was tracking down long-lost family members for the woman who is now my fiancee.” He flashed a crooked grin then; it even reached the deep blue sea of his eyes. “I meant to just give her the info, collect my pay, and leave - so a houseboat suited for a time. But I ended up staying. This place sucks you in, shall we say.” There was a pull to Orange County, an illusive sort of thing - no matter what godawful crap you went through, you tended to stay. Some didn’t. But most who dreamed, they acclimated. They built their lives around the nonsense. “As for the hand, my dear - “ He poured himself a cup of black road tar, debating whether or not he wanted to add whiskey to it. Oh, what the hell, of course he did. “It depends how open-minded you’re willing to be. I could tell you I lost it in a fishing accident and leave it at that, if you’d rather.” __ Rachel took the bottle of water from him with a silent thanks, listening to him talk. He was engaged? Rachel smiled wide at that, an honest grin. That was excellent news! She might have crappy choice in men but hearing others find their love made her happy. His story of how they met didn’t surprise her in the least bit - if anything it was sweet. Finding love on the job; if only she was that lucky. “Good for you Killian. I’m glad to hear you met your match,” she said, still smiling. “And now you have me even more interested in what happened to your hand. I’m open-minded as long as you don’t tell me you joined a gang.” His looks would certainly fit in with one. Or maybe a pirate crew. She couldn’t really think of anything else so far out there that he would mention being open-minded. At least he wasn’t offended about her question. Eyeing his coffee, Rachel debated on asking for a cup as well. It smelled bitterly strong but coffee was everything. She didn’t do life without coffee. For now she settled on uncapping the bottle of water and taking a deep swallow. She hadn’t realized she’d been that thirsty until the first sip. “I’m gathering you did not lose it in a fishing accident,” she added dryly. --- A steady supply of coffee was most certainly necessary in this line of work. Sometimes he worked ten, eleven, twelve hours a day, immersed in his cases - and the only thing that got him through was a proper jolt of caffeine. Naturally, he’d share. But for the moment, he settled on the sofa and got comfortable to begin this rather wacky tale. “Thanks, love. Met my match indeed,” he stated fondly. “We’ve a daughter too, she’s about nine months old. But anyway - “ The Captain sipped his coffee; saying that he dreamed of being Hook and his fiancee dreamed of being The Evil Queen, which made them a dark, decadent, villainous match in hell was not the best way to begin. “The longer you stay, the more you’ll see Orange County is rather different. When you get a chance look up something called the multiverse theory - it’s honestly the best explanation I can think of. But some people who live here, they begin to...dream. It’s a thing that affects only some, and the dreams feel more like memories - it’s really a glimpse into another life, another version of yourself since, according to the theory, multiple versions exist.” He unfortunately couldn’t explain how or why, but those were the bare bones of the facts. “The hand came about because I dreamed of losing one - and it carried over.” Now she saw why open mindedness was required, yes? -- What? Rachel stared at Killian, unable to hide the disbelief. Congratulations about his daughter forgotten, she just stared. She didn’t even know what to say, aside from was he crazy? What kind of drugs was he on? Whatever it was had to be good, because that was the only explanation she had. Keep an open mind indeed. He was crazy! Even as she stared, speechless, the memory of her dreams the past few nights intruded. They felt so realistic, so lifelike. Exactly as if they were memories and not dreams - except that she wasn’t a witch and vampires, leprechauns, and pixies didn’t exist. She could even recite the entire dream right now out loud, that was how well she remembered it. Too much stress lately, and her mind had decided to take her wanting out of her current job and turn that into a fantasy dream. “You lost your hand because you dreamt it?” Rachel repeated, making sure she’d heard right. Great, was her first choice of a new job lost before it even became a chance because he was crazy or on drugs or both? “I know what the multiverse theory is; it’s in every DC Comic and Marvel universe. Do you know how crazy that sounds?” Okay, that might have been rude - but she was still in disbelief. She believed in ghosts, an afterlife, and that there might be some people in the world who weren’t complete quacks when it came to empaths or being able to sense ghosts. Not in multiverses and dreaming things real. --- "Oh, trust me, I'm aware how crazy it sounds," Killian replied. He wasn't offended - after all, he'd once thought the same thing. Most everyone did at first, that wasn't anything new. It took some time for it all to sink in, to become relevant and very real. "Take it with a grain of salt if you wish, but if you start having odd dreams? There's a network called Valar - those on the forum tend to also have their own dreams. It's a place to discuss them, among other things." Granted, some used the site to find dates or even 'hookups' (he'd been guilty of it too, but that seemed like so long ago). Still, it was a valuable resource when you could wade through all the excrement. And he’d be glad to listen, too. As someone who had been through the gamut when it came to dreaming (he’d literally died and then came back), he was also useful to have around. A valuable resource. At least in his view. Casual and nonchalant, he shifted on the couch and offered an inquisitive gaze, a quirk of one black brow. "But back to you - what brings you here anyway? Surely you tracked down my houseboat for a reason, besides to lay eyes upon my rugged good looks once more." -- Rachel laughed a little, an agreement that she did have an ultimate reason for coming. It faded fast though and for a moment she didn’t say anything. How could Killian be so nonchalant? She was still having trouble processing the fact that he actually believed what he was saying. It was clear as day in his demeanor that he truly believed what he was saying was true. In the back of her mind the memory of her own strange dreams intruded, but she ignored it. Dreams were funny things when they picked up on the daily stresses of life. Either she dropped the subject or she left because she didn’t want to deal with crazy, those were her two options. She liked working with Killian, it was why this was her first choice. So she settled back into the chair, willing to let it slide for now. “Not that it isn’t… interesting… to catch up, and congratulations on your daughter,” she added with another true smile. Good for him, a fiancée and a daughter. The urge to settle down, have a baby, and start a family hadn’t yet formed in her, but she wasn’t even 30 yet. “You’re right though, I didn’t come just to catch up.” Crap, this was the part she was nervous about. Sipping on her water, she plowed right on ahead. “Are you hiring? I’m in the market for a new job. Even after a few years I’m still handling the baby assignments, and do you know how boring cheating partners gets?” A whine crept into her tone and she blushed, embarrassed. “Not that it isn’t a good job, but I want to do more with my life than spying for suspicious and jealous partners.” --- He had to laugh a little, fondly, because yes. Killian was quite aware how tedious ‘I think my lover is cheating’ cases tended to be. He’d certainly done more than a few in his day - but in this area, finding lost family members seemed to be a specialty. He’d always done murder-for-hire a couple of times but those were extreme circumstances and for close friends he felt he could trust. Overall though, he was a universal kind of fellow when it came to selecting his cases. If it brought him a paycheque, likely he would do it. Of course, now after obtaining his official PI licence and having his sister help him out, he could afford to be a little choosier about work. Hiring a cohort, of sorts, was a sign that business was booming. “Come to think of it, I have been feeling somewhat overwhelmed in terms of caseload,” he said. “I think we can try it out for a bit and see how you like it - after all, what are old friends for?” Setting down his coffee mug, he went to retrieve a stack of folders and then returned with them, handing them over. “Got a bit more than the standard cheating spouse case, I assure you,” he noted. “Let’s see...there’s a missing person case there, maybe two. Background checks, corporate matters - “ Spying for big businesses, mainly, “...Insurance and fraud. Take your pick. Anything strike your fancy?” he wanted to know. -- Rachel couldn’t contain her excitement and relief that this might actually be a possibility, and she grinned. Okay, maybe she could ignore his crazy talk as long as it didn’t bleed into the job. She’d researched his business before coming here and he did a good turnover. People recommended him. He couldn’t be that good if he let his… drugs? Mental illness? Whatever it was, affect his business. Right? Setting her water on a table beside her, the files followed a moment later. She kept the top-most folder in her lap, already opening it to an organized system of information. “Missing persons is what got me interested in the investigative business,” she murmured, mind occupied with flipping through the first folder. Background checks, nothing interesting. “I wanted to do more than my dad could, tied as he was with red tape in the police department.” Closing the first folder and setting it down on a different table, she picked up the next. Again it was a background check, and she set it down on the read pile after no more than a quick thumb-through. The third folder was more intriguing – insurance fraud. That one she spent more time on, getting a gist of the case at a glance. It too went into the read pile soon though. The fourth folder, when she opened it, was the one she was hoping to find. The missing persons file. Staring at the picture paper-clipped at the front, she left it open on her lap and looked back over at Killian. “Background checks, fraud, surveillance, corporate intrigue… they’re the usual things, sure. Definitely more intriguing than spurned lovers.” Minus the background checks, maybe. “Corporate fraud is an interesting subject, especially when it’s catching one of them in the wrong. Finding missing people though? That gives a good feeling that I love. Any leads on this one?” --- “That one, I’ve got feelers out with various associates in neighbouring cities,” Killian replied, briefly sitting on the armrest of where she was sitting so he could glance at the file in question. “But if that’s where you’d like to start, I’ll catch you up on what I’ve done so far - put you in contact with my associates - and you can take over from there.” Of course he trusted Rachel to not completely cock up a case - she was a very competent PI, he’d known that from the past instances where they had the opportunity to interact. He had a few meatier cases too, naturally - but best to not involve the girl in murder, hacking, or illegal trespassing quite yet. Killian just wasn’t sure where she fell on the moral spectrum, you see. His own morals? Awashed in grey. It wasn’t like that for everyone - he did the nitty gritty jobs, the dirty ones, as often as he did the more glamourous ones. “And if you stay on board, I promise it’ll get even more interesting,” he baited, with a devil-may-care sort of grin. Living in the OC? Right, she’d see just how interesting it could truly be. “My sister Kenzi helps out too - you’ll see her around the houseboat most days. We tend to do 9-5, but sometimes our caseload has us coming in earlier or staying later. Profit depends on complexity of the case, obviously. If you need to cut anyone else in, say, a computer expert - that can be worked out too.” All things considered, Killian would be easy to work for. The Captain liked what he did - and he never failed either. -- Rachel couldn’t help but grin, excited. That he trusted her enough to let her start out on the missing girl gave her a confidence boost too. She wouldn’t screw it up; not a chance. She might be impatient but she was also good at what she did. Thankfully now that they had left the strangeness of his dreaming behind he seemed utterly normal and not insane, lending to her hope that his drug use or insanity hadn’t affected his investigative abilities. “That seems fair, both profit and hours. I know better than to expect a steady 9-5 schedule, though it plays havoc with planning sometimes,” she added with a wry chuckle. Surveillance especially was a kicker – you worked when your target was available, not when it was convenient to you. “I didn’t know you had a sister; keeping business in the family must be nice.” Usually family was more trustworthy than complete strangers. Usually being the key word. A thought occurred to her. “How do you handle health insurance? If you use one of the market plans and not employer-based, do you have recommendations?” Thankfully she didn’t get sick much at all, but it was still good to know. Right now her plan sucked dishwater, but she hadn’t needed to use it but for a single doctor visit last year. “And, ah, I’ll need a week to get things in order at my current job.” Even if things didn’t turn out well working for Killian, she was done with her job. There were other places she could turn to down the road. It was probably a good idea to at least give a few days warning on quitting though; she didn’t want to burn that bridge. Even if her boss was a pain in the ass who didn’t think she could do more. --- “I didn’t know I had a sister either, until she appeared on my doorstep - long story,” Killian shrugged. It was simply a testament to how much he didn’t communicate with his father while growing up - as soon as he could, he’d left home. He had no idea what Brennan was up to. “But at any rate, I’ll send you a few health plan recommendations.” This was a little family-run business, basically, and only recently had Killian even acquired health insurance at all. But he was certain he could recommend something decent for Rachel, and she’d be able to cover the costs in a way that wouldn’t mean she’d need to shit gold to afford it. Still, sometimes the whole health insurance situation in this country just boggled him. Why was it not universal? Anyway. “Take a week or so, love,” Killian toasted her with his coffee cup. “I’ll be here, and ready to welcome you on board when you’re set.” -- Picking up her water – carefully, making sure not to drop the file that was on her lap – Rachel toasted Killian back. “I’m looking forward to this. Dear god, to not be stuck with suspicious, jealous clients…” She trailed off, wincing as she realized how that sounded. “Anyway. Thank you Killian, this is a welcome opportunity.” And a huge relief for sure. Closing the case folder on her lap, she placed it on top of the other files. The rest of her water was drained almost in an instant, and then Rachel stood up. “You’ll have to introduce me to your fiancée and daughter sometime, I would love to meet them,” she said, smiling. She might not have a single motherly instinct in her yet, but she still liked seeing babies. She just didn’t want one herself. “If you’ll excuse me though, I have a lot to do today.” Namely turning in her resignation, which was already typed up and just waiting to be printed. She was that ready. Digging through her purse, she fished out her wallet and a pen before pulling a card from the wallet. Her phone number went on the back of the card before she handed it to Killian. “My phone number, so that we can coordinate.” --- He took the card, flipping it between the fingers of his good hand, and pocketed it in an instant. Then he gave her one of his - mobile number and email, plus if she ever ended up on Valarnet (gods, what a shitshow) then she could message him privately there as well. “‘Course, love,” Killian promised, getting the door for her after walking her there to see Rachel out like the gentleman he was - sometimes. “We have mates over for dinner all the time, Regina’s an excellent cook. I’m not so bad myself. But point is, we’ll host you and you can meet everyone.” Fiancee, daughter, sister - all included in the Royal Pirate family package. It was nice to run into an old friend again - not to mention this would take off some of the job burdens on his end too. And, well, don’t tell anyone - he’d relish actually in spending the extra time with his daughter. A bit of a softie for her, this pirate was, but that was a well-kept secret. |