Chapter Text
Sunday, October 10 (part 2)
You try to gather your thoughts as you pace into a quiet corner of the warehouse. Unfortunately, most of them have already scattered too far for you to catch, so you suck in a deep breath and hit dial before the rest have time to fly away.
He answers with a bored drawl on the third ring.
“This is Silco.”
“Hi Silco.”
The pause suggests he hadn’t realized it was you.
“Hold on a moment.”
You hear the groan of a chair, then a creaking door. It’s several long, tense seconds before he speaks again.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me that my daughter has suffered sufficiently at the hands of my lieutenant.”
“How did you…?”
“Jinx texted me.”
His voice gives away nothing about his mood.
You fiddle with your basket. “Things are definitely tense. Sevika looks like she's three seconds away from punching a wall.”
“Though I am sorry for whoever owns the wall, she and it will survive. She is being paid well to do the honors of watching my daughter today.”
Again, not a hint of emotion behind the words. Anxiety creeps in. There’s no way he’s going to agree to your proposal. In fact, the more you think about it, the more you realize that not only is he going to say no, but he won’t thank you for interfering.
Your stomach squirms. It would be interfering, wouldn’t it? You, trying to make things better for Jinx. Easier.
Holy cow, are you enabling her too?
“Was there any other reason you called?”
"Reason?"
Your mind races. You have so many reasons, but none of them are important. Except for one.
The actual reason you'd been wanting to call him all day.
Your hand tightens around the phone.
“Yeah. I um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About the things I said last night. You were right, I should have been more careful with Jinx. I guess I’m not – well, I don’t know what it takes to parent her. It’s always easier to judge from the outside. So I’m sorry. And I hope that you can forgive me.”
There’s no indication that he’s still on the line, other than the occasional hint of tinny background noise.
You forge on anyway, determined to finish what you wanted to say.
“And I don’t think you’re a bad father. In fact, I think you’re one of the better dad’s I’ve met. Definitely the most proactive. Most dads aren’t as involved or… or as supportive of their children as you are. I can say that because even though I love my dad he was kind of… not there, emotionally, for me and my sister for most of our childhood. And what I mean to say is that Jinx is very lucky to have you.”
Again, the silence. Your nerves are at their limit as you try to catch a hint of what’s going on at the other end of the line.
“Hello? Silco? You still there?”
He clears his throat. “Yes, I’m here. I was simply… thinking.”
You’ve never heard him sound like that before. Distracted, or possibly unsure of what to say. It’s almost as off-putting as watching him get angry.
Maybe it's time to say good-bye. You think wearily.
“Alright. Well, that's all I wanted to say so I should probably let you go now. I’m sure you're busy…”
“I have a few minutes to spare. I’m currently between meetings.”
“Oh, okay.”
Was that an invitation to stay on the line?
A bubble of hope swells in your chest.
“So, you’ve had a busy day? In meetings?”
A heavy sigh. “Yes. I am currently in negotiations with several companies over the distribution of Shimmer in their establishments.”
“That’s great news.”
“From a certain point of view, yes.”
“And from the other?”
“It means more wasted time for me. The representatives I’m working with appear to be unfamiliar with how to conduct themselves during a negotiation, and they’ve been dragging this along for weeks. I will not be sorry when the deal is concluded so I can move on to other projects.”
You're circling past the clearance section, where there are several rows of 70% off select paint brushes. You run your finger along the soft bristles.
“What kinds of projects?”
“I have renovations planned for one of the new buildings I’ve recently purchased along the waterfront. I’d also like to become more involved in a few of my other small businesses, which I fear I have neglected for far too long.”
Businesses like The Last Drip?
It wouldn’t be so bad having him around more often. In fact, it would be the opposite of bad. Though having him around would certainly be a distraction.
You pick a few brushes and settle them next to the pencils in your basket.
“Sounds like you like to stay busy.”
“I do.”
“Do you ever take vacations?”
“I occasionally take Sundays off.”
You laugh a little. “Seriously Silco, don’t you ever want to travel? To lay out on a beach in Costa Rica, or climb the mountains of Tibet or something?”
“Thanks to my military career I have seen much of the world. While the scenery may change, the people stay the same, and I have come to the conclusion that the majority of humanity is not worth knowing.”
“What about the minority?”
“They currently exist here, in Zaun, which is a place where I can exert the most influence. There are many who would like to keep this city as it is, hiding in the shadows, answering to far off bureaucrats who care nothing about the people who live under their influence." A sneer enters his voice. "This is why I work, to build this place into something greater, so that my people can have a place of their own to belong outside of the prejudices and artifices of the world.”
Your throat inexplicably tightens.
His people.
Passion creeps his voice when he speaks about Zaun.
It’s been your home for almost 29 years now, and though you’ve never been especially involved in politics you can remember your mom and dad talking about the changes that occurred in your city over the last six years. Most of them were radical, and hailed as unconventional, but they’d led to the lowest cost of living out of all the surrounding counties.
You'd never cared how or why that was the case, but now you can't help wondering how many of those changes were spearheaded by Silco.
“That sounds like a cause worth fighting for.”
“I believe it is. If you put your trust in the right people, you can accomplish anything. Which reminds me, have you finished taking all the courses I assigned to you last week?”
“Yeah. I um… I just need the authorization key so I can schedule the proctored exam.”
“Excellent. I will send it to you by the end of the day.”
“Thank you.”
He's just confirmed that you haven't been fired, which is good.
Whether you've been forgiven or not, however, is still to be determined.
One step at a time, right?
Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you see someone’s liked a message in The Last Drip’s group chat.
“Oh! Before I forget, the team decided that they wanted to decorate the shop on Tuesday after close, if that’s alright with you.”
“How late will you be working?”
“Probably till 9:30 or so.”
“I shall ensure that the alarm doesn’t interrupt your work.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
The awkward pause is back with a vengeance.
“I’m afraid it’s time for me to head back inside. The meeting’s about to start.”
“Oh, yeah, of course! Bye, Silco. I hope your negotiations will be... short.”
“As do I.”
You’re not sure exactly what you’re feeling when you hang up, and slowly wander back to the aisle where Sevika and Jinx are waiting. It’s somewhere between relief, and something else you can’t name. Something bright.
Silco never ceases to amaze you. Underneath that stoic mask there’s a heart burning for a cause. You hadn’t realized how much he cared for the city. For his people, as he’d called them.
Called us.
You’re not sure why, but you feel a faint sense of pride at being considered worthy to be a part of his endeavors. You’ve been asked to be a part of his cause, to create a place for people to thrive and belong. Being the manager of the Last Drip now feels like hallowed work. A new sense of purpose burns within you as you turn the corner to the spray paint aisle.
Two steps in you stop short with a blink.
You can’t quite reconcile the picture of your conservatively dressed mother, laughing and resting her hand on Sevika’s bare, tatted arm. Colorful Jinx is standing next to her, bouncing on her toes, apparently delighted at something she just said.
It just occurs to you that you never actually confirmed that Silco didn’t want you to interfere.
You step cautiously forward, worried you’re about to put a damper on this new, festive mood.
Your mom sees you first. “There you are darling!”
“Hey mom.”
As soon as you’re within reach, her arm snakes out to wrap around your waist. “Jinx was just telling me about how nervous she was about her upcoming show, so I told her about your first art fiasco.”
You groan while Sevika snickers.
You’d thought smuggling the kitten into the county fair was a brilliant idea. She would help ease your anxiety and draw people to your stall. After all, who didn’t melt over the sight of a tiny, ginger kitten? What you hadn’t taken into consideration was that there would be a dog show in the same conference room. All it took was one dog to catch Daisy’s scent, and there was absolute pandemonium.
“In my defense, those dogs were supposed to be well trained.”
“I think it was a brilliant idea!” Jinx says eagerly, turning to Sevika. “Do you think Silco would let me buy a kitten for my show?”
“He probably wouldn’t care if you bought a horse, so long as you plan to take care of it yourself. And don’t look at me for help. I’m done taking in your strays.”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t love Mr. Eddie.”
“I didn’t. I took the damn thing for job security. I wasn’t about to get saddled with the blame when a monitor lizard decided to eat you in your sleep.”
“Oh yeah? Well you cried when he died last year.”
“Hey, we both did.”
Jinx grins at Sevika, who actually returns it with a feral smile of her own.
You can’t hold back a strangled laugh at the confusion on your mother’s face. You forget that she’s never had any first hand experience with the eccentricities of the Spisak family.
“So, what are your ladies plans for the rest of the day?” Your mom asks.
“Well, guessing by the look on your daughter’s face the boss isn’t going to give me the day off…”
You nod, secretly relieved. Let her assume anything she likes. You’re just glad you don’t have to lie to her face.
“...so I guess after the kid finishes shopping we’ll head to the firing range. Last night taught me that I’ve lost my edge sitting behind a desk all day.”
She stretches her neck and arms, and her entire back crackles.
“You should come with us!” Jinx says, brightening.
You exchange glances with Sevika. “Er, not today. Maybe another time though.”
She looks momentarily defeated, but after a moment perks back up. “What about next week? On Sunday morning?”
It takes you 1.2 seconds to consider. “That would be cool.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll really come?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
She inexplicably wrestles your pinkie finger off the basket handle and links it with her own. “Pinkie swear and no take-backsies! See you later toots! Bye mom!”
You smother a grin as your mother’s face softens. Sevika rolls her eyes and follows Jinx as she bounces down the aisle, but you can tell that she's cooled off.
It appears that everything is back to normal.
“I can see why you’re drawn to the girl,” Your mom says as she watches them go. “There’s something about her that makes me want to fold her into my arms and never let go.”
“Yeah.”
“It makes me wonder about her father.”
"Mhm."
You link your arm through hers and give it a squeeze.
You and me both, mom. You and me both.
Two days later
Tuesday, October 14
“Alright y’all, let’s get this party started!”
The team cheers, and with enthusiasm begins to attack the four monstrous boxes that Issa brought for decorations. In the background the Addams Family is already playing on Monique’s projector, being cast onto one of the bare white walls. Connor has apparently decided that his contribution to the evening will be waving a fake sword around like a baton, directing and commenting on how best to decorate the place without raising a finger to help himself.
Issa glares at him from behind a long swath of shimmering black, spider web laced fabric.
“Are you planning on swinging that thing around all night, or are you actually going to help?”
“That’s what she said.”
Issa’s cheeks burn red.
Monique laughs. “It’s not like Connor actually has any skills in interior decorating. I mean you’ve seen his dorm, right?”
“Well yeah but, why are you even here if you aren’t going to do anything useful?”
“I am bein’ useful. I’m delegation’. It’s one of the definin’ features of good leadership.”
He flicks his hat and salutes you with the plastic scimitar. You shake your head with a barely repressed grin.
Tiny, blonde Hailey -- one of the weekend only members of the team -- snorts. “The only thing I’d trust you to take the lead in is the boot scootin’ boogie.”
“That is one of my specialities.”
He obliges you all with a quick demonstration.
“Speaking of leadin’, Terry’s about to graduate, which means there’s going to be an opening for a lead position soon, right cap’n?”
“Yep.”
“What?” Everybody exclaims at once. “Terry’s leaving?”
You pin another bat onto the edge of the cork board. “It sounds like he’s already got job offers lined up from JPL and SpaceX.”
“Holy Cow.”
“Is that why he’s not here?”
“Dude, that’s so cool!”
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me!”
The room slowly comes together as they discuss Terry’s imminent departure, then how many semesters they each have left till graduation, then what their plans are for the future. The movie plays on. You help mount unsettling portraits and drape them in fake cobwebs before sitting back to enjoy the view.
You're not sure, but you think Silco would like it. Jinx definitely would. There's a nice blend of classy and grotesque that should appeal to them both.
You wonder what they're doing right now. You haven't heard from either one of them since Sunday, and it's been driving you crazy. You spent all Monday studying for the course test, and considering whether you should text one of them, or prolong your agony and not text either.
You'd settled on not texting, and torturing yourself instead.
It was a relief to finally be doing something to take your mind off the Spisaks.
Well, one Spisak in particular.
At the forty five minute mark you’ve just about finished the room. It’s a good thing too, because as soon as the mamushka starts to play Connor immediately shushes everyone and starts to circle the lobby. All thoughts of decorating are left behind as Monique snatches up the other fake sword and brandishes it in his direction, a clear challenge to be his adversary in the awkward dance.
You grin, moving back to make space and settle one shoulder against the door that leads into the hall. As soon as the Addams brothers begin to sing, Hailey’s angelic voice harmonizes with them in perfect pitch. Issa pretends she isn’t interested in what’s going on, but she keeps scoffing and shaking her head at Connor and Monique in an attempt to hide her smile. Kelley and Amber have clearly never seen the movie before, but that doesn’t put a damper on their enthusiasm. They start doing strange dances you can only guess they learned from Tik Tok.
You clap and laugh as the song ends and Connor and Monique (the clear winner of the dance) take their bows around the room. But the smile freezes on Monique's face as she gets to you. Her eyes widen, and for a moment wears a look of sheer panic.
After several confusing seconds you realize she isn’t looking at you, but over your shoulder.
You turn quickly to find Silco standing directly on the other side of the glass. A funny twinge twists in your gut as you hastily step back and swing open the door.
“Hey Silco! Sorry, I didn’t see you. I was uh… a little distracted.”
He steps inside, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. “Having a nice evening?”
“Absolutely. We’re having lots of fun. Right guys?”
The nodding around the room is extremely emphatic. Some of them make unintelligible noises of overenthusiastic agreement.
“I didn’t realize you’d be stopping by.”
“I needed to finish some work. I thought it would be best to do it here.”
“Cool.” You say lamely.
In your defense, he’s looking very hot in his slim navy suit, and you were unprepared to see him after thinking about him nonstop for the last two days. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and a computer bag is slung across his shoulder, his hair flopping carelessly over his forehead.
You’re not sure why you’re overwhelmed by the sight of him. It’s not like you haven’t seen him wearing this stuff before. Maybe it’s because, instead of an angry blaze in his eye, there’s an unsettling frankness that makes it difficult to look him in the eye.
Pull yourself together!
You take a step towards one of the tables, hoping to regain some sense of reality. “There’s pizza, if you want some.”
“Thank you, but I’ve already eaten.”
“Right. Well, we’re almost done with the place, as you can see. There’s just a few things left.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
“No. Yeah, we won’t let you keep us.”
You look at him just long enough to throw him a flickering smile before he heads to the corner of the room.
“Okay guys,” You say, feeling oddly giddy. “Let’s get this done.”
The team goes back to their task with harried intention, but they continue to cast furtive glances Silco’s way, like he’s some kind of specter liable to disappear through the wall. You can’t help taking peeks at him either. He’s up against the wall, facing the room, though his attention is already directed at his computer.
This feels oddly like déjà vu, except you aren’t wearing booty shorts today. Just coffee covered work clothes and a baseball cap.
Which is equally as sexy.
Everyone seems to agree as a collective that Silco’s side of the room doesn’t need any more decoration, even though it’s the most empty corner in the place.
You bury a sigh and grab a portrait that’s propped up nearby. It’s of a very pale, vampiric young man with eyes tinted a strange cast of red. You try to ignore the similarities it holds with the man you now approach with slow steps.
He looks up as you reach the table.
“You don’t mind if I hang this real quick, do you?”
“Be my guest.”
You have to stretch awkwardly over his table in order to mount the picture on the nail that’s been hammered into the plaster. Unfortunately the portrait doesn’t want to oblige by catching the nail on the first try, and you start to feel foolish after the third attempt to mount the frame fails.
“I’m almost done, I swear.” You mutter.
“There’s no need to rush on my account.”
He’s gazing at you with such steadiness that your face turns hot, and a thrill shoots down to the pit of your stomach.
Finally the picture catches, and you shuffle away hastily, unable to address him with more than a fleeting smile before turning back to the room.
“Alright guys, how’s it looking?”
Most of the crew is milling about in the center of the room, looking unsure of themselves.
You check the clock. “Well I think I can finish the rest of this up. You guys can go ahead and clock out.”
The relief is palpable. Only Connor and Monique volunteer to stay long enough to clean up the food, and dump the extra trash made by the team in the dumpster out back. While they're gone, you put away all the random bits, collect the boxes, and stuff them in the stock room. Issa was the first one out the door as soon as you dismissed them, so you text her to pick them up the next time she comes in for a shift.
Monique cleans up the projector in less than ten minutes, and once she leaves with Connor, you’re alone in the echoing silence of the shop.
Alone with Silco.