Chapter Text
SILCO POV, PT 1
October 25, 9:30p.m.
SILCO’S OFFICE, THE LAST DROP
“He’s getting impatient, Billings. Those toxicology reports are... yeah, I know you’re not working with a lot. He knows it isn't easy, but the situation is...”
Silco’s eyes flicker from the paperwork in front of him, just in time to catch Sevika’s frustrated eye roll towards the sky. He might have smiled, had he any energy left in him beyond frustration.
And fear.
His face twitches with annoyance.
Fear is not an emotion he’s accustomed to feeling. Prior to October it had been under careful regulation, but Jinx’s situation escalated so violently to the degree where it's begun to leak into his peripherals. And now he's got that woman, bleeding that toxic feeling into the fabric of his waking reality.
And instead of jumping into action, he’s going against every single instinct to take her advice. Though, surprisingly, when he’d shared her perspective with Sevika, the soldier had readily agreed.
“Jinx will come back when she’s ready.”
He's a patient man, and well able to wait. The problem remains whether or not his daughter will be willing to return.
She loves you. She'll come back.
He winces, and brushes the interfering, bright-eyed woman out of his mind.
She was there more often than not these days.
“Just do your job, alright?” Sevika says gruffly, recapturing his attention. “Pull some connections out of your ass if you have to. Yeah. Sure. Great. Fine. Piss off.”
With a huff, Sevika ends the call.
“The situation is unchanged,” Silco concludes blandly.
“Yep.”
It doesn't come as a surprise. Sergeant Billings only had the toxicology reports from the few teens affected by the first round of poisonings and those chemicals were too easily purchasable on the black market. The newest round of poisonings were clearly more complex, pointing to highly concentrated dosages of dangerous chemical compounds.
The key now is identifying which ones were used, where they could be purchased, and tracking them back to the source. Perhaps then they could finally nail down Finn as the patron behind Rodriguez.
And keep that meddling boy Ekko from getting him into dangerous waters with his parents.
Silco scrubs a tired hand across his face.
As soon as Ekko had begun his not so subtle investigations, Ming and Thomas had come to Silco, begging him to keep their boy from digging any further. Of course that wasn't something he was able to promise, but he did his best to reassure them that he would look out for the boy, and try to dissuade him from continuing his line of investigation. Naturally that plan backfired, as he'd warned them it would.
At least Jinx's interest in the boy had slowed his roll somewhat, though not completely. It was rather inconvenient that both he and Thomas had such intelligent children, and that they wished to be together. Yet it had given Silco more of an excuse to inquire after Ekko's doings.
Keep your friends close and enemies closer.
His little minx had been right about that, too.
Silco could feel the vice tightening. He's in a race against time to get to the bottom of this problem before it escalates into something dangerous.
There's a heavy sound as Sevika drops onto the couch. He folds his hands on the desk as she picks up her recently discarded cigar to take a long drag.
“So where are we at in regards to gaining access to the other reports?”
“Inaccessible," She mutters through a cloud of smoke. "Except for the shiny new case team. Ever since the mayor was convinced to hand the investigation over to Kiramman, not even Marcus has been able to argue enough to get that information.”
“An inconvenient, though expected move. She is a stickler for protocol.”
“Yeah. Damn moralist.”
He answers her sneer with a halfhearted smirk. His opinions on moralists in business haven’t changed – Dealing with them is difficult and often made the process more complicated than necessary – but his stance on moralism as a weakness has altered significantly since one particular woman entered his life. He’d come to admire the moralist’s ability to doggedly hold onto their beliefs as they searched for the truth. Not unlike his own ability to take action and move forward regardless of opposition.
Something like a two-edged sword.
The perfect foil, when goals are aligned.
“We simply need to find a way to speak to Kiramman in a way she’ll understand,” Silco replies. “Convince her that we can offer her some support that her city, or the Piltover County Sheriff’s department, cannot.”
“She won’t take it.”
“We convinced Marcus.”
“That’s because we had something he needed.”
Medicine for his sick little girl.
Silco steeples his fingers as he rests his elbows on his desk. “Everyone has a price. If we can get Billings two more reports, I believe he'll be able to discover the answers we both need. Perhaps we can strike a bargain.”
“Like what?”
“Information on the location of Finn’s illegal warehouses and Rodriguez’s smuggling contacts in exchange for the toxicology reports. The office has been trying to sniff out that information for months.”
“Then she’ll know you’ve withheld that information. She’ll hate that.”
“As all good, upstanding officers would. But if Kiramman’s as smart as I believe, she’ll have to acknowledge that the information I have on Finn and Charles won’t link them to the investigation at hand, and would only put a temporary stop to their operations. My sharing it any earlier, without proof, would only have stalled the investigation, maybe even inhibited it, as they’d likely shut down and move their equipment elsewhere. Not to mention they’d become much more cautious as a result. Create even tighter security protocols wherever they settle in next.”
Sevika grunts her agreement. “I’m not saying we haven’t sat on that intel for good reason. I’m just saying that bitch already hates your guts, so I don’t think she’s going to take you at your word that you’ve kept it to yourself as an act of goodwill.”
He shrugs. “She’s free to think what she likes. But thanks to Marcus’ part in the investigation, both we and the Office now know that this little drug foray is pointing heavily towards Finn as it's operator. It’s in our best interests to pool our resources and focus on getting concrete proof.”
”She’ll know something’s up if we go at her with the concerned citizen act. We’ll never get her cooperation.”
“I believe that regardless of her feelings towards me, the greater good of Piltover will come first. I know for a fact that the mayor is applying pressure to the department to make progress on the case. The department is getting desperate.”
“She won’t give us any information.”
“She doesn’t have to,” Silco says with an unconcerned wave. “The olive branch is nothing but a formality."
"So why go through with it? What's the angle?"
"It will give her the opportunity to cooperate willingly. If she chooses to decline our help, I have an alternate plan."
"I hope it doesn't involve Mark's Ass. He ain't sly enough to pull off any cloak and dagger."
Silco raises his eyebrow at the derisive moniker. "Not him alone. But one of the boys came up with a virus and is ready to upload it to Kiramman’s computer when I give the word. In all likelihood, as a result, they’ll call in one of the leading experts in computer repair this side of Piltover county.”
“Oh yeah?” Sevika grunts. “And who might that be?”
“Heath.”
It brings him immense satisfaction to watch her eyebrows fly to the top of her forehead as she scoffs in disbelief. “You don’t mean porcupine boy?”
“Yes."
"No shit! I thought he was just a code dweeb."
"As everyone is meant to believe."
"So what's his deal?"
"I’d heard whispers about him on the dark web several years ago, and Kyle discretely passed on information regarding a young man who’d brought his phone to be repaired. Sharp hair, lot's of piercings. The boy’s search engine was overwhelmed with searches for an infamous hacker. It appeared he was obsessed with Zaun’s once notorious despot.”
“You mean that creepy fucker who went to jail last year for tapping into girl's webcams and downloading underage porn?”
Silco nods.
“So you’re telling me Heath is The Great Grimsby?”
Silco smirks. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than knowing he can still surprise his unflappable number two.
“Well hell!” Sevika laughs. “So our boy Heath is the best hacker in Piltover county?”
“So it would seem. And he apparently specializes in slicing past government encryption like a hot knife through butter. His words.”
“And here I thought you hired that weirdo because of his sparkling personality and great sense of hygiene,” She barks out a laugh. “I’ll never figure out how you find these people.”
“I pay attention.”
She shakes her head as she takes another drag. “So The Great Grimsby is going to upload the virus, then heroically offer himself up as the solution?”
“He runs a legitimate business in Piltover, and has earned himself a spotless reputation over the years cleaning up computer viruses. His work is rather impressive.”
“That sneaky little motherfucker.”
“Yes. And that reminds me. I need you to call Marcus and tell him to go ahead and present our request for an audience with Kiramman as soon as is convenient for her. Though make sure you impress upon him that the sooner, the better.”
“Sure thing boss,” She stubs her cigar out and lumbers to her feet.
Silco’s phone vibrates, and reaches for it, heart jumping before disappointment settles in.
It isn’t her.
It is, perhaps, too early for an update about his daughter. She was probably still finishing up at the shop before heading over to the festival. He had to curb bis desire to tap into the shop security cameras and check in on her progress.
“Heard anything else from your woman today?”
Apparently I'm not the only one who pays attention.
His eyes jump towards his second, who's making a great show of pretending she isn’t watching him as she stretches her back.
“She’s not my woman,” Silco answers blandly.
She grunts.
He knows he needs to be better about keeping his emotions under control around Sevika. She’s been claiming she could tell when she was texting him by the way he shifted in his pants, as if they suddenly became too tight.
Which is utterly ridiculous.
That had only happened a few times, and never when Sevika was in the room.
His eyes linger briefly on the front of the desk, where the papers were still scattered from where he’d set her down, and contemplated making an extremely rash, and rather unwise decision. One that was waylaid by a call from Sevika, ironically enough. She wouldn’t be nearly this smug if she knew just how many romantic moods she’d ruined by her untimely interference.
“I’m just sayin’. She would be, if you asked her.”
“I’ve given you my opinions on the subject,” He runs his fingers through his hair. “And the situation being as it is, that opinion has not changed. Right now my priority is this case, and my daughter.”
“Not her?”
“Unfortunately she’s linked to both in some infernal way, so she is a priority by proxy.”
“All the more reason to rope her in. You could prioritize both things together. I bet she's love to help with all this Scooby-Doo type shit.”
“Not happening,” He answers shortly. “The risk is already too great as it is. We know her phone was tapped, and there’s no telling what information Charles was able to glean about our relationship during that time. And if Finn puts two and two together...”
“All the more reason to hurry up and marry the broad. You'll sleep a lot easier. Or you can at least spend a more enjoyable way losing sleep other than burying yourself in paperwork, if you know what I mean."
She makes a crude gesture, and he snorts, hoping his ears aren't as red as they feel.
“Inspiring words lieutenant.”
“I try sir. I mean... Jason," She finishes in a seductive tone.
His cheeks are definitely flaming now, and she sends him a wolfish grin as she salutes and swaggers from the office.
He struggles to keep his mind clear of several rather vivid scenarios, and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
What's the matter Spisak? Pants getting too tight?
He closes his eye with a groan.
He can't give himself the space to think about it.
Patience, Spisak. Patience. Focus on the task in front of you.
He sets his head back against the headrest with a long, rough breath, then stares up at the ceiling. It takes him several seconds to actually see the markings on the ceiling: Jinx’s early art pieces. Rudimentary, but expressive on dark, smoke tainted beams. There are so many memories held in this space, secret communications shared with his daughter during particularly boring meetings. Barely restrained smirks as she pulls imitation faces of Smeech or Finn, hanging upside down from the rafters.
He wishes he could go back to that time when things were simpler. He wishes she was still the little girl who could be comforted by being held in his arms. But she’d long outgrown that need. Long outgrown him, he's afraid.
“Jinx loves you, and she’ll come back.”
It's a promise unfounded on any tested theory, just hopeless optimism. Yet he wants so badly to believe it. That minx of his has a way of infusing reassurance and hope in him beyond reason. Perhaps he’s been so long without it, he’s forgotten its power. But having her near, honeyed lips dripping with such sweet, senseless sentiments is…
Intoxicating.
He’s spent far too many nights contemplating that mouth instead of working, it's becoming something of a habit.
He stretches with a wince at the twinge in his lower back. He didn’t get much sleep last night – which is not out of the ordinary – but his body has suddenly become less tolerant of his usual sleepless sleep schedule.
It’s that damned woman.
Her magic hands had lulled him into the longest, and best night’s sleep he’d had in the last twenty years. And just like that, his body is now expecting him to go to bed before midnight. Not that he wouldn't like it, but he knows it won’t be half so restful if he isn’t wrapped in her arms.
Just one more way she’s made herself indispensable to me.
It should be more concerning.
He rubs his tired face before reaching into the bottom drawer for a glass.
He used to be something of a force of nature before she showed up. He could rely on himself to hold the line in the face of fierce opposition. But she's a different kind of opponent entirely. She's a slow drip of water that eats through his iron resolve till it's weak and rotted. He's no longer sure of what his life would look like without her, or how he'd managed to survive before she arrived.
And he has lost all perspective on whether or not things have gotten out of hand.
I need her.
It's the most logical, undeniable conclusion.
He's never liked being at the mercy of another human being, always priding himself on being a man who doesn’t need anything. So it's a terrifying reality.
He plops a rock of ice into the glass, then pours bourbon with a rather generous hand.
Blessedly, she doesn’t seem to fully grasp the effect she has on him. At least, not completely.
He’s seen glimpses in those limpid eyes of a life he hasn’t contemplated in his entire adult life. Of a future that wasn’t only paperwork and meetings. A future that contained the full spectrum of emotion beyond duty: of rest, peace, and pleasure.
Immediately there arose the memory of her standing in front of him, kind hands caressing his scars under a set of incomprehensibly compassionate eyes.
He’d been close to letting her through last night. On his birthday, no less, he’d almost let down his final guard. But there was nothing he desired - or feared - more than a night spent losing himself to that woman.
But the timing simply isn't right.
He's far too preoccupied with solving this investigation to give her the proper care and consideration she deserves. He can't promise that his pent up frustrations won't bleed into their time together, tainting the experience.
When this is all over, and they finally did have the time (and if there isn't any, by God he'd find the time), he solemnly swears that there will be no other thoughts in his head other than pleasing her. To finally deserve that look of affection in her soft, emotive eyes. To be the sole possessor of her body, lips, and attention, when she offers them.
And even if she wants to do nothing more than talk (God please let her want to do more than talk) he would be content. Or learn to be. She understood him in a way no other human being had even come close to matching, outside of his lieutenant and daughter, and that is gift enough. She diffuses his anger, spins tales of loveliness. She opens up his world to greater horizons. Makes him want to be a better man.
And she never asks for anything in return.
It shames him, the sadness in her eyes when he fails to respond to her declarations of love with those three simple words. But every time it arises in his mind, he chokes. She has no idea how many times he’s wanted to say the same thing in return. To adequately express how he never wants her to leave. How he wants to hold her until she becomes a part of the very fiber of his being.
He isn’t sure what love is, but he's certain that this is the closest he’s ever come to the feeling. And he knows the excuses he’s piled up about the board are starting to sound very thin, even to his own ears.
So why don’t you just pull the trigger, Spisak?
It’s her voice that asks him the question, and her face that tortures him.
Because I’m a coward.
He takes a very large swig of bourbon, and winces at the burn.
It’s because he’s afraid of losing her.
Like you're losing Jinx.
Afraid of her leaving.
Like Jinx left.
Afraid of seeing horror and disgust in her eyes as she turns her back on him and he's left on his own once more. Except it would be worse than before, because she's brought hope and warmth back into his life. She promised him a brighter future, and to lose that would be devastating. No matter that she’s already seen some of the worst of him. If she were to ever change her mind, to think, even for a moment, that he was monstrous then...
It would be my undoing.
He pushes violently to his feet and stalks the length of the room, swinging between anger and fear.
I must do something.
Even organizing or filing - his least favorite jobs - would be better than sitting still. Anything to keep the swirling thoughts at bay. They certainly aren't helping him stay sharp, and the sharper he stays, the sooner this will be over.
But he isn't able to get even one step into the task before Sevika calls.
"Well?" He answers curtly, "Is the Sheriff eager and willing to meet with us?"
"I'd say so boss," She drawls back. "In fact she's so eager to meet, she's already here."
Silco frowns. "Kiramman's here?"
"Yeah, along with another little shit you'll be just thrilled to see."
Before he has a chance to ask who, there's the sound of a scuffle, then a shout.
"Hiya pops!"
Silco's eyes widen. "Jinx!"
"Bet your surprised to hear from me, right? And probably a lot confused, but I'm gonna be up in a minute to explain and I promise we have a plan so don't be mad at us okay? Okay, see you soon byeeee!"
And with that unsettling request the connection ends.
Silco stands stock still in the middle of his office, confusion flushing over his initial relief.
Wasn't his daughter supposed to at the festival right now, with Ekko?
So if Jinx is not there, then why was he lead to believe she would be?
Does she know anything about this?
And why should I not be angry?
Unease overwhelms the confusion as a sharp knock raps the door.
"One moment."
He sits back behind his desk and fights to school his features as he takes a single breath. He then grabs the last file he'd discarded and begins to re-read a sentence as he infuses his voice with boredom.
"Come in."