Chapter Text
The early morning fog swirled around his legs as Chris Larabee stepped out of the gleaming Chrysler. It seemed that the mist always settled heavier over the cemetery than anywhere else, and Chris pulled his black duster closer around him to ward off the chill. Squinting out from under the brim of his fedora hat, Chris could just make out the stooped figure in the brown overcoat standing over a gravesite. Larabee knew all about saying goodbye, having stood beside the graves of loved ones too many times himself. Not wishing to intrude upon a private moment, Chris hung back and waited patiently for the larger man.
Josiah Sanchez slowly turned away from his boss', and friend's, grave and walked towards the car and his new employer. After spending several nights by Fotocelli's hospital bedside, one of Chicago's most respected and notorious businessmen had died from the extensive gunshot wounds with only his trusted bodyguard by his side praying for his soul. That's how he'd gotten his nickname, 'the Preacher', although up until Fotocelli's death Josiah had only prayed over the people he'd killed. Josiah had been set to go back to Kenosha, see if he could find some peace in the ruins he'd left behind. However, he knew from experience that you couldn't escape who you are, and then Chris Larabee had come along and offered Josiah a place in his organisation.
An alliance between the Larabee and Fotocelli families had formed over twenty years ago. When Larabee Snr had passed away from a heart condition and Chris had stepped in as head, Fotocelli hadn't even hesitated giving the junior Larabee the same respect and consideration as he had the father. Although Chris was young and had a reputation for being ruthless and bad-tempered, especially after his wife and child were killed, neither Fotocelli nor Josiah had ever seen Chris conduct himself in a less than professional manner. Chris Larabee was always fair, his reputation stemmed from the fact that anyone who ever crossed Chris never got a second chance to try again. Josiah had trusted Fotocelli's instincts, and now he was trusting his own. If Chris Larabee was hiring, Josiah would accept.
Chris knew he'd made the right decision in hiring Josiah. The fact that Sanchez had stayed with Fotocelli until the end, and even stopped to say a final goodbye before starting over, that kind of loyalty was something Chris admired. Chris had been at the failed meeting the day Fotocelli and a lot of other people had died. What was supposed to have formed a strong alliance with all the major crime bosses in the area had become a bloodbath. Obviously some organisation heads had decided they didn't like the new contract and thought they could blast their point across. However, all that seemed to accomplish was for every family to break off into their own shattered groups. As far as business associates went, and the alliances his father and himself had formed over the years, Chris had sent feelers out to see if he could find out which of the Cartel's were behind the gang war and which were still trustworthy. As Larabee had already lost his family and now most of his reliable servants, Chris had decided to start over. At least this way he could choose who he would work with.
Chris held out his hand, "I'm sorry about Fotocelli. He was a good man."
"Thank you," Josiah replied, taking the offered hand before climbing into the car next to Chris and heading towards his new home.
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"Haven't seen you in a while," Buck observed as he looked up from behind the bar and watched Chris walk into the club with Josiah following closely behind.
"I showed Josiah around the estate," Chris answered.
"Nice to see you again Sanchez," Buck nodded his head in acknowledgment.
"Likewise," Josiah returned.
"The Preacher! You're the Preacher," JD jumped up from his chair, but was pulled back down as Nathan continued working on the bandage around his shoulder.
"He's the best," JD said to Nathan as explanation for his sudden movement. "Nobody's been able to touch him for 15 years."
"Good," Nathan stated dryly. "Less work for me."
Josiah smiled at the dark man tending to his fidgeting patient, thinking that if he were ever hurt this man would certainly be who he'd choose to take care of the injury.
"The kid's going to be fine," Nathan answered Chris's unasked question when he shifted his gaze from Sanchez to Larabee.
Chris nodded slightly, Nathan had been a Godsend. Why any hospital would give up the best damn doctor they had was beyond Larabee, but it had been fortunate for him when Dr Nathan Jackson became a free agent. It wasn't always possible to get to a hospital, and it wasn't always possible to be able to explain where the injuries came from, so having a doctor on the payroll came in handy. It had even strengthened Larabee's alliances whenever another cartel needed a doctor's services.
Buck shook his head at JD's enthusiasm, before turning back to Larabee, "And last night? Did we get lucky?"
Chris rolled his eyes, "No." Why did it always have to be about women with Buck, Larabee smiled slightly, probably because with Buck it usually was a woman. "I was out trying to find a partner for Josiah," he answered.
JD made sure Nathan had finished before jumping up again, "I could do it Mr Larabee. We'd make a good team."
"I don't think so kid," Josiah tone was firm.
"You're not capable of being a hitman kid," Chris dismissed the idea just as Josiah had. "Besides I've got someone in mind."
"How would you know what I'm capable of," JD glared at Larabee. "And I ain't a kid."
"JD 'the Kid' Dunne," Buck smirked, "I like it Kid"
JD ignored Buck, "Please Chris, I wanna work for you."
"Has this got something to do with the Scolas?" Buck asked gently. JD had told him and Nathan how the Scola children had turned the kid and his mother, who had been a servant in their home for close to 25 years, out onto the streets. JD's mother had died a few weeks after that. JD had been hiding in the bushes outside the Meeting of the Dons, presumably waiting for the Scola boys to come out. Buck had spotted him and was heading out to scare the kid off, when everything went wrong all at once. A stray bullet had smashed through the window hitting JD in the shoulder and for some reason Buck had felt extremely guilty that he hadn't got to the young man in time. After making sure Chris was okay, Buck had taken the kid back to his club and called Nathan at the estate to help JD.
"What if it has?" JD scowled at Buck. "I will find them with or without your help."
Chris knew the voice of revenge when he heard it, and he was afraid the kid would go off and get himself killed. Larabee watched the concern in Buck's face as he listened to the determination in JD's voice. Well, it was Buck who seemed to have this overwhelming need to protect the kid, and it had been Wilmington who had dragged JD to safety and Nathan after the shootout. "Maybe, Buck's got something for you to do around here."
Buck glanced at his oldest friend and partner who shrugged, it seemed Chris liked the kid too. "You do know how to make a martini, right?" Buck grinned at JD.
"I'm no bartender," JD scowled at Wilmington, before heading towards the door.
"Well then, maybe you can hire someone for me," Buck's smile widened as JD stopped and turned to him with still a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "I could do with a hand managing this place, and someone to help with the counterfeiting operation we run from downstairs. I'm sure I can teach you the ropes."
JD's eyes lit up, "No problem, I'm a quick study."
"I'm sure you are kid," Buck laughed. "And once you know how to run everything, I'll have more time for the ladies."
"I think I can hear all the women running for cover now," Nathan deadpanned, then ducked as a towel came flying towards him.
Chris grinned as he headed towards the stairs, "When Standish gets here, send him to my office."
"Standish?" Nathan queried turning to Buck when he realised Chris was already out of the room. "What would Larabee want with someone like Standish?"
Buck shrugged, "It was Maude who nobody trusted, and no doubt double-crossed everyone at the meeting. She seemed to be the main target, died instantly from all the gunshot wounds. But Chris doesn't think Ezra's as bad as his mother."
"And you don't agree?" Josiah questioned.
"Don't know," Buck answered. "I've never met him, but the people who have said you can never tell what he's thinking and he has a reputation for lying and cheating to get what he wants."
"Is that why no one would work for him after his mother died?" JD asked.
"The Standish clan are still together, even though there isn't an actual Standish family member running it," Nathan said. "I heard it was because everyone thought he was too spoilt and would have squandered all the money in under a year. Rumour has it Ezra couldn't run a newspaper run let alone one of the largest crime organisations."
Buck shook his head, "I don't know about that. Standish does know money, apparently he can make the dirtiest, bloodiest money come out smelling as sweet as wildflowers in the Spring."
"That's right," Chris growled as he walked back into the room to retrieve the case he'd left by one of the tables. "And with the stories I've heard spread around town about all of you at one time or another, I wouldn't have thought I'd be hearing you lot gossiping. I will hire who I choose, and if you don't like it you can leave. Otherwise the next person who repeats a rumour in my presence, gets a bullet."
Everyone bowed their heads, their expressions suitably contrite, until Chris had left the room once more.
"Okay, Chris isn't present anymore," Buck walked over and sat in one of the chairs. "Does anyone know who he has in mind to partner Josiah?"
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