Chapter Text
Fugo returned to the mansion wearily. He had been working his ass off recently getting Giorno’s casino scheme off the ground and it didn’t help that Mista and Narancia who were being put in charge of running them were a little tooenthusiastic about everything involved aside from the business aspect. He’d been lecturing them all day about funds and expenses and what they could and couldn’t spend money on, especially so early in the plan. But it had been like talking to a brick wall with bad fashion sense so he was honestly glad to have a break.
Well, perhaps not a break, necessarily, but he would rather deal with Giorno than the two idiots he had left behind at the casino.
Maria greeted him from the kitchen as he came in and passed by. Paolo and Mariolina were standing on stools at the counter to help her bake.
“Welcome back, Panna, would you like a cookie? They just came out of the oven.”
“They’re d’licious,” Paolo urged, clapping his sticky hands.
Fugo smiled, feeling a bit of the tension melt away. “How could I pass that up? Thank you.”
Maria smiled fondly at him as he grabbed a still-warm cookie off the rack and continued on his way toward the office.
He was slightly surprised to see the place empty of everyone but Giorno who sat behind his desk, working on the computer. He glanced up as Fugo came in.
“Fugo, thanks for coming,” he greeted with a nod. “I’m sorry to pull you away, but something urgent came up.”
“Well, honestly, I’d had just about enough of those idiots,” Fugo muttered. “What’s going on?”
Giorno folded his hands in front of him on the desktop. “A rival gang is trying to move into our territory. They’ve been utilizing our shipping routes over the last couple months. I’ve had some men keeping an eye on them and we’ve finally had a breakthrough. I want your help with tracking them down and figuring out who is leading them.”
Fugo nodded. “Of course. Do we have any leads I can go off of?”
“Just one,” Giorno said and reached into his desk, pulling out a small envelope which he slid across to Fugo.
Fugo picked it up and looked inside, pulling out a glass vial with a liquid in it. “What is this?”
“It’s a drug that they are known for running. As far as I know they make it in house. If you find out what this is and where it’s used, then my hope is that you can trace it back to the source.”
Fugo nodded. “Alright. I’m going to need a lab, though.”
“That’s already covered,” Giorno said. “I’m assigning you a partner on this.”
Fugo frowned. “A partner? No one else is qualified for this kind of work—isn’t that why you called me?”
“No one in our team is, but my analyst has the capabilities you’re looking for.”
Fugo’s frown deepened. “Analyst? This is the first I’ve heard of them.”
“I don’t trouble you for everything, Fugo, you do enough for me as it is. This however, is too important to assign to any one person. I think the two of you will work well together.”
“I don’t want to work with someone I don’t know!” Fugo snapped. “I can get this done quicker by myself, I just need access to a lab.”
“Which you’ll get working with Badia,” Giorno said in obvious dismissal as he turned back to his desk to pick up a pen and notepad, scribbling out something. “This is the address where you will be working. I told her to expect you tomorrow morning with the sample.”
Fugo continued to glower as he snatched the paper. “Very well. In return though, you’re going to have to handle Mista and Narancia and their casino schemes for the next few days.”
Giorno huffed a laugh. “I suppose I can curb their plans for you, but you’re going to have to handle anything concerning the budget.”
“Just tell them that if they want something specific they’re going to have to write up a proposal for it and submit it to you,” Fugo said.
“I think I will,” Giorno replied.
Fugo left the office, still annoyed that Giorno had denied his request to work alone on this. He didn’t see the point in having a second person aboard, especially someone he didn’t even know. How did Giorno even know he could trust this analyst? Fugo hadn’t even known she was on the payroll, much less seen any of her work to prove that she knew what she was doing.
Sometimes he just got incredibly frustrated with Giorno hiding things from him—intentionally or otherwise.
But neither Bucciarati or Abbacchio were there for him to complain to at the moment and he refused to go back to the casino yet, so he headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee in the hopes that it would stave off his looming headache.
Maria was just cleaning up as the kids happily ate cookies and milk at the table.
“Would you like some coffee, Maria?” he asked as he went to fill the moka pot.
“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Maria replied before looking him over. “You look exhausted, Panna.”
He sighed, setting the pot onto the stove. “I just wish Giorno would tell me more about the things he’s working on. I’ve been out of the office so much for the last couple weeks that I didn’t even know there was a rival gang pushing into our territory. And now he expects me to do the footwork without giving me any real information.”
Maria gave him a sympathetic look. “I know Giorno can be a little un-forthcoming sometimes, but he does have so much on his plate. He knows he can trust you with the job, Panna, that’s why he came to you for this.”
Fugo sighed, knowing she was right. “I still wish he would confide in me more.”
“I get the feeling that’s a lesson that will be very hard to get into Giorno’s head,” Maria said and Fugo couldn’t help but huff a wry laugh.
“You’re not wrong.”
He poured them coffee and they leaned against the counter, watching over Paolo and Mari as they savored the drink.
“How are the casinos going?” Maria asked.
Fugo groaned. “The project is going well, it’s having to deal with Mista and Narancia’s ‘business ventures’ that is making me want to shoot them both.”
Maria laughed. “I’ve heard some of their schemes over dinner. I applaud you for keeping them in check.”
“I know it will all work out eventually, but it’s like pulling teeth right now getting them to pay attention to anything related to the actual business.”
“They’ll get there once the glamour wears off. You really should convince Giorno to let you take a vacation after this, though.”
“Oh, trust me, I will,” Fugo muttered before checking his watch. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to get back to those two idiots before they do something we’re all going to regret.” He gave the auburn-haired woman a fond look. “Thank you for listening.”
Maria smiled. “I’m always here to listen, Panna. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Fugo left to head back to the casino, hoping that the job for Giorno would go smoothly. Because if this turned out to be another one of those situations where Giorno hiding something made things more complicated than they had to be, then he was going to have some serious words with the Don.
~~~~~~~
The next morning, Fugo headed to the address Giorno had given him. It was part of a business space that Passione rented on the edge of town, an unassuming enough location.
He sighed and headed into the building, making his way to the second floor where the lab and office were supposed to be located.
Upon finding the right room number he knocked on the door. It was opened in a few seconds by a young woman, staring at him from behind a pair of glasses, scrutinizing.
“You must be Fugo,” she said after a beat.
He nodded. “Badia?”
A nod of confirmation as she stepped aside to let him in. Fugo went into the room, frowning as he saw a rather modest setup. There were a couple computers and a large desk on one side of the room and some lab equipment on the other but he wasn’t even sure they would have everything they needed here.
“This is it?” he had to ask, skeptical.
She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if we’re running analysis on drugs, we’re going to need more than a high school science project set up,” Fugo protested, motioning to the meager supply of laboratory equipment. “I thought I made it clear to Giorno that I would need a lab for this to do full forensic testing on.
“You might, but I don’t,” she replied simply.
Fugo stared at her, admittedly bristling a little. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I don’t have need of that stuff, so there’s no point in it taking up space, or having your boss pay for it,” she said. “I trust you brought the sample?”
Fugo was slightly taken aback. “Of course I did, but I don’t see what you’re going to do with it here.”
She huffed an impatient sigh, folding her arms over her chest. “My ability will take care of it.”
Fugo blinked. Ability? Did that mean… “Giorno didn’t tell me you were a Stand user,” he said flatly.
A guarded look washed over Badia’s face. “Does it matter? There’s a lot of Stand users in Passione. Why is it so strange that I’m one of them? Just because it’s not a combat Stand doesn’t mean it’s not good for something.”
Fugo gritted his teeth. “That’s not what I meant. I simply prefer advanced warning if I’m working with Stand users or not.”
“Well, you know now, so can we get on with this?” Badia asked shortly.
Fugo pressed his lips together. “Fine. Yes, let’s get on with it.” He reached into his coat and pulled out the sample, reluctantly handing it over.
Badia pulled the vial out of the envelope and held it up to the light. “This is supposed to be made in house by the rival gang?” Fugo nodded. “Do we know what region they might work out of?”
“No, I believe that’s one of the things we’ll need to find out,” Fugo said shortly.
“How is it that Passione got hold of a sample?”
“I don’t know.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Does the Don tell you anything? I thought you were one of his right-hand men.”
Fugo’s jaw tightened further, trying desperately to keep hold of his simmering temper. “Giorno tasked us with finding out what this is and tracing it back to where it came from. It doesn’t matter how it was acquired.”
He knew the excuse sounded lame as soon as he said it. He should have asked Giorno more questions, but it was too late for that now, he already looked like an idiot. His face flushed slightly as he folded his arms over his chest. “What are we doing first?”
“First, I don’t show other Stand users my Stand unless they show me theirs,” Badia said firmly as she took the vial over to the work table and set it down.
Fugo balked. “Absolutely not.”
She looked slightly taken aback. “I’m not asking you to perform a circus trick or anything, I only want to see it. You don’t think that’s fair considering I will have to use mine during this entire investigation?”
Fugo glared. “Is it really that important to you?”
“It is, actually,” Badia replied.
“Technically, I outrank you in the organization,” Fugo said sternly. “I don’t strictly have to do anything you say.”
“Technically this is my lab,” Badia said, meeting him, beat for beat without blinking. “The Don told me I had free rein here when he gave it to me. You can call him if you don’t believe me.”
Fugo gritted his teeth. He had no reason to think Giorno hadn’t told her that, after all, he was well known for handing over jobs to people who were capable of doing them and letting them be. Fugo had always trusted Giorno in that. It was just this whole thing on top of everything else just seemed like such a stupid reason for a hang up.
Badia raised an eyebrow, waiting for him. “Technically, I don’t even need you for this now that you brought me the sample. If you wish, you can leave and go see to other business.”
“It was Giorno’s request we work together.”
“Request from the Don or not, I still refuse to trust a Stand user who will not show me his Stand.”
Fugo almost walked right there. He did not show Purple Haze to just anyone. While he was confident enough in managing his Stand by now, there was still a certain shame that came with others, especially strangers, looking at his Stand.
But he had been petulant enough today as it was and wanted to get done with this job as soon as possible. What did it really matter? He tried to tell himself. In the end it was inconsequential.
“Fine,” he muttered, the took a deep breath. “Purple Haze.”
His Stand materialized at his shoulder and Badia’s eyes widened as she instinctively took a step back. Fugo felt a brief surge of satisfaction at her uneasiness because his discomfort was becoming more apparent through Haze as he fought to keep his Stand from having a neurotic episode, unable to help feeling self-conscious.
Badia scrutinized Haze as he hovered at Fugo’s shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.
“Hmm,” Badia murmured. “Makes sense now.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Fugo demanded, the anger returning in full as he quickly dismissed Haze.
“Nothing, just…that’s quite a Stand,” Badia said with a brief shrug. “Purple Haze, you called it?”
“Yes,” Fugo replied shortly. “Now, if you’re comfortable enough to manifest yours, then I think we should get started on the issue at hand if that’s how we’re solving it?”
She gave him an annoyed look but headed over to the desk holding the lab equipment, tucking a stray bit of her pinned up light brown hair behind her ear as she bent over. She picked up the vial and a dropper and took out a clean slide which she dripped some of the liquid onto.
Fugo watched with his arms folded, admittedly curious about how her Stand ability was going to help in the investigation.
She looked over her shoulder at him, scrutinizing him for a brief moment before she took a breath. “Atom Heart Mother.”
A shape formed next to the desk, humanoid and robotic. Fugo’s eyes widened as he saw the psychedelic swirls of neon across the Stand’s body, almost rippling like amoebas under a microscope. It was an odd contrast to the muted earth tones in the sweater and plaid skirt of its user.
The Stand was faceless, but a screen in the center of its face glowed with a cool light. “How may I serve you today, Miss Badia?” the Stand asked in a flat, polite voice.
“I need you to run this sample,” Badia said, offering the slide to her Stand. “Tell me everything you can about its makeup and potential origins.”
“As you wish, Miss Badia.”
The Stand took the slide and Fugo watched as a slot in its abdomen opened where the Stand inserted the slide. The screen on its face dimmed and it stood there as if it were processing.
“How long does this take?” Fugo asked.
“It depends. Something like this, probably a few minutes,” Badia said as she pointed to the door. “I would like a cup of tea. How about you?”
Fugo nodded, and followed the young woman to a shared kitchenette down the hall where she turned on an electric kettle and pulled an assortment of teabags from the cupboard.
“How long have you been working for Passione?” he asked finally, the silence feeling a little awkward.
Badia glanced over at him from where she was pulling two mugs from the cupboard. “I’ve done jobs for Passione long before Giorno Giovanna became the Don. Polpo found me. I was doing freelance research for a university while I was in high school. Everyone was very impressed by my turnover rate.”
“So that’s how you got your Stand?” Fugo asked.
She shook her head. “I didn’t get it through Polpo. Atom Heart Mother was around long before that. She…started to show up when I was younger.”
“You gained her naturally then.” Fugo nodded.
Badia poured the water into the mugs and handed one to Fugo. “I’m sorry we seemed to get off on the wrong foot. I don’t socialize a lot if I’m being honest.”
“It’s okay. I’m not the easiest person to get along with,” Fugo muttered, selecting a bag of earl grey and watching as it began to color the hot water.
“That makes two of us.” Badia picked up her mug and headed back out of the kitchenette. “The analysis is probably finished by now,” she said.
They returned to the office to find Atom Heart Mother still standing where Badia had left her, but with her screen flashing slowly.
“Miss Badia, the analysis is complete.”
“Show me the reading,” Badia commanded, taking up a pen and notebook.
The screen showed a readout of the chemical breakdown.
Fugo was surprised to see how detailed everything is.
“Ah, so your Stand basically functions like a mass spectrometer,” he realized, unable to help being impressed.
Badia nodded, eyebrows quirking slightly. “Correct. Atom Heart Mother is able to break down any substance, and thus reduce it to its base components.”
“Impressive,” Fugo muttered grudgingly.
He didn’t miss the proudly pleased gleam that entered Badia’s eyes before she turned back around and started taking down the notes that ran across Atom Heart Mother’s screen.
“Thank you, that is all for now,” Badia said as she finished.
“Very good, Miss,” the Stand said, but didn’t disperse, still standing there. Badia stared at it incredulously.
“You are dismissed, Atom Heart Mother.”
But the Stand still stood there. “Miss Badia, may I see the other Stand first?”
Fugo balked and Badia’s cheeks flushed instantly. “What?!”
“I very much wish to analyze the makeup of Purple Haze’s poison. I also find the Stand’s physical manifestation pleasant to look at.”
“How does it know about that?” Fugo demanded, his own cheeks admittedly flushing for an unknown reason.
Badia’s cheeks were bright red as she glowered at her Stand. “Absolutely not! That is very rude of you to ask!”
Atom Heart Mother tilted her head down in what could only be disappointment. “My apologies, Miss Badia. I will go now.” She dispersed and Badia huffed an oath under her breath as she spun toward her computers, adjusting her glasses.
Fugo pinned her with his gaze. “How did you Stand know about Purple Haze’s ability?”
“She didn’t, I mean, she only knew because I do,” Badia said with a huff. “It’s not necessarily uncommon knowledge in Passione who has what Stand abilities in the upper echelons. You’ve all made a name for yourselves. Anyone who was around back in the day heard stories about Bucciarati’s protégé who couldn’t contain the Stand that was a walking bio hazard.”
Fugo fumed, fists clenching at his side. “I assure you that’s not the case now.”
“Of course not, I would never have agreed to work with you if you were a danger to me. We all learn how to use our Stands. I’m sure it was a lot harder having one thrust upon you with the power of the arrow and not having one form naturally.” Badia’s tone wasn’t condescending, but it still came off that way. Fugo tried to bite back his anger.
She ignored him, though, and sat at her computer, typing furiously for a few moments.
“What are you doing now?” Fugo asked grudgingly, feeling rather useless at this point.
“Running the drug’s make-up though one of my programs,” she said. “It’s very specific and I feel like I’ve come across it before.”
Fugo glanced at the notebook page she had scrawled the information on. He frowned as he picked it up, reading over her notes. “It looks like a basic roofie to me.”
“It’s not,” Badia corrected. “Functionally, it works similarly, but it would be a lot more powerful without stealing so much of the brain function from the person who used it. See?” She tapped one number column. “The extra addition of this chemical outweighs the lack of others that you would find in rohypnol.”
Fugo frowned. “Why would this be sold as a recreational drug?”
“I don’t think it would be,” Badia said, clicking through several things before opening what looked like a police file and scanning the document quickly before enlarging part of it. “Look, see? A drug of a similar makeup was found in the bloodstream of this Jane Doe who was pulled out of the canal last month.”
Fugo frowned, leaning in to look at the report, before he realized how close he was to Badia and pulled back slightly, clearing his throat. “That doesn’t prove she didn’t buy it and then overdosed.”
“The body was found with her hands and ankles zip-tied together,” Badia said flatly. “Not to mention obvious signs of abuse.”
She stood up and went to grab the vial of the drug, holding it up contemplatively. “Part of what I do for Signore Giovanna is catalogue unknown deaths and murders in the city. The Jane Doe was not the only one that fit the MO and had this drug in her system.”
Fugo furrowed his brow, folding his arms over his chest. “And what else have you found?”
Her face was grim as she set the vial down, with just the slightest shake of her hand. “This drug isn’t being sold on the streets.”
“Giorno said they made it in house.”
“But for what reason?” Badia pressed, her hazel eyes boring into his own. “What kind of people would have reason to use a drug like this?”
An alert sounded from the computer as another search result popped up. Fugo glanced at an article speaking about local youths going missing at a higher rate than usual.
“Hold on,” Fugo snapped and sat down at the computer, quickly pulling up a map of Italy and the surrounding oceans. “Where were all of these bodies found?”
Badia gave him a look before she leaned over him, tugging the keyboard closer to her as she typed.
She hit several other buttons and the locations showed on the map.
“Can you cross reference these to other reports outside of the city? Anything that involves bodies that were potentially found with this drug in their system?”
“I’ll do my best,” Badia said.
Fugo waited as she typed furiously and they sat in silent anticipation as her programs ran, plucking the information from various databases until all the results showed up. Badia added the new finds to the map.
Fugo leaned in, staring at them as his heart sank with realization that his suspicions had been confirmed right before he felt anger flare to life deep inside him.
“Giorno was right. They have been using our shipping routes,” he said darkly, the fury about ready to boil over. “But they’re not trafficking drugs.”
Badia was pale as she stared with a cold resignation at the map, arms folded tightly across her chest. “They’re trafficking people.”