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What? You don't believe me? [bit && L337GAM3R]

Jared smiled and shook his head. “No it's not really any of that.” He pushed the sleeve up a little farther, the Irish flag behind the four leaf clover. His initials scrawled in one of the leaves. “Just something I had done back home before I came to America, it hurt like a bitch.” He said with a smile watching her get comfortable on the couch. His eyes trailed her dainty feet down her slender legs and over the curves of her dress til he looked her in the eyes. “Well if you won't have another I will.” He said and downed his glass pouring another.

In Dublin where this whiskey was bottled and distilled it was drank like water, and Jared was originally from Ireland, Dublin was his home town. Downing the second glass he had poured he capped the bottle and smiled, still sober as an Irish judge after a Catholic service he smiled and walked back to the kitchen putting his liquor, now half empty, back in the freezer.
 
"I'll bet," speaking absently as she took it all in. "Hmmm. J for Jared, right? And M for...?" Her eyes traced around the tattoo, then wandered, observing other things. He wasn't an unattractive man, Velma decided, quite the opposite, actually. Shifting she propped her head up with one arm, reaching down into her purse with the other, "Don't worry," she said as she quickly pulled that hand back out, "I'm just getting a sweet." A little peppermint candy, it wasn't the girl's style to carry any weapons, speaking as she popped it into her mouth. She didn't enjoy alcohol tastes lingering in her mouth.

"Go ahead and do it, Mister Detective-Man," and things flowed smoothly in her mind, any fear dissipating and being replaced with a comfortable numbness. "I won't stop you."

"Is that all of the questioning, then?" That mint clicked around in her mouth when she talked. Velma knew it was too easy to be over yet, but wanted to move things along - prompt him to another question if there were going to be any. "You know," and she looked again at the useless gun on the table, "you can't scare me into saying anything against my father." Trying to emphasize again how pointless she was finding everything. In truth, it wasn't a loyalty that held her to him - it was knowing that whatever they could think up to do to her in an attempt to get her to talk, her father would dole out twice as bad for betrayal
 
Jared walked back over and sat down in the recliner kicking back and relaxing a little. “Ok if you want to move this along then I suppose we can get started in full.” Jared smiled and looked over her once more. “I guess I have to ask the basics, have you ever seen your father distribute illegal substances, or order the distribution of the such substances?” He asked with a calm collected smile as he watched the tipsy young girl on the couch.

Shaking his head he knew deep down that this was going to take a while, and whether or not she realized it the arrangement that they were using worked out far better for her as well as the agency he worked for. If her father got word she had been being questioned for an extended period of time it was a certainty that someone would wind up hurt or dead. This safe house was off the books, off the maps and most of all it was in the control of only one person, Jared.

“The M stands for McManus, it's my last name after all.” He said a moment later in response to her earlier comment about his tattoo. “If you're nice and answer my questions I will show you the other one.” He said with a smile and a soft chuckle.
 
"Detective McManus," she repeated, tasting the words instead of just simply speaking them. "Got a wife, do you? Some pretty little thing waiting for you when this is all said and done? Maybe some kids? A son just like his pop? A daughter so sweet sugar falls short?" In her tipsy stupor it was hard to tell if she was asking the questions to create annoying small-talk in efforts to pester, or gathering information of her own to use against him - perhaps when she got out, crying to daddy. Or, should he be locked up, anyone out looking to settle a score for Don Pondelli. By the way she was giggling, it seemed like she was leaning more towards working on bothering.

When she didn't arrive that night, he wouldn't be too worried. The girl got flighty - sometimes leaving for days at a time, only to show up as if nothing happened. It wouldn't be until that couple days passed and worked on the better part of a week.
Clarence was what would set off the first alarms. The man was so prompt.

"Oh, another tattoo? What a dapper gentleman you are," smiling as she cocked an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Well, then, I'll try to be a good girl and answer your questions promptly," Velma paused for a second, crunched the rest of the peppermint and continued, "No and no. I've never seen my father partake in any illegal activities. To my knowledge he's never distributed any illegal substances nor has he ordered the distribution of any. The stuff in the back of the limousine was a gift from a friend," she lied, and then decided to reiterate, "for my birthday."
 
Jared smiled and leaned back into the recliner a little more as he listened to her inebriated barrage of questions. “No lass, I didn't have a family when I moved here I don't have one now. I am only twenty seven. A family is not something I wish to rush into.” Jared looked at her something about her seemed to change as she got to relax more around him. “I won't ask who the friend was since the alcohol was a birthday present then lass.” With a long yawn Jared smiled and looked over at the clock. “Almost ten thirty, wow I thought it was much earlier.” Jared looked back to the young, attractive, mobsters daughter and titled his head to the side.

“Ok let's see next question.” Thinking for a second Jared was going to have to work a little harder to get her to crack. “Would you mind listing off some of your fathers associates?” Jared asked and stood up to pick up his jacket. Fumbling in the pockets he pulled out a black notepad and a pen. Setting the two items in front of her Jared smiled. “Please go ahead.”

Jared walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator once again pulling out a small pitcher of tea he grabbed a new glass from the cabinet and poured himself some tea. Watching her he smiled and drank half the glass in the kitchen before walking back to the living room and sitting down across from her. Reaching up he loosened his tie and popped the two top buttons on his dress shirt.
 
"Only twenty-seven?" and it was followed up with a whistle, "Huh. I wouldn't be able to get away with that. If I got to twenty seven without some poor sappy sucker and a couple of ratty kids everyone would think I was a disappointment." Velma chuckled, somewhat enjoying her situation in the off-state that her mind hovered in. "I mean, I'm not wanting to rush into any relationship either. But I know I'll have to some day." Suddenly that mood swung and she was hot
hateful
angry.

"That doesn't mean one day I'm going to be some cooped up housewife, either," it was obvious that this came from some previously debated topic. "I will not settle and I will not put myself in a position where I've got to rely on some man." She popped another mint in her mouth, a chill pill, and was settled again. A deep breath and she was fine.

"Ten thirty?" there was a whimper, "Already? My night's been ruined. All gone. Thanks." More feigned drama. The girl really could be a child, trying to be more of a burden than it was worth in an attempt to make him set her loose. If you could throw a big enough fit then usually people caved in. But she was getting tired and drunk, her efforts slipping until it getting past the point of caring. Velma combed her fingers through her short hair, still laid out on the couch, and held a hand over her mouth as she yawned, then moved to pick up the pen.

"I told you," she persisted, "I don't know any details." She scribbled something, vague descriptions of men - could be anyone.

Big
Mustache
Bernie? Ernie? Something like that.

Short
Fat
Angry looking
Ryan Crawford? Brian Creighton?

Black
Polishes up the furniture
I don't know his name

They were something from her imagination - not selling out any of her dad's accomplices.

Velma sighed and threw him a glance in time to see him loosening that tie. Not realizing, she bit that lower lip, thinking in her darling intoxicated mind Ohh, don't stop there! There was something about him as he put up with her that struck a right chord. Something she was really liking. Something she wanted explore further. The girl wasn't new to men, having learned what great power a little flirting contained - she liked to think she had what they liked and used it on occasion to sway. Perhaps it would work with him to? "No wife, huh?"
 
Idly looking over the list Jared sighed and took the pad from her as she asked again about his wife, or lack there of. “No lass, no family.” He said with a soft sigh afterward. “I would hate to think that not marrying by my age would be a disappointment to anyone, especially towards ones own father.” Jared ripped off the small piece of paper, crumpled it up and threw it into the kitchen. “I guess we will try that one again tomorrow.” He said as he stood up. “All the doors and windows are padlocked. I would refrain from trying to leave.” He said as he popped his neck from side to side.

Pointing to the room to the left hand side of the hallway he smiled. “That's yours for your stay here. There are some clothes around your size I assume in there, I will be in the room across the hall and the bathroom is shared, with no lock.” Jared shook his head. “And before you get any ideas I didn't take the lock off.” He sighed and stretched a little. Turning his back to her he smiled.

“I think I am done asking questions for the night, what say we get some sleep lass?” He asked with a soft smile pulling his now untied tie off from around his neck. His eyes sleepy and half closed he smiled and nodded. “Good night miss Pondelli.” He said as he leaned down and picked up the weapon parts off the table and then headed for the room he had said was his.
 
A smug smile stole her when he crumpled the paper and tossed it, completely satisfied with the response. A mental score:

Velma - 1
Jared - 0! Ha!

Then again, he did have her locked up in this house. She wondered how that calculated in the scoring then forgot to care, wanting too much to celebrate in her small victory.

"You can't be serious?" A whiny moan, "I don't get to go home?" Velma sat up slowly, not wanting to move, the drink weighing her down. And she rolled those beautiful eyes, having known it wouldn't be so simple. "Oh? You mean I'm allowed my own room?" snarky, she needed a napkin to catch all of the thick sarcasm.

Standing, she placed her hands on the small of her back, stretching. "Very well, then," and she strutted to the room, taking it in. How long would he keep her there? She opened the drawers and saw they were stocked with plenty of close.

As long as it takes.

She was sure that was what was said. She could see it now, shady men speaking shady business. Picking up a simple night slip she slid out of her gaudy dress and into the plain piece. Never body conscious, always body confident, she didn't worry about making sure doors were shut all of the way. Oh, Velma couldn't help it - it was in her blood, her very DNA, to tease. When he called goodnight she leaned against the frame of her doorway.

"That's all?" Her mouth was pulled into a lopsided grin, "You're not going to check for any boogeymen? No tucking in? Not even a bedtime story?"
 
Turning to look over at her he was a bit taken when she was standing there changing. Her bodies allure was simply stunning, every curve seemed to be proportionate to the rest of her body. He cute face, and stunning body made for a sinfully sweet weapon. Shaking his head he walked to his dresser and dropped the weapon pieces softly.

As he stood there he took off the black dress shirt and put it on a hangar before he heard her calling from the room she was in. Walking to the door the athletic built detective smiled, his second tattoo not visible still, being on his back, as he looked at her.

“What lass you're scared of ghost stories, and if I tuck you in you could get me on harassment of some sort I am sure.” Jared smirked a little, his own mind loving the idea of running his hands down her body gently although tucking her into bed was the last thing on his mind right now.

He sighed and shook his head. “Go to sleep Miss Pondelli.”
 
"Mmm," she hummed, her posture casual in the door frame. Velma was leaning to the side, one arm hanging limply while the other hooked and held onto her jutted hip. "Yummy!" The girl made no secret in her observant gaze, letting it wander wherever her wicked little heart desired.

"All of these intimidation tactics and suddenly what I might say matters?" That smile of hers wanted more, "I thought it was going to be completely he-said she-said when I got out of here. Isn't that what this whole house it about? When I'm finally out I'll just be some no-good, lying mafia daughter and you some well to do detective. Where's the competition? Of course every one is going to believe you - the law has no jurisdiction here. You're allowed to do whatever, right?"

She was quiet for a minute, letting anything she might have said soak in - see if he'd bite. "Besides, sometimes I like to be scared." Velma suddenly moved the dead arm of hers. Reaching out, she traced the tattoo in his arm with a perfectly polished nail. "You said there was another one. You said I could see it if I answered your questions." That tone of hers was laced with more than innocent curiosity, "Well?" and her blue eyes flew up to him, the painted lop-sided smile persisting.
 
Jared watched her young body as she sauntered over to him he smirked as he nail fell onto his arm. "Well lass, I don't think you answered me honestly." Jared said letting a smirk rise to his lips once more as her baby blue eyes landed on his face. "As for what this house is for, well it's more for protection. I am pretty sure if your people knew I was here, interviewing you then I would be an unhappy individual at the end of this. If people outside of both our organizations know you're here then that's some incentive to find you. Then neither of us are happy." Jared smiled as he moved a step back from her.

He turned around so the tattoo on his backs was shown to her, the green, white and gold flag shown off quite well in the light of the bedroom. "This is something I got because of my family I left in Ireland. I know where I came from, but I also know where I need to go lass." He said with a soft sigh at the end of his sentence. "So tell me, I know you had the bootleg in the limo, do you have any illegal ink?"

With his last question he turned around to face her once more though this time he moved away to his bed and set on the edge of it. Leaning over he untied his shoes and kicked the polished black leather shoes off and straightened them next to the bed while he watched her. Not knowing if she was playing a game with him or if she was coming onto him he just waited, hoping for the latter.
 
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