Guns, Hold the Roses [Séamus]

[Deleted]

our good and evil both are brief

T

here are questions that tend to haunt those who ask them. They serve to trouble the conflicted soul that can't find their answer, surfacing whenever they see fit. Why, exactly, am I doing this? For the money? For Ivan and Katyusha? Likely each of those - and family always measured up better than money ever could. A horrendously cheesy concept for Natalya to admit, but to value family was in her blood.

It wasn't getting her closer to them, nor was her name quite up to Ivan's or Katyusha's caliber - but it was a step. She had the skills and she knew she had to do something with them. It never mattered to her what her patrons or trainees did with the weapons she gave them. Her weapons were like children that she was placing in the hands of others, drawn only by the promise that those hands knew (or would learn) what they were doing. Natalya certainly knew what she was doing, but it hardly crossed her mind to use them as, say, Sera would. To kill. If that's really what they wanted her to do, if that would really please them... well. For now, Natalya left that business to everyone else. Some people, with whom she shouldn't have to associate herself, deserved it.

She assumed James Kelly (or whoever he happened to be) knew what he was doing. If not, she would not be responsible for a bomb assemblage going awry and denoting in his face. Days in advance had been allotted for the woman to gather what was needed - all while, again, questioning why she does this for people - and ensure that all entries on the list of 'ingredients' were checked off. Bombs were just a step above what Natalya primarily dealt with: blades and firearms. What she had prepared today were the disassembled components of a low explosive (or a few, however he preferred) and a semiautomatic, just as this man had requested. They were packed into a carefully designed briefcase, as one might see any businesswoman carry about.

She and this man weren't on overly familiar terms. Those Natalya trusted were dealt with at her own home - those who requested hasty business were often dealt with elsewhere. She shouldn't need every mindless criminal knowing where she lives, although it wasn't unlikely that some would find out either way. At least Natalya knew how to protect herself.

She chose Fitzrovia that day, which was not her place of residence but an ideal spot for 'business'. Having arrived by bus, the Belarusian carried that briefcase in careful hands, her face at its utmost neutral expression so as not to raise concern. She had tied her hair back (which was a rare occurrence), the style accentuated by an ever present ribbon - it was navy blue to match the blazer over her shirt. Muggy weather in London was hardly ever expected. The temperature was cool and relieving. Just another half-hour or so of business. Things would go smoothly.

She found a bench upon which to seat herself, her back propped against worn strips of wood. The suitcase rested readily on the woman's lap, and so Iceblade began to wait.

Word Count: 529
Tags: @tiger
Notes: xxx

by worldie for jen

[Deleted]

The deal had been organised by one of his men, who had given Séamus the exact time, date and location of where he would be meeting with the Iceblade. Everything was sorted, and in fact the weapons dealer had been rather swift in assembling all the “products” he had required. Usually, these brokered deals took a good few weeks to get sorted and finalised. However, this one was no more than a few days. Just from that fact, the Tiger had a feeling that he liked this Iceblade woman, and would intend to do much more business with her later on. Especially if the good quality service remained consistent.

Fitzrovia was rather quiet that day. There were hardly any people out on the street at this time, and those that were out were too busy hurrying off to whatever destination they had in mind. On such a day, there would be hardly any witnesses. Nobody would even pay attention to the black Audi which had pulled up, nor would they turn their attention as the tall, dark Irishman stepped out of the car with a large bouquet of flowers. Séamus Ó Ceallaigh, James Kelly, the Tiger, emerged from the vehicle with a pleasant smile donning his face. His blue eyes scanned the area whilst he adjusted his tie and took in a few good lung-fulls of that fresh air – well, the closest London could get to having fresh air, before telling his driver to park the car and heading off down the street.

No more than a few steps had been taken before he clapped eyes on a solitary woman, seated on a bench and holding a brief case. To any unsuspecting civilian and passer-by, the woman would have been insignificant. Yet for Mr. Kelly, with the knowledge of the meeting arrangements, this woman was anything but insignificant. This woman must have been Iceblade.

A confident smirk played at his lips as he strode over, his icy blue eyes locked on the woman. Séamus could appreciate that she was a stunning lady – her platinum blonde hair and pale eyes gave her a rather Slavic appearance. Iceblade… the name seemed like something a snow queen would refer to herself as. Maybe that was the case.

Once he had reached the weapons dealer, Séamus simply sat down on the bench beside the woman without a single word. The large bouquet of tiger lilies; his trade-mark signature which the woman had probably been informed about by Ó Ceallaigh’s man who had organised this meeting; resting on his knees. They would serve as a clear symbol of who this strange man was: James Kelly, the Tiger. The man Iceblade would be doing business with on this day.

“I can’t help but wonder,” Séamus’ thick Irish accent eventually interrupted the silence, his words smooth and clear. “What is a beautiful woman like yourself doing alone, on a bench, on a day like this? It is a crime that some lucky bastard doesn’t have you on his arm, Miss.”

The statement was finished off with a warm smile as, for the first time since he had arrived, Ó Ceallaigh turned his head to face the woman properly, his cerulean eyes focused on her and taking in her profile. From such a position, he could admire her just a little bit more.

“Anyway, you’re probably here on business.” That comment was flippant and rather casual. Yet, the man was leaning in closer, ever so slightly, edging towards the woman’s ear. The smirk was on his face again as he leaned forward and simply whispered in her ear, “Isn’t that right, Iceblade?”