Not for you (FIN)

On that first day back in New York I also got to know the rest of Memphis' team, or rather, what was left of them:

Otto, a brilliant and witty old mechanic; Sphinx, a guy who wouldn't talk, worked at a morgue and scared the shit out of me by just being there and, of course, Memphis himself, who was nothing like anything I would have imagined a car booster to be.

There had once been more on that team, I learned; but they all had steady jobs now.

Otto's garage was just amazing. That guy was specialized in restaurating old cars, and I instantly knew that Michael would love to be here. Dom and Memphis had 'manly things to do', as they liked to put it, so I ended up with Sway.

Not that I would have minded; but Sway insisted on taking Sphinx with us to go car shopping and I felt eerie creeps running up and down my spine with him on the back seat of our car while we drove from dealer to dealer to see what they got.

Finally, at the fifth dealer, Sway was already impatient because I wouldn't want to decide for one of the larger US cars she preferred, I discovered something in the corner of the place. Sphinx was staying in the car all the time, face unreadable, not saying a word.

"Sway!" I squeaked girlish. "Lookie!"

"Gods, a Pacer. Noooo...." She murmured when she saw what I was running to.

The poor thing was in even more poor condition and had seen better days, probably even while being at the dealer. I had to remove a broken old wooden sign from its roof before I could see it properly.

"If that engine still runs, you can call me Bill." Sway stated, arms crossed.

"Oh gods lookie! Those windows! And the cute headlights! I have to paint lashes over them!" I couldn't get over it. "The cuteness! I want to paint it candy pink!"

"It's a fucking wreck, Dana." Sway said. "They'd have to pay if you take it."

"I want it." I said in my usual stubborn way and saw Sphinx getting out of the car; the dealer just came from his trailer.

"Ladies! Can I help you?" The dealer said, approaching us.

"This... junk. Does it run?" Sway said.

"Sure it runs, but I have something more suitable for you." He smiled his best salesman smile.

"Like...?" Sway said.

"Nice LeBaron convertible?"

"That's not nice. A Hemicuda would be nice. A LeBaron is fucking boring; this one here is at least sort of... entertaining." Sway said. "We want to know what you'll give us if we remove this junk from this yard."

"Ladies!" The salesman laughed. "I really don't think that..." He finally noticed the shadow next to his own on the floor and spun around, being directly confronted with the unemotional face of Sphinx.

"Like I said, we'd like to remove that junk from your yard if it still runs." Sway smiled sweetly, and Sphinx nodded to make her point, staring the other man down. The salesman practically ran back to the trailer and returned minutes later with shaking hands, a spare canister and keys.

"D-don't know if this is still running. Was already there when I started this job five years ago..." He stuttered, fumbling with the keys in the hole.

The Pacer was still running. The brakes needed work, the interior needed to be replaced badly because it obviously had become wet at some point of time and smelled like a swamp, the rust had done a good amount of work on the chassis and it definitely needed air on the tires - probably new tires, too - but other than that, it was running.

"See, that's why I wanted to take Sphinx with us. He's always making such a good impression on salesmen." Sway giggled when we watched that very same salesman an hour later moving various cars on the yard to be able to remove the Pacer from the corner it was trapped in.

"Yes, good impression." I grinned and stuffed the hundred dollars I got from the salesman into the pocket of my trousers. "Funny, Sphinx didn't say a thing or move besides walking to us. Not many people make good impression while doing so few."

Sphinx raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Oh, and I never knew I could get a car from a dealer with him paying me to take it. Guess I'll have to go more shopping with you two." I laughed. Sphinx suddenly seemed less scaring, shrugging again with the slightest hint of something that, in an evolved state, could have been interpreted as a slight smile; the first trace of an emotion I had seen on his face the whole day.

Sphinx was dismissed with Sway's car; she and I just made sure that he followed us until we had safely gotten to a gasoline station with the Pacer. We fixed the air pressure on the tires - the poor thing was more or less driving on the rims - and while I was effortlessly trying to clean the interior a bit, Sway made some phone calls. She was finished by the time the tank was refilled, too.

"And now what?" I said.

"Now we'll get you some other clothes and I'll introduce you to your new employer." She answered as if she had just casually told me that we were about to have coffee and cake.

"Wha- today? Now?" My eyes widened.

"You still want to help or not?" She said, raising one eyebrow.

I breathed out slowly. "I do. You do keep in mind that Dom and the others must under no circumstances know about this, right?"

"Right. And now - clothes. Get into that freaking little new car of yours - if one can call that rolling trashcan a car, that is." She said, shrugging and pouting, already getting in, slamming the door shut.

Sway made me drive to a second hand shop - expensive second hand shop, but nevertheless. She explained to me that I had to look like someone who had some sort of class, but that I shouldn't look as if I had too much money. Or money left, that was. Which was the reason why we didn't go and buy new clothing; she said Verone would know the difference.

"He'll know a lot of things from the way you behave. Don't think he's stupid; never; that would be dangerous. We'll have to come up with a background story for you; one that he can check on."

"I can't really play the caring housewife." I said, trying on another combination.

"You won't have to. Told him you're a distant relative of mine who spent most of her life in Europe. Told him that you had a rich boyfriend who died but didn't leave you with too much money because he had ruined his once thriving business. That you came back to the states some months ago, with nothing but a car and some belongings. Also told him you've already traded your car in for that poor excuse of a Pacer and some money. That you can work on cars like I can, but that you definitely and desperately need a job because you wouldn't get along too well with Memphis and the others, so the garage was not an option."

Clever, I thought, really clever. "And what did he reply?"

"He asked if you looked half as good as I do. I said you looked better." She grinned, leaving me staring at her wide eyed.

"Liar!" I snorted. "What kind of job is that if the employer picks you by the way you look?"

"A good one. Guess that guy needs a bit of company. Wasn't even necessary to scare away the poor cleaner." She chuckled.

"How far is that 'company' supposed to go?"

"He officially occupies you as a 'car cleaner'. Other than that, it's probably up to you what you are willing to do with him. He won't cage you, you won't be around too long for that. He looks good, has taste and money; the only thing you should be careful about is that he absolutely doesn't tolerate disobeying. He'll want you to want him, he loves those games. Tried that on me, but I let him know that I belong to Memphis, so... just see that you can delay him actually getting you for about five days, that's all."

"Wonderful." I muttered. "Why do I have the feeling that I'm a damn slave who is about to be sold?"

"You wanted to help, so... take it or leave it."

"I'll take it." I grumbled.

"But you won't take that." She exclaimed, pointing at my clothes.

"Why, it's comfortable. Plus, it's D&G." I said, looking at the long flaring black pants and the shirt.

"It's covering most of you. You won't take that." She insisted. "You do know how to make someone want you, right?"

"I do, but that hasn't been a subject until two minutes ago."

"I'll pick your clothes." She sighed and walked over to one of the racks. "This..." she pulled out a hanger, "...looks much better."

"Sway..." I said, taking a step back.

"Yes dear?" She smiled at me nonchalant.

"If Dom ever catches me wearing this..."

"Then you can tell him that he doesn't own you." She grinned. "Should perhaps just keep for yourself who you bought this for."

"Right." I grumbled and took the hanger from her. "Besides, I can still blame it on you."

"Ah, that's also a possibility." She laughed. "I just have to show you around some bars and clubs here."

"Which just gives me the perfect excuse to dress you up as well, sister." I grinned and walked over to the racks.

"Badass guy. Evil. And clever. Don't be deceived by his looks or manners." Sway hissed when we got out of the car two hours and a hairdresser stop later at Verone's house.

"Believe me, that type I recognize in total darkness." I said, setting up the best smile I had available.

The house didn't look as expensive as I thought it would be. Small wooden house, two stories high. Too well clipped lawn. Suburbia. Not the place where I would expect any of the 'badass guys', as Sway had put it, to live. But then again this was probably either intentionally or due to the lack of time that guy had so far.

I looked over to Sway. Gone were the twisted strands, the hair carefully brushed into long blonde locks. Gone were also the comfortable but too casual clothes, replaced by a short denim skirt and halter top. I could tell that she wasn't too comfortable running around like this but enjoyed it at the same time. Paradox, because I felt the same way with the black shorts and deep V-neck shirt she had chosen for me. Not too much, not exactly too few either. And damn, that stuff had cost more, even in its used condition, than what I would have spent on a full wardrobe.

"Showtime." Sway murmured when knocking at the door.

The door was opened, just a bit. Sway just smiled at the small space in which I really couldn't recognize anything. Then we were allowed to enter, the person who had opened was hidden by the door.

Approximately fifteen feet long hallway, straight forward. Kitchen to the right, stairs to the left. Living room straight. I tried to memorize as much as I could, which, as I thought, was probably totally useless because Sway obviously hadn't been in that house for the first time. The guy behind the door was a big Latino man. As Sway didn't pay much attention to him, I didn't either.

Walking down the hallway, six steps from the door. Big living room expanding to the right; probably fifteen times twenty feet across. Sofa, table, armchair with the back to us. Someone sitting in it. I noticed a slight shift in Sway's movements when she saw him and instantly knew that this was Verone.

The moment he turned around and looked at us was the point when I realized that we would be dead if we made any mistake. That guy would kill us without even blinking. I think I never saw eyes as cold as his, and his smile and good looks couldn't distract me for a second. No fear, I thought. If he sees that you're scared he'll kill you. The gun that was tucked into the back of his trousers didn't exactly improve my mood.

"Carter!" Sway chanted, and I frowned mentally for a moment.

"Sway." It was a statement.

"May I introduce you two? This is Dana, Dana; this is Carter Verone."

"Hello Mr. Verone, nice to meet you." I smiled while he walked past my outstretched hand, circling around us, looking at us. Shrugging I dropped my hand. I didn't like the way he looked at us, looked at me. Reminded me of a butcher looking at pig's halves in a slaughterhouse.

No way could I fool that guy, so I decided to give in to my instincts. Tell him the truth, at least to a certain extend. No use in trying to fool him.

"See anything you like?" I snapped. "Perhaps you'd like to have a passport photograph so that you can keep looking when I'm gone."

I heard Sway inhale next to me while I looked to the other side, just to catch his eyes. He stared at me, practically pierced me with his gaze. I stared back, my eyes never leaving his. If I was to die here and now I'd want to die proud.

Then he stood before me, his face barely two inches away from mine.

"You're looking for a job. What can you do?" He said, expression unreadable.

"Know my way around cars, specialized in bodywork. Can operate and maintain computers. Speak a few languages." I said.

"What languages?"

"English, German, French. Bit of Latin, bit of Spanish, bit of Italian."

"Can you cook?"

That's a joke, right? Sway, what the hell did you tell him? I thought.

"I could try but I can't guarantee that you won't suffer from food poisoning afterwards."

"Housekeeping?"

"If you need new wallpapers, then yes. If you need someone mopping the floor, then, no."

"What would you need to fit a bigger engine into a car?"

Testing me, are you? "Depends on the car, but good brakes would be a good start."

"Can you dance?"

Strange question. "Waltz, Cha-cha-cha, the basics. I take no responsibility for my partner's shoes. Can dance by myself quite well, though." I said and thought of Dom. Damn, you owe me, Dominic, I thought to myself.

He stared at me for some more seconds.

"How long do you need to clean a car?"

"Depends on the condition. Washing, waxing, interior cleaning, floor washing and maintaining, engine-"

"How long for the full program?" He interrupted.

"Five or six hours if it's not too wrecked."

A slow smile crept over his face, finally becoming a full grin. Damn, if I wouldn't feel that this guy was so dangerous I would have considered him to be beautiful when he smiled.

One of his hands was reaching to his back. For a short moment I thought he'd pull the gun out and considered saying good-bye to the world, but somehow I managed not to move and still stare into his eyes.

A bundle of money was tucked into my V-neck a second later. "Buy the stuff you think fit to clean a good car. See you tomorrow at eight. And get some new clothes, we'll go out tomorrow afternoon. Never liked that 2005 Prada collection, go and get D&G's latest stuff. Fits you better."

He turned around, walked over to his chair and sat down. I blinked several more times until Sway elbowed me, making me realize that we had just been dismissed. I opened my mouth to say something, but she pulled on my sleeve, shaking her head. No.

A bit stunned I left the house, walking behind her. We got in the car and I just drove off, not really knowing where to. When I had driven for several minutes, taking us far enough away from the house, I finally hit the brake hard and glared at Sway.

"Are you insane?" I shouted at her.

"Told you he's dangerous." She shrugged.

"Oh Gods!" I whispered, burying my face in my hands. "I honestly don't think I'll survive tomorrow, Sway. He'll simply kill me as soon as he finds out-"

"Don't let him find it out." She said, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"How the hell can you be so damn calm?" I frowned at her.

"Well, see..." She smiled. "When talking to people like him I always picture them in pink lace underwear. Incredibly relaxing."

"What?"

"Pink lace underwear. No matter how dangerous someone looks or speaks, they would always look hilarious in pink lace underwear. Just mentally picture people like this before you start speaking to them. As soon as you manage to look at them without laughing out loud, then, you'll have no fear or respect for them left."

I snorted, then laughed. "For my life I can't picture Verone in pink lace underwear."

"Well, computer expert, perhaps it's time to do some digital image faking then? I'm sure the FBI would be glad to help out with some surveillance photos..."

"Yeah sure." I snorted. "And if Dom catches me doing this, I'm dead. If Verone catches me doing this, I'm dead, too. Any way, I'm dead; quite relaxing if you don't have a choice..."

"We could bury you in pink underwear?" She suggested.

"Just if it's by D&G. You know, their latest stuff fits me better." I laughed, imitating Verone. I remembered the money in my shirt and pulled it out. "Holy shit!" I stared at the bundle. "That's a lot of money."

"As I've said, money is not exactly Verone's problem. Shopping?"

"Shopping, I have a job tomorrow." I said. "And you go and tell me where I can get any Mequiar's or Liquid Glass around here, I'll need that for his precious car..."