Realistic or Modern Empire City: The Irish Mob - Bonus Scenes (Closed)

[Misty Gray]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Hendrik Janssen​

Wesley visiting hadn’t been out of the ordinary, as the man often came to see Billy and Charlie. Something had seemed off this time, however. Billy hadn’t seemed quite himself and Hendrik could sense it a mile off. Thankfully, his boyfriend had told him they needed to talk, which saved Hendrik needing to push for an explanation. Of course, he was nervous about what his boyfriend needed to talk about, but he was still grateful it seemed he wasn’t going to be keeping secrets from him.

Despite appreciating the openness, Hendrik found himself worrying about what he was going to be told. Was this where Billy told him he wanted to break up with him? Whilst he trusted his boyfriend and that their feelings for each other were mutual, maybe he’d done something to upset Charlie without realising. Of course Billy would put his son’s feelings and welfare first, Hendrik wouldn’t expect otherwise. He just hoped he hadn’t done anything to upset the boy. He knew it would take time for Charlie to accept him, but Hendrik cared a lot about Billy’s child.

Hendrik had just showered and dried himself off. Wearing only his boxer shorts and with a towel draped over his shoulders to finish towel-drying his hair, he stepped out of the en-suite into the bedroom. He started drying his hair with the towel but quickly stopped when he noticed Billy looking anxious whilst perched on the end of their bed. “John?” he replied when Billy spoke his name. When his boyfriend said he needed to tell him something, Hendrik slowly nodded. “Okay…” he quietly replied and draped the towel over the back of the nearby chair. When the other man warned him it was something big, Hendrik instinctively retrieved one of his t-shirts from the chest of drawers and put it on. Perhaps it was his deep down insecurities creeping to the surface, but if he was about to get dumped, he didn’t want to be half-naked whilst it happened.

Hendrik sat on the bed next to Billy, turning himself into a position where he could see him. “What… what’s wrong, John?” Hendrik delicately asked, his heart racing in his chest as he dreaded the next word’s out of the Londoners mouth.

 

[Pyroclast]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Billy King​

When Billy first moved to the Netherlands, it took him a long time to get used to being called John. It made him feel like he was walking in another man's shoes, living another man's life. It wasn't him. In time, of course, he learned to respond to it - he even thought it suited him a bit. But since he had been presented with the option of adopting his original identity and going back to his home city of London, the name John once again sounded wrong. Hendrik, almost as visibly nervous as Billy, pulled on a t-shirt and came to sit beside him. He asked him what was wrong, calling him John. It struck Billy with a pang of guilt. He was about to reveal to the man he loved that he had been betraying his trust for years.

"Hendrik," he started, turning slightly on the bed to face him. He wanted to hold his hand but didn't dare. "I never told you much about my life back in London, did I?" He wasn't sure why he felt the need to phrase it as a question, since he already knew the answer was no. "Okay, um…" Deep breath. "So you know I was raised by my uncle? Well he was…he was a powerful business mogul, of the…underground kind. If you catch my drift." Billy looked him in the eyes, trying to gauge whether his boyfriend was following him. "And my brothers and I, we sorta worked under him. On the side, I mean - we had other careers, too, back then. I was an architect." He looked down to the floor between his knees. It had been years since his last panic attack but his chest was growing tight and he was starting to feel a bit sick.

“So the reason I never told you any of this was ‘cause we all had to go into hiding. You ever heard of Interpol?” He looked back up to meet Hendrik's eyes, but couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. “The international police, basically. 12 years ago, they were after me and my family. An insider group helped us escape - told the rest of Interpol we were dead, and gave us new identities and new addresses. I ain’t had contact with my family since.” His voice was growing thick with emotion, but he knew right now it was Hendrik who deserved to be upset the most. “I had to keep it a secret to protect me and my son, and the rest of my family out there,” he explained. “So I couldn’t tell ya’ nothin’. But when Wesley came yesterday…” God, Hendrik didn’t even know who Wesley was. Billy’s leg was bouncing up and down. “Yeah, so Wesley ain’t just a family friend of ours. He’s an Interpol agent, one of the ones who helped me go into hidin’. He’s been checkin’ on me over the years, and yesterday…when he came over, yesterday, he said…that I could go back to London.”

Finally, he looked up into Hendrik’s eyes, his own beginning to prick with tears. “Sorry, I’m sayin’ too much at once…is any of this makin’ sense?”

 

[Misty Gray]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Hendrik Janssen​

Hendrik shook his head when Billy pointed out he hadn't told him much about his life back in London. The Dutchman always believed those memories were likely painful or upsetting for Billy, so he figured he'd open up more about the life he'd left back in London when he was ready to. Perhaps now was that time, judging by how the conversation seemed to be going. Hendrik's eyes widened expectantly as Billy hesitated. He nodded along when he reminded him that he was raised by his uncle in London. "Mogul? Underground..." he repeated his boyfriend's words. Underground first made him imagine the rail network he knew about London from movies and conversations. But with the tone and phrasing Billy was using, Hendrik soon realised that wasn't what he was referring to. "Like, illegal business?" he asked before receiving confirmation. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to process what he was being told. "You have brothers?" he asked, trying to keep up with the new revelations that were coming to light. "Architect. Like you are now," he said, grateful at least one thing still made sense to him about the man he loved. "What is all of this? This is not you, John."

Hendrik clasped his hands together, resting them on his lap as Billy continued to explain why he'd been keeping secrets - lying - to him. He looked down to the floor before hearing another word he was unsure of. "Interpol?" he asked, looking back to Billy and shaking his head. "I don't know it. Another criminal underground place?" The clarification that it was related to the international police caused a clear panic on Hendrik's face. Had he somehow been dragged into something illegal by Billy without even knowing. His mind was racing trying to think what kind of crime he could have unknowingly committed. His boyfriend then explained how a group had helped Billy and his family escape, giving them all new identities and addresses. Hendrik shook his head in frustration when he explained he'd had to keep it all secret to protect himself, Charlie, and the rest of his family. When he then heard that Wesley was also a part of the secret, Hendrik got up to his feet and anxiously paced on the spot for a brief moment, running his hand through his damp hair before quickly shaking his head. He stopped still and looked directly to Billy when he said Wesley had visited so he could tell him he could go back to London.

When asked if it was making sense, Hendrik shook his head before quickly nodding. "Yes. You are a criminal and a liar. But what am I in all of this? I'm not protected, so now these international police, will they think I've broken the law too? Of course you'll want to go back to your family in London, but what? Now you get your old life back and leave me here, John? You're not even John, are you? I'm in love with a lie!" Hendrik realised, the tears suddenly streaming down his face. "Was I just some joke to you and Wesley? The idiot who fell in love with a man who doesn't even exist... Do I mean anything to you or am I just a... an extra in your made up life?"

 

[Pyroclast]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Billy King
​

Billy could be confrontational when he needed to be - but he found it so much easier in a work environment. As an architect, he never got anxious during meetings. Nervous, at most, but anxiety wouldn’t touch him. Panic, never. And as for the less legitimate business that he had been involved in, he had even managed to intimidate people during confrontations, perfectly confident at asserting himself when it was his place to do so. Family matters, on the other hand…those never came easy. Meeting his biological father for the first time, coming out to his family one person at a time, explaining to them that he had unexpectedly become a father - all of that had induced a significant level of panic and discomfort. And now, in a way, he was coming out all over again; a closely guarded secret that he kept bottled up inside and had to deal with alone unless he was with Wesley, that he was now revealing to his innocent, unsuspecting boyfriend. Even though it wasn’t his fault that he had had to keep the truth to himself to protect himself and his family, he still felt like he was stabbing the man he loved in the back.

Not unsurprisingly, he wasn’t taking it well. Watching Hendrik take it all in was utter hell. He sounded disgusted that Billy had been involved in organised crime, and was clearly disturbed to hear that he had been living in hiding from Interpol. Billy watched him get to his feet, too anxious to sit still - or too disgusted to sit close to Billy. Hendrik began to pace and run his hands through his hair, and Billy’s eyes filled with tears. Guilt and shame coursed through him, along with a fear that Hendrik would leave him because of who he really was. He wouldn’t blame him if he did, either.

The man called him a criminal and a liar, and even though Billy knew he was right, it still stung to hear him say it. Just as Hendrik had been forced to hear the deeply unsettling truth, Billy was forced to hear him throw it back in his face, with the man even beginning to cry. Billy bit back a sob, tears now streaming down his face, too, as Hendrik questioned who ‘John’ really was, and who he himself was to Billy.

“You’re not a joke!” Billy cried, jumping to his feet and hovering a few feet away. “You were never a joke to me, Hendrik, never! Look, I had to make some kind of normal life for myself and Charlie, but I didn’t use you - I fell in love with you. I was given a second chance at life, and it cost me my entire family. Do you have any idea how isolatin’ it is, to know nobody? To lose everyone?” Billy broke into a sob and had to turn away. Knowing Hendrik might walk out on him at any moment, he made a quick job of swallowing his cries so he could turn back to him. A few seconds passed as he gazed at the man, trying to steady his breathing.

“You’re right,” he uttered, his voice deep and strained. “My name ain’t John Campbell. It’s Billy King. William Christopher King.” He allowed a moment for the name to sink in, for Hendrik to look at him and attach the name to his face. “I’m an uncle, a brother, a brother-in-law and a nephew. I have two older brothers and two younger sis-” He swallowed hard. “One younger sister.” His hand automatically moved to his stomach as a cramp suddenly hit him and twisted his gut. There was so much Hendrik didn’t know, and even though Billy had been keeping his true identity and past a secret the whole time, he had never felt like less of a stranger than he did now.

“Look, you are completely innocent and safe in all of this. The cops ain’t got nothin’ on ya’, Hendrik - they ain’t even lookin’ for me. ‘Til now they thought I was dead, and if I go back to London I’ll be workin’ with them to help dismantle another organisation in exchange for a pardon. That’s the deal. And I’ll do it, to see my family again. Charlie deserves to know ‘em, Hendrik…it’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.”

He took a step forward, though still maintained some distance between them. “You ain’t no extra in my life, babe. I love you. And I get it, you know…if you don’t wanna stick around after hearin’ this.” He almost choked on the words as they left him. “But if for whatever reason you still wanna give us a chance…I’d love it if ya’ came to live in London with me and Charlie.”

 

[Misty Gray]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Hendrik Janssen​

Hendrik kept his eyes fixed on Billy as the other man got to his feet to assure him he wasn’t a joke. Whilst Hendrik had always accepted that Billy's son would could first, when the man told him had had to make a normal life for himself and Charlie, it didn't feel like he could accept that as the excuse this time. Not after what he was now hearing, that everything he knew about the man he loved had been a lie. Billy assured him that he didn't use him, that he fell in love with him. Hendrik looked into the man's eyes for a moment, believing the man loved him. It was easier for Billy though, because he had fallen in love with a real person - the real Hendrik Janssen. Hendrik, on the other hand, had fallen in love with John Campbell, who it now turned out wasn't a real person. When Billy asked him if he knew how isolating it was to know nobody and to lose everyone, Hendrik silently nodded his head. Whilst it seemed the circumstances were far different, he had some idea. Billy hadn't left his family and home by choice, but Hendrik to some extent had made the decision to disown his own family and leave Eindhoven. From years of his family teasing him when he was an overweight kid, to his parents then disapproving of his sexuality, Hendrik had chosen to walk out on them and move to Utrecht by himself, to start a new life in a place where he didn’t know anybody. He made friends over time and had boyfriends over the years, but it was with Billy that he finally felt happy and settled.

Watching Billy break out into a sob and turn away made Hendrik keep his own experience of losing his family to himself, knowing the circumstances were different. When the man turned back to him, Hendrik sucked in a breath to push back his own upset, wanting to hear more of the truth for as long as he could hold on without breaking down. His boyfriend told him that his name wasn't John Campbell but it was Billy... William Christopher King. "Billy..." Hendrik repeated, having never spoken that name before. "Billy King," he spoke again as he studied the man before him, trying to match the new name to the familiar face he'd grown to love over the last two years. It was a name that seemed to suit him better than John had, but at the same time, he felt like he didn't know enough about Billy to know if it suited him. When the man told him about his positions in his family and of the family members he had, Hendrik nodded along. It seemed like a lot of family to be dragged away from. "I bet your brothers and sister miss you," he quietly told him, "like you must miss them," he softly added. "Of course you have to go back to London, to your family." Hendrik was fully aware he'd only been in Billy's life for a couple of years, which was nothing in comparison to the years Billy had both been with and been separated from his family. It was a no-brainer that he would choose his family over him and the life in Utrecht he didn't choose to have.

He listened as Billy reassured him that he hadn't been implicated at all, that the cops wouldn't be after him for anything. When he explained that he'd be returning to London to help Interpol dismantle a crime group in exchange for a pardon, Hendrik raised a curious, yet concerned eyebrow. It sounded risky, but Billy seemed intent on doing it if only so he and Charlie could see their family again. He wanted nothing more than for the boy to know the rest of his family. "Then you should both go," he said, taking a couple of steps back when Billy walked towards him.

What Billy said next surprised him. He still wanted him to stick around in his life - his real life. The life he would be returning to in London. Hendrik was confused until Billy went on to say he'd love for him to join them in London, assuming he still wanted to give their relationship a chance. Hendrik loved Billy, even if he'd known him as John. It felt good to know the man still wanted to be with him, that he wasn't intending on leaving him behind in Utrecht along with his fake name and false life. Yet, it still felt hard to accept. There was a lot to take in.

Hendrik sat back on the edge of the bed, looking up to Billy as he placed his hand on the empty space beside him, inviting him to sit next closeby once again. "Billy, this is a lot to understand," he said, keeping his voice calm and composed as he studied his face. Despite the building upset within him, he was fighting to keep the tears back so he could get his head around things. "You said you would be pardoned if you helped this Interpol in London. What would you be pardoned for? What crimes did you and your family commit?" he asked. Hendrik wasn't an idiot, so he knew they must be serious to have involved everything the agency had done to separate the family and force them into hiding. He just needed to hear it from Billy, to know what he could be letting himself in for if he did join him in London. "And what would I be in all of this?"

 

[Pyroclast]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Billy King​

Billy had never seen Hendrik look at him the way he was looking at him now. Like he was afraid of him, almost. Like he was some stranger who had broken into the house. He backed away from Billy when he stepped towards him and told him he should take Charlie and go to London, clearly removing himself from the equation. It was hard to tell if the man didn’t want to go with them, or if he simply didn’t think Billy wanted him to; either way, it hurt to hear.

Anxiety kept him rooted to the spot, keeping him tense to the point that he could hardly breathe as normal. He watched as his boyfriend took a seat on the edge of the bed, finding himself in anticipation of being told that he wanted out of their relationship and, effectively, out of Billy’s life altogether. Hendrik had once been a professional fighter, but Billy couldn’t imagine him taking to the violent life of organised crime that he had come from. Even he himself was sure he wouldn’t be in that crowd had it not been for his love and loyalty to his family.

After some hesitation, Billy took Hendrik’s invitation to sit beside him. Hearing the man address him by his real name was odd, and he almost wanted to tell him to keep calling him John for now. As much as he wanted to shed his fake persona and just be himself, he wasn’t quite sure who he was after 12 years of living under a different name. Hendrik told him it was a lot to take in and Billy nodded, not quite meeting his eye as if he was some abashed little boy being told off. “I know,” he mumbled, fighting to keep back the tears. “I’m sorry.”

Hendrik’s next questions rendered him silent. What could he say? What should he say? As his mind backtracked through memories of his past life, Billy leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs, his hands coming together between them. Before he could figure out an answer to Hendrik’s question about what crimes his family had committed, the man moved on to ask him where he would fit in if they all moved to London. At least he was considering it as an option.

“Look I ain’t gonna force you to come with me,” Billy said with a sniff, reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes before they could fall. “I know how hard it is to uproot your life and move somewhere unfamiliar, away from everything…but if you came with us, I would do everythin’ I could to help you adjust. You won’t have to be a part of this operation or nothin’ like that - I’ll find you a job as a chef, or a personal trainer, or both. Whatever you want, babe, I promise.” He sat up and turned to look into Hendrik’s eyes. He wanted to touch him, take his hand, something…but he didn’t feel like he ought to, not until Hendrik showed him that he was okay.

“I don’t want you feelin’ like I’m choosin’ my family over you, ‘cause it ain’t like that,” he implored. “I don’t want to lose you through this, it’s just…this has been the first chance I’ve ever been given to see them again. Even when my sister died, I couldn’t…” His throat closed up and he had to take a few seconds before he found his voice again. He had never said those words aloud before. “This is probably the only chance I’ll ever get, and if I don’t take it…I’ll never see ‘em again.” He looked down into his lap with a frown, suddenly bitter that Harper died before he ever got to see her. She should have been going back to London, too. It was going to be strange meeting up with his brothers again and not seeing her among them. That is, if they all decided to opt into the agreement.

“So, yeah…the reason this is all happening now,” he forced out, hands wringing together. “There’s this big, family-run tech company in London that my uncle used to do business with. Carter Technologies. I don’t know the details, but they’re apparently out of control, and Interpol - who now know that we ain’t dead after all - have called us back to help them sorta’...sort out the situation. Through whatever means necessary. And we’ll have immunity while we do it.” Billy winced at his own explanation, realising that it probably didn’t make much sense to Hendrik. “So, I told you my family was powerful back then. Mainly through racketeering and bringing in illegal goods. Well, we were connected to some other pretty powerful organisations, ones more powerful than ours…and, our relationships got kind of messy. Out of hand. Violent.”

His throat closed up again. Although Hendrik had asked, Billy wanted to deny him an answer, instead telling him that it wasn’t relevant now, that he didn’t need to actually know what crimes they were being investigated for. But he knew that urge came from his own selfish fear of turning Hendrik off him completely. The fact was, if he would be coming to London and mixing with the rest of Billy’s family, he would need to understand the context of what they had been through together. “There was a war,” he began. “My nephew was kidnapped and my sister, the one who’s…passed away since we were split up, was severely injured. My brother's club was bombed, and a beam fell and crushed her - I was helping him rebuild the place before I moved here. They abducted him and almost killed him, and they shot me in the shoulder…"

Billy looked up at Hendrik when he realised what he had just admitted, with guilt written all over his face. He had told him years ago, back when Hendrik was his personal trainer, that the bullet wounds extending from his shoulder to his bicep were the results of a hostage situation he had been caught up in shortly before moving to the Netherlands, and that was why he couldn't stretch as far with his right arm and had to be mindful while working out in the gym. It didn't feel so bad lying to him when he was just his trainer but then as they grew closer, and ultimately became lovers, the lies began to feel heavier. Although it concerned him that the truth might put his boyfriend off coming back to London with him - or ever speaking to him again - he knew he couldn't sugarcoat what life had been like. And that meant he couldn't leave out the real reason he had been shot. "It was war, Hendrik," he desperately reminded him, as if it would help lessen the shock of what he was about to confess. "People were killed. That's why they shot me."

Billy's gaze once again fell to the ground, unable to bear Hendrik's reaction. “I…I…” Would it be too much for his boyfriend to take? Maybe there wasn’t any point in telling him the full truth about who he was and what he had done, since he was more than likely going to leave him once he heard it, anyway. “I killed someone,” he finally confessed. His heart was pounding and his stomach was sick - less from the guilt of killing Aidan, however, and more from the discomfort of admitting it to someone who may have once thought well of him. “A man,” he clarified. He was definitely shaking now. The grip between his hands grew tighter, almost stuck together by sweat. “A soldier - that’s what we call ‘em, the ones who willingly fight. That’s what I was, sometimes. That day, that’s what I was.” He let out a trembling exhale, trying to stave off the nausea and the urge to cry. “I get it if that changes how you feel,” he told Hendrik, his voice suddenly louder and charged with emotion. Tears crashed down his cheeks. “I know, I know, I’m not who you fell in love with! I get it. If I’m completely repulsive to you now, you can leave, but…I won’t be going for another two weeks.”

 

[Misty Gray]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Hendrik Janssen​

Hendrik looked at Billy's tearful eyes as the man said he wouldn't force him to go to London with him. Whilst he didn't want to be forced and was a man who made his own decisions, part of him wanted his boyfriend to push him to join him - to show that even if his family and seeing them did naturally come first, that he truly wanted him to be in his life back in London. He kept a neutral expression when Billy told him he understood it would be hard to uproot his life. In reality, Hendrik didn't feel like he'd be leaving much behind in Utrecht if Billy left his life. He was no longer tied into professional fighting and the work he did now wasn't something he felt he'd struggled to do elsewhere. He nodded his head when he was told he wouldn't have to be part of the Interpol operation; that he could still be a chef or personal trainer in London. "You British do need to eat better food," he said in a flat tone, despite his comment being a nod to a recurring joke he had with his English boyfriend. He met the other man's gaze as he promised he could make a living doing whatever he wanted in London.

As Billy tried to make it clear he wasn't choosing his family over him, Hendrik lowered his head to look towards the floor. He understood how important it was for him to see his family again after being separated from them for 12 years. With Billy’s mention of his sister's death and him struggling to get his words out due to his emotions, Hendrik instinctively placed a reassuring hand on his knee. After a moment of hesitation, he removed his hand from his leg and looked up to him, seeing it was clearly upsetting for him to think about. "Yes, you have to go be with your family," he quietly assured him.

Hendrik cleared his throat and straightened his posture as Billy began speaking about his family's business and the organisation they needed to help Interpol to stop. Hearing that the Carters were out of control made it clear they were dangerous and that Billy was willing to do whatever was necessary to stop them. Hendrik got the feeling that stopping the Carters wasn't the reason why Billy was intending to return to London, but it was more something he had to do in order to be back with his family again. His family were the driving force behind the decision. The fact he pointed out he'd have immunity to take action made it seem to Hendrik that it would mean breaking the law or taking risks to do so. He couldn't imagine Billy putting himself in danger and it was hard to think he could get hurt along the way.

Given the bombshells that had already been dropped on him that evening, it wasn't hard to take in when he heard Billy's family were connected to powerful organisations and illegal operations, nor that things had been violent in London. Hearing there had been a war caused Hendrik's eyes to widen. Of course, he knew it wasn't a war in the sense of countries battling and soldiers being deployed by their governments, but he still had to take a moment to process what a war meant in the context of their conversation. He was then told about some of the things that had happened to his own family members during the gang war, that people had even been killed. "That is terrible..." he trailed off, trying to imagine how it would feel to have loved ones hurt in so many ways. He once again rested a reassuring hand on Billy's knee and sent him a concerned gaze. Even though he was upset with having so many truths kept from him, he still couldn't stop himself from feeling sad for what Billy had been through and that he'd never been able to talk about it with him. Although he was taken by surprise as he learned Billy's story about the gunshot wounds was a lie, Hendrik kept his hand on his leg as he processed his words. It had been hard enough to imagine Billy being caught up in and shot during the hostage situation lie he'd been told, but to hear he received the wounds during his family's war, whilst his brother had been abducted, somehow felt even harder to imagine.

When Billy eventually admitted he'd killed someone, Hendrik unconsciously moved his hand away from his knee as he sat in a stunned silence. He couldn't imagine his boyfriend as some dangerous killer; a man who would go around killing people. When he clarified it was a man, it at least stopped his mind from wandering about the age or gender of the victim, and when he went on to mention the man he'd killed was a willing fighter from the enemy side it also removed the need to question if Billy had killed an innocent person. He slowly nodded in understanding when Billy confirmed he himself had been a soldier too. Both parties had been on opposing sides of a dangerous war and one of them had died in battle. That was how Hendrik tried to reason and make sense of it. It was easier to accept Billy as a soldier who had killed an enemy in battle than that he could be someone who killed because he wanted to. "The man died fighting in a war. A war both sides were a part of?" he rhetorically asked aloud. "You had to fight for your family, because your nephew was kidnapped and your family was getting hurt." With the suggestion he was repulsed by him, Hendrik quickly shook his head. "No. You had to help your family and if that man had to die so you or people you love could live, then that is what had to happen. It's just a lot. John, it's..." he began, stopping and clearing his throat. "Billy. It's a lot for me to understand." He wanted more than anything to hold him and console him as he cried in front of him, but Hendrik wasn't sure how he felt and if hugging Billy would be confused as him deciding nothing had changed. Maybe nothing had changed between them, but he needed time to think about it first.

Billy had told him he wouldn't be leaving for two weeks, which meant he didn't have to rush to an immediate decision. "I need time to think. I... I should stay over at my friend's tonight. I won't tell him anything, but I just need to think about all of this and I don't want to make things not comfortable for Charlie. Please give me this? This time to think first," he asked, hoping Billy wouldn't take him wanting to spend the night elsewhere as him cutting ties.

*****​

Hendrik had stayed overnight with a friend and gone to work at the gym the next day. Although he managed to work his full shift, in the back of his mind he couldn't stop thinking about Billy and everything he'd confessed to him the night before. Despite needing time to think and spending the whole day away from Billy, Hendrik had come to realise he'd made his decision even before he spent so many hours mulling over it. He may have been asking himself hundreds of questions throughout the day, but he realised they were mostly him checking he wasn't being rash and that he wasn't going to make a choice he would live to regret.

Hendrik waited until later in the evening to return home, not wanting to bump into Charlie and have to answer any awkward questions. He needed to speak with Billy alone before potentially having to explain his absence to the boy. Hendrik found Billy in the living room and stepped inside, but remained standing, hoping Billy would stand with him too. "I've been unable to stop thinking about this all day. About you. About the lies... the life you had to make up to protect your family and your freedom. Most of what I knew about your life wasn't true. Not even your name," he said, anxiously running his hand through his hair as he paused. He then met Billy's eyes as he studied the man's face, unable to deny how much he really cared about him. "But I'm in love with you. I want to know your real past and learn all about your family but it's you I love, not what made you. If you truthfully want me to come with you to London and to know your family, your life, then I want to go with you." Hendrik briefly glanced away, hoping it wasn't too late and that he hadn't pushed Billy away since last night. Looking back to him, he shrugged his shoulders. "I will find work training or cooking. That is the work I do best. But if somebody tries to hurt you or Charlie, I will not let them. I'm not certain about doing work with illegal goods, but I will help fight with you if you need me to."

 

[Pyroclast]

The 'Campbell' Residence
~ Utrecht, The Netherlands ~
Monday 8th September 1997

Billy King​

One of the things Billy loved most about Hendrik was his gentle personality. Once a fighter by trade, but always a lover by nature. He was kind, sympathetic, affectionate, and not just compared to Billy’s melodramatic and aggressive ex-boyfriend, Florian, but in his own right - though Billy was sure that if it were Florian he was admitting all of this to, it would have turned to a physical fight by now. Just like it had when Florian had found the first clues of Billy’s past and threatened to burn the photographs of his family. And yet, even without the risk of physical abuse, Hendrik’s reaction somehow hurt more. The sweet, kind man whom Billy had been deceiving from the moment they had first met didn’t deserve to have their relationship turned upside down. The hurt and concern in his voice, the way he had backed away from him, even the effort he was making to remain calm and the affectionate hand on Billy’s knee, it all made him feel horrible and undeserving of the love he had accepted from him.

At least Hendrik was doing his best to be understanding, despite the shock. Billy wished that he himself had managed to stay so composed, so that his boyfriend could react freely - perhaps be angry or upset as much as Billy believed he had a right to be. It wasn’t his intention to draw sympathy from him, but the weight of telling him, the mix of fear and relief of finally revealing the enormous secrets he had had to carry with him for the past 12 years, was too much to contain. He could only do his best to minimise his emotional display, by cupping his hands over his mouth and swallowing his sobs as best he could to keep them silent. Besides not wanting to cry in front of the man he had betrayed, the last thing he wanted to do was wake up Charlie.

With his streaming, swollen eyes fixed to the floor between his feet and his throat closed up so tight he could hardly breathe, Billy could only nod as he listened to Hendrik explain that it was a lot for him to take in. He called him John out of habit before correcting himself, which clearly demonstrated his point. There was an awkward pause, Billy still fighting to keep his cries silent, before Hendrik asked him for some time to think his options over, adding that he would spend the night at a friend's house to get some space. Billy's instinct was to nod, which he did, and he took a deep breath, moving his hands away from his mouth and rubbing them together pensively. His guilty, fearful mind was forcing him to imagine his boyfriend freaking out behind closed doors, ranting and raving to his friend, who would convince him that he would be better off breaking up with Billy. Or perhaps he would break down in tears and decide he never wanted to see Billy again. The thoughts were mechanical, just fears he had to acknowledge before he could arrive at the conclusion that no, he could trust Hendrik to come back. Whether he chose to come with him to London or to break up with him, Billy knew the man was fair and would come home again to tell him his decision, and they would have a mature conversation about it.

So, he took a deep breath, dried his eyes and looked up at Hendrik. “‘Course,” he uttered, his voice low and hoarse. He wasn’t sure what else to say on the subject, so he just reached over and held the man’s hand for a moment while he steadied his breathing. “I’m gonna go check Charlie’s glucose monitor,” he said. “Give you some space to pack an overnight bag.” It was late, and he wasn’t sure how Hendrik was going to explain turning up at a friend’s house without arousing suspicion that there were problems in his and Billy’s relationship. But he couldn’t control that, and in a couple of weeks, it wouldn’t matter what people thought, anyway. Still with Hendrik’s hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed his fingers. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for this. For everything.”

* * * * *​

The next morning, Billy saw Charlie off to school. It was normal enough for them not to see Hendrik in the mornings as he often had to be at the gym before Charlie even had to get up, so thankfully the boy had no reason to suspect anything unusual going on between them. Billy hadn’t told him anything about going back to London yet, and wouldn’t until he could say for certain whether Hendrik would be coming with them or not. Charlie had known about their real family for a couple of years now, having managed to keep it a secret between himself and Billy. During the series of fights that led to the end of his relationship with Florian, the truth had ended up coming out when Florian discovered the box of photographs and relics from Billy’s past and confronted him about it, loudly and with brute force. He hadn’t been as understanding or as willing to listen as Hendrik had been, nor did he respect the secrecy surrounding the subject; consequently, his aggressive and violent reaction had caught Charlie’s attention, who overheard enough that Billy decided it was time to share the truth with him. Knowing how opinionated his son could be, he simplified the reasons why they had had to split up from the family, and left out the gory details so as not to frighten him, but ever since then the boy had wanted nothing more than to meet the rest of his family. To have large gatherings at Pakjesavond - or Christmas - and play with all his cousins and find out about their lives. Billy knew he would be thrilled to hear that they would be moving to hopefully live near them all, so he wasn't too worried about his reaction. Hendrik's, on the other hand, was far less predictable.

Besides one meeting in the morning, Billy had spent the day working from home. Even though he knew he would be leaving his job soon, he still wanted to use work to distract himself from overthinking the situation he was in. After Hendrik had left, he had spent a good portion of the night going through that same box that Florian had discovered, reading the letters that Harper had sent him and pouring through the photographs he had. He didn’t have photos of everyone, something he very much regretted, but he had a few of his sister, one or two he had taken at Spencer and Shona’s wedding, a couple of his nephew, Bucky, and, of course, a polaroid of Erik holding Charlie at Bruce and Darcey’s wedding. That particular photograph put an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hoped for Charlie’s sake that Erik would opt in and come to London so that the boy could meet him…yet, in a way, Billy wished he had never even told Charlie that the man was supposed to have been his second father. It would be much less complicated, he thought, if they could just go back and be colleagues. Their relationship hadn’t ended naturally and they had never had closure, his love for Erik instead just having to be filed into a box and pushed to the back of his mind in order to move on. But seeing him again…he knew that box would have to open, and he would have to figure out what he was to him now. Maybe he had moved on, too, maybe he was fathering a child of his own now and had abandoned the idea of being Charlie’s dad - in which case, he wouldn’t have to see him as family, but just a colleague or an old friend. An ex-boyfriend with no ill will towards the other. Complications aside, however, Billy was excited about the thought of seeing his family again.

Beyond the anxiety of leaving his job and all his friends, removing Charlie from the only home he had ever truly known, the anticipation of Hendrik’s decision, having to address Harper’s absence once he got to London and the actual task he had signed up to with Interpol, it was the excitement to reunite with his family that kept his spirits up throughout the day. However, it became harder to remain completely calm as day rolled into night and Hendrik still hadn’t returned. Billy put Charlie to bed and then went on a cleaning spree, his OCD starting to take over as he went over parts of the house he had already tidied and cleaned just a few hours ago. By the time he heard the key in the front door turn and Hendrik stepped inside, the house was looking like a showroom from a magazine spread.

They met in the living room, and Billy’s throat ran dry at the mere sight of him. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’ve, uh…put Charlie to bed, so…it’s just us.” He stepped over to the sofa and began to plump up the already perfectly plump cushions, all the while facing Hendrik. The man began to speak and Billy watched him, mentally preparing to hear that their relationship was over and that they would have to part ways. He brought up all the things on which Billy had deceived him, and Billy nodded, his face growing pink with shame. “I’m sorry,” he uttered softly, an ache already forming in his chest. But then Hendrik told him he was in love with him. His following words implied that his past life couldn’t change that, that he was determined to make their relationship work, even if it meant moving to London and finding a new job. He even offered to fight alongside him if it meant protecting Billy and Charlie from getting hurt.

Billy’s eyes pricked with tears and he couldn’t help but smile fondly at him, completely touched by his words and his decision. Speechless, he gave up on forming a reply and instead just came over to him and hugged him tight. He pressed his lips to his in a loving kiss, sweeping a hand to the back of the man’s head to hold him close, and then parted to lock eyes with him. “I will never ask you to join this fight,” he told him sincerely. “I will keep you safe from this, I promise ya’. We’ll find you work, we’ll get us a nice house like this one, and I’ll make you feel at home in my city ‘til it feels like your city, too.” He found himself smiling more, his eyes teeming with love. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say you want to come with us,” he said. “Thank you for stickin’ by my side. I love you so much, mijn schatje.” And he kissed him again, this time with more passion, drawing him in so close that their bodies were fully pressed together. By now, he had let go of his worries about Erik, his late sister, and the task ahead. At that moment, all he wanted was Hendrik.

~ END ~​

 

[Pyroclast]

Jeanie’s Apartment
~ Wherever Klaus told him she was ~
Monday 22nd September 1997

Syd Porter​

It was too much excitement for one day. All these people in the farm house, family members he hadn’t seen for years whom he now, finally, had the opportunity to meet again, and yet it was the one person who had willingly left him that he wanted to see. Maybe it was the guilt that had haunted him ever since she had left, knowing that it was him who had driven her away. He couldn’t stand not knowing where she was, not knowing if she was safe, but most of all he hated himself for losing her in the first place. If he wasn’t the way he was then she might not have left. And she would be safe, and Jane wouldn’t be so lost without her twin. That’s how he saw it, anyway. He knew she had problems, serious problems. He saw so much of himself in her and that only made him feel guiltier; she needed the stable parenting that his own parents had given him, and he couldn’t give that to her. He took Roxie’s attention away from her with all his breakdowns, going in and out of hospital. If he hadn’t been there, maybe Roxie could have done more for her and then she could have had the attention she had needed. It had inspired many suicidal urges in him, and then leaving Germany altogether had only refreshed the guilt in his mind, since she wouldn’t even know where they were if she ever needed to reach them.

So, to find out her address so soon after landing in England was something he couldn’t get out of his head from the second Klaus told him. Not only did he now know where his daughter lived, but it was right there in London. It filled him with hope that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Not wanting to crowd her, Roxie had decided to stay home with their other children while he satisfied his desperate desire to find Jeanie by going to her door.

But she wasn’t answering. “Jeanie?” he called for the seventh time, his head resting against the door. “Jeanie please open the door…” It crossed his mind that she might not be home, but his guilty conscience convinced him that she wasn’t answering because she knew it was him. “I just want to see you, baby, I need to know you’re okay. Please…” More empty seconds went by and he checked, yet again, that he had the right number. “Jean bean, please come out and talk to me. I love you, baby girl.”

His mind was racing with despairing thoughts, that Jeanie was on the other side of the door and just had no interest in ever seeing him again. Maybe Klaus had lied and given him the address as a smokescreen and it wasn’t really her address at all. The neighbourhood was rough and the building neglected, not the sort of place Jeanie had been used to growing up. Maybe she wasn’t coping well. Maybe he was too late?

Syd got down on his knees and opened up the letter box, peering inside. “Jeanie,” he spoke into the gap. He didn’t even care if she could hear him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. I’m sorry I lost you, baby. I want to be the dad you deserve, please, please let me try and be better. I love you…If you’re there, Jeanie, just open the door.”

 

[Bellz]

Jeanie’s Apartment
~ F*ck Off, I'm not telling you, London ~
Monday, 22nd September 1997

Jeanie Porter
(Jolene Foley) ​

After unsuccessfully getting her bike to start, Jeanie had been stuck with walking it home. She wasn't going to leave it in the lot of the club for some assholes to strip for parts but maybe it was a sign from the universe that she was still too inebriated to drive. The drugs had done their job, she wasn't nearly as paranoid as she had been when she first arrived at the club and walking home, she barely noticed the faces walking past her...giving her strange looks as she walked her motorcycle on the sidewalk like a bicycle. It was late...at least she thought it was. She didn't own a watch. The moon was covered by the gloomy London clouds so she couldn't exactly tell how high it was in the sky not that she would be able to tell what time it was by that alone. Jeanie didn't exactly enjoy the company she partied with tonight but she didn't hate it either. In some aspects, it was better than being alone but on other days she liked being alone. It was all very confusing.

Pulling her bike into her usual parking spot on the side of the road next to her apartment building, Jeanie heard a few dogs howling in the distance causing her to look around for a moment. Her neighborhood was quieter than most for being on the wrong side of town minus the occasional gunshot or fight that broke out in her building from her downstairs neighbors. Most people stuck to their shit which she was appreciative of. After refusing to accept any more money from her parents back in 1994, Jeanie had solely worked to live on her own. It wasn't a dazzling estate or mansion like she'd been so used to growing up in as a kid, but it was home. The building was in desperate need of repairs, and paint chipping, some windows were even riddled with bullet holes from ages ago. But she tried not to pay attention to those details. Her apartment was on the third floor. A high enough vantage point to see everything she wanted to see, high enough for no one to get in as easily. The fire escape was rusted away, rotted, and falling apart, so no one could get up it even if they tried. Her unit was one of the last ones on the floor, in the back away from the road. Quiet, out of sight. She could open all of her windows whenever she wanted without feeling like she was being watched.

After making sure her bike was locked in place for the night, she quickly hurried inside of her building. While she felt okay on the walk home, the effects of the drugs she had taken at the club were wearing off minute by minute and she could feel her heart starting to pulse inside of her chest at a faster rate. The building didn't make her feel safe, being inside of her unit did. Once she got to her stairwell, she climbed them two steps at a time, clumsily at that but made it to the third floor in what she felt was record time. When she shoved her floor's metal door open, the thing squeaking ever so slightly with the motion, she felt something was...off. The feeling of anxiety, panic...it was intense and it winded her more than walking up the stairs had. Fixing herself at the door, she stepped through but didn't proceed down the hall, knowing she would have to turn the corner to her hall but feeling like she had something expecting her. Or someone. Jess and Bex weren't back from the club yet, Jeanie had left way before everyone else. So it couldn't have been them.

The hall she was in was silent, except for the low hum of the fluorescent lights. Swallowing harshly, the anxiety in her head started to wrap around her skull like a rubber band and she wondered if maybe she should turn around and listen to her gut. It didn't steer her wrong. Usually. Reaching into her trouser pocket, she grabbed her gun, her sweaty palm struggling to grip it properly at first as she pulled it from her concealed thigh holster clumsily. Her breathing had become more erratic, and hard to control, her lungs starting to narrow as they did when she had an asthma attack...like breathing through a straw. It was starting to sound more like a wheeze and she wanted to curse out loud for leaving her inhaler in the apartment. She had to step forward, had to move. Jeanie knew that maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her again, returning to its paranoid state. If it was, she needed her inhaler. Expired or not. Raising her gun, she kept two hands on it with her finger away from the trigger, resting on the base as she walked down the hall towards the corner she would need to round to see down her hall. With each step she took, Jeanie felt heavier, like something was physically weighing her down.

Then she heard his voice. "Jeanie, I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I'm sorry I lost you, baby. I want to be the dad you deserve, please, please let me try and be better. I love you...if you're there, Jeanie, just open the door." The nervous shake in her leg didn't go unnoticed and the burn in her eyes caused her to shake her head as she looked down. How the fuck did he find her? She hadn't talked to her dad since 1994 and she had intended to keep it that way. Sure, she'd lost Jane in the process and she regretted that every single day of her fucking life but she had to do it, she had to leave. She just had to. Living with her father was like...like...she couldn't even think right now.

The wheezing in her chest was only getting worse but she was fighting it off, her asthma wasn't nearly as bad as it was when she was a kid. Still bad, but manageable to a point. Her sweaty palms were struggling to hold onto the gun. She could leave, Jeanie had the power to leave. She wasn't a kid anymore trapped inside of her home having to listen to him screaming, so then why wouldn't she move? She tried to rip her feet from their paralyzed position on the floor but in her jerking, the gun slipped from her hand. Fortunately, the safety was on, but it clattered to the floor, a dead. fucking. giveaway as it slid into the center of the hallway...giving her no choice but to reveal herself. Dragging her hands down her face in a painful manner, her eyes burned with tears before she stepped into view to pick it up. Shoving it into her pocket, she saw her dad on his knees at her door, before he would most likely get to his feet.

"What-what are you doing here?" She wheezed out, eyes wildly looking at him. "You're...you're...you're supposed to be in fuckin' Germany." Her tone was meant to sound harsher than it came out, but she was just having a hard time breathing at this point. The briefest moment of concern for her sister flashed in her mind and she voiced it without thinking, "Is it Jane, is she okay?" But then shook her head, "How did you find me, why did you come here?!" Jeanie tried to shout, but it came out raspy wincing at the sound as her voice cracked.

 

[Pyroclast]

Jeanie’s Apartment
~ Wherever Klaus told him she was ~
Monday 22nd September 1997

Syd Porter​

Maybe he was just getting anxious because Jeanie didn't seem to be home, but an unsettling feeling crept in and made the hairs on his neck stand on end. A feeling that he was being watched. Syd went quiet, hearing only his own shallow breaths, and slowly turned around. Not a second later, a gun came clattering into the centre of the floor and Syd instantly reached for his own and pulled it out. A young woman stepped out and picked it up and Syd's grip on his gun tightened. The only thing causing him to hesitate was the fact that she looked so young. Then, he saw her. It wasn't just any young woman - it was his daughter.

Jeanie stowed her gun away and Syd did the same as he got to his feet. She looked wild - fearful and stressed, like a defensive animal. Her voice when she spoke to him sounded strained, and it became clear that she was having a hard time catching her breath. Syd didn't respond - he just stared at her. It had been three years since she had cut off contact with them and he needed a minute to process that he was standing in front of his daughter again. Take in the sight of her. She still had her mother's stark beauty, though she appeared rough around the edges and had more of a darkness about her, her blue eyes made more striking by the wildness of them. She acted defensive yet vulnerable, like a wound animal in the presence of a predator. Syd's heart sank a little, seeing how afraid she was of him. It didn't exactly surprise him given her reasons for leaving home in the first place, but part of him wished that at least some part of her would have missed him.

She asked at first after Jane, but then switched to plainly asking why he was there. "Jane is fine, everyone's fine," he uttered, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. He wasn't sure how to start explaining himself - would telling her that everyone was back in London make her up and move away again? "Jane's here, in London. She misses you. We all do." He paused again and lowered his hands. All he wanted was to rush towards her and give her a hug, but he found himself rooted to the spot; perhaps nervous to startle her and scare her off. "We were called back to London by Interpol to help them on a case, in exchange for our old identities and the freedom to see our families again. And then Klaus - you remember Klaus - he told me where you lived and I just - I had to see you." His lip quivered and he bit down on it for a moment. "I just had to see you were okay, that's all," he explained. He took a step forward, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Jeanie. I wish I could be the kind of dad you need; I wish I wasn't fucking the way I am. You know I'll still do anything for you, right? I'll move the fucking world for you." He wanted to cry just from seeing her again, but he fought his hardest against it, knowing that she wouldn't want to see him in that way again. "So, are you...are you getting on okay? You have money, friends? You have your own apartment, that's...that's really amazing. I'm impressed. I'm proud of you. Can I see it?"

 

[Bellz]

Jeanie’s Apartment
~ F*ck Off, I'm not telling you, London ~
Monday, 22nd September 1997

Jeanie Porter
(Jolene Foley) ​

Any prayer to a God she didn't believe in that the man standing before her was the result of a mixture of her high and a pre-manic episode thrown out the window when her father spoke, his words cutting into the air like a knife. She flinched, regrettably at the sound. Any other time, any other place, she would have been prepared, ready to handle it all. But he caught her so off-guard, she was still high and not to mention she was having an asthmatic episode now. He told her Jane was fine, everyone's fine. He held up his hands to show he didn't want to mean any harm but Jeanie didn't trust it. Any trust she'd given her father had been drained long ago, not that he'd hurt her physically. Mental wounds tended to leave scars that never truly healed. Her dad was here to pour salt on them, intentionally or unintentionally it didn't matter. She was going to get hurt. She always did.

Jeanie opened her mouth, ready to tell him to leave if Jane was fine if everyone was fine then to just go. There was no reason for him to be here, it didn't matter even if she asked. Jeanie had the right to change her mind. But when he told her that Jane was in London, her mouth snapped shut, the little air she had left squeezed from her lungs as Syd told her that her twin sister missed her, they all did, "Dont." It took a lot of practice, to not give in to calling or sending a letter. Self-preservation felt like a necessity for her and it also felt selfish when it came to thinking about Jane. Despite telling her father not to continue with the guilt trip he was going down, she didn't push him away yet even though she should have. Her breath rattled in her chest as she eyed his hands, watching them lower as he paused before speaking again.

Out of all the things he could have said about why they were in London, she was not expecting him to say they teamed up with Interpol. If she were in a manic mood she might have cackled at the sheer thought of her family even thinking about teaming up with law enforcement. Klaus? Klaus had her address and told her dad. Syd just said he wanted to see her...had to. "How...did he..." Jeanie rasped, having to pause in her speaking to take a few deep breaths. "DirtyGermantraitor!" She hissed out in one go. Then she noticed that lip quiver. Alarm bells in her head warned her that the situation could get dangerous and she tensed but it seemed like her dad was fighting it off. Jeanie still didn't trust any of this, it was too much, but she couldn't scream like she wanted, couldn't tell him to go. She was out of breath. He was doing all the talking.

When he took a step towards her, her blue eyes went wide and she took a step back out of defense, shoulders rigid. "Dad, please." Her voice was barely above a whisper, not able to give the proper warning she wanted to but she was silent as she listened to him apologize to her. Tears burned in the back of her eyes, it was hard to tell if they were out of fear, anger, or from what he was saying to her. He'd said it before, apologized for his behavior, and every time he'd let her down again. Her mother allowed it, but Jeanie didn't have to and didn't stick around for such cycles to continue.

Jeanie was saved from having to address his apology, at least for the moment. Her breathing had been reduced to shallow breaths and she was feeling lightheaded and dizzy. If she could just get into her apartment and shut the door. He then started asking if she was doing okay, asking if she had money and friends. And then...something she'd thought she'd never ever, ever hear. Proud of her? For this place? Confusion crossed her face. "Proud? of me?" He then asked if he could see it. Again, if she was in a manic mood she would have cackled. "Uhhhhh..." Her eyes glanced to her door and suddenly, as if she knew her owner was looking at the door Norma let out a great big Meow before she clawed at it.

The place wasn't the greatest but Norma had scratched the hell out of the front door in her hunger-fueled fits. Jeanie looked back at her dad, her mind slow from the lack of oxygen now. If she let him in, that was letting the person she ran away from, or one of them really, into her home...her safe space. But, she wasn't going to stay in London now that they were all here. Her mind was telling her to flee and that's exactly what she was going to do as soon as he left. Klaus found her once, he'd probably find her again but she'd be farther away this time. If she wasn't staying...could she humor him with this? High Jeanie certainly was the nicer version.

"Yea. Just...don't read too much into any of this, alright?" Jeanie forced herself to take as deep of a breath as she could before walking past him, side-stepping awkwardly to move to her front door without looking back. After jamming the old key into her lock, she jiggled it around methodically until it opened and stepped down to pick up Norma before she could slip out into the hall. Jeanie left the door open for her dad, allowing him to see himself in and shut the door. Quickly walking into the bathroom down the hall, she gently placed Norma on the counter before grabbing her inhaler from the medicine cabinet. 2 years expired but it didn't matter. She blew out a breath and took two puffs from it, holding her breath before letting it all out. After doing it all once more, she felt better immediately.

Norma meowed at her again and Jeanie rolled her eyes, "Shut it will you, I'll feed you now." Picking her up, she groaned at the weight and walked with her cat toward the tiny kitchen to grab the cat food. Jeanie eyed her dad who was no doubt just looking at everything. "It ain't much. Nothin' like what you and mom are used to. But it keeps Norm and I warm during all this wet weather." In the living room, there was a sofa, a small box TV with basic cable a few plants that were dying or dead by the windows, and a single lamp which Jeanie moved to turn on after feeding Norma who made slight little growling noises as she ate.

Acting like this was all okay was...interesting. Maybe it was because she knew she was just going to pack up and leave. Or at least she was telling herself she was going to. But having her father standing in her safe space was...less triggering. Jess had miracle weed. Now that she could breathe and had gotten a few good deep breaths in, Jeanie could think clearer. "Mam didn't want to see me, did she?" Jeanie asked, "She definitely wouldn't be proud of all this. Can't imagine how you are. I mean, you got the Golden Boy at home. How is he by the way? Still a pain in the ass?"

 

[Pyroclast]

Jeanie’s Apartment
~ Wherever Klaus told him she was ~
Monday 22nd September 1997

Syd Porter​

If he could slow down his thoughts, exercise enough self-control, maybe Syd would have been able to put more thought into how he went about approaching his daughter. But he felt he had spent long enough wondering about her, and so as soon as Klaus gave him an address, he couldn't stop himself from going there in hopes of finding her. In the three years that had passed since she ran away, not a day had gone by that he hadn't wondered if she was safe. He had pictured her sleeping on the streets or being picked up by some gang of traffickers, stripped of her dignity and freedom, having to do unspeakable things to survive. It made him sick to think that he had driven her away from the life he and Roxie had tried to give her - one of wealth, comfort, support, safety, opportunity and most of all, love - and into the dark, dangerous unknown. The gun on her waistband, the dilapidated apartment building, and her wild, dilated pupils were starting to paint an image in his mind of the kind of reality she lived. But at least she had a roof over her head. "So proud," he insisted. Despite her rough appearance, Syd couldn't take his eyes off her.

Several seconds went by as Jeanie hesitated, Syd trying to will her with his eyes to give him a chance. Though she warned him not to read too much into it, she settled on letting him into her flat. Of course, he took it as a positive sign and couldn't help but get his hopes up anyway - but for now, he was just grateful to be given a moment of her time. It was more than he had been expecting. "Of course," he tried to assure her. "Thank you..."

It was clear that she was having an asthma attack, and he knew his presence wasn't helping her get it under control, so stayed by the door to keep out of her way. The father in him wanted to tell her to sit down while he fetched her inhaler, but he didn't know where it was, and was sure she didn't want his help given that she had left in the first place. So, he watched as she picked up a cat and carried it over to the kitchen counter, and when she dug out her inhaler, he turned his attention to their surroundings. The flat certainly left a lot to be desired. There was a small kitchenette against one of the walls, and the few pieces of furniture included a lamp, a small television set and a sofa, which Syd suspected may have come from a tip. The décor didn't go beyond a few dead plants on the windowsill, but at least it smelled better in her flat than it did in the corridor. As if reading his mind, Jeanie gave something of a disclaimer about the place, to which Syd managed a smile. "No, no...I'm glad you're keeping warm," he quietly replied. "It's good to see you in a place of your own. I...wasn't sure what to expect."

He still stood by the door, somewhat awkwardly, unable to make himself at home. When Jeanie came out with the assumption that Roxie didn't want to see her, Syd was taken aback. He suddenly realised he had no idea in what way Jeanie had been thinking of her mother all this time. He was sure that she resented him and all his breakdowns: his self-harm, his suicide attempts, his explosive episodes, his hospital stays, his emotional unavailability. All the time he stole from them, the attention from their mother that he took away from them, the days, weeks he didn't show up, the support he was unable to give. He understood all too clearly that he had given her plenty of reasons to not want him in her life. If anything, she should be blaming him, not Roxie.

"Hey," he said, in an almost wounded tone. "Your mam wants to see you. More than anything." He hesitated for a moment before taking a small step further into the room, his eyes on Jeanie in hopes that she would meet his gaze and see that he was sincere. "She loves you, baby, we all do. She just...well, I'm..." Given Jeanie's reasons for being apprehensive around him, he was too embarrassed to admit how unstoppable he had been when he had learned of her address. "She didn't want to overwhelm you. Figured that me showing up at your door would be enough." He gave a sheepish laugh in an attempt to take the edge off, but it didn't really work. In the end, he fell to silence and looked down at his feet. His heart rate was climbing as he felt his time with her running out. He just wanted to know what she needed to hear, in order to feel loved and wanted again. He was never very good at that - his emotions got in the way of his words and made him speak before he could think. And it was such a difficult situation to resolve, that even on days where he could think about Jeanie without his emotions taking control, he still didn't arrive at a solution. "I don't know what to do." It was only a whisper, but it still surprised him to hear his thought be spoken aloud.

Pretending he hadn't said it, Syd took a breath and raised his head to look at Jeanie. "I don't want to waste this chance saying useless things," he admitted. "What I want is to fix our relationship, and I wish I knew what to say or do to make that happen. But I don't even know where to start. Your mam and I both love you, Jeanie, and I hope that doesn't just sound...cheap. Because it's true, and I really mean it. Nothing you do will change that, try as hard as you want but I'll always be your dad and I'll always want the best for you. What you or your brothers and sisters do doesn't change that. Love doesn't go up and down, it's not something you have to earn, and neither is my respect for you." His hands were shaking. "I am proud of you, Jeanie. You're so bright, like your mother, so independent and unstoppable. You have this place all of your own, you're making your own money, you have this cat you're taking care of." He gestured to Norma, who was still tucking into her dinner. "I know I can't make you come home, but I just..." A tear fell down his cheek and he reached up quickly to wipe it away, not wanting her to worry that he was getting upset. "I'm sorry that I...that we...made you want to leave in the first place. I don't want you to spend the rest of your life thinking that you don't have a place with us, or that you're not valued, or that we don't adore you. I wish I could have been a better dad. I'm sorry…"

 

[Bellz]

Jeanie’s Apartment
~ F*ck Off, I'm not telling you, London ~
Monday, 22nd September 1997

Jeanie Porter
(Jolene Foley) ​

As self-involved as she was, Jeanie had at one point been very involved in her family's well-being. Especially, her father's. When her parents were separated, her father was the parent she leaned toward despite his problems. She thought it wasn't fair what her mother was doing to him, what the world was doing to him quite frankly, and that no one, including himself was giving him the chance he deserved.

Even though she was far removed from all of that now, she could see the way he struggled to keep himself contained, watching as he smiled at the explainer of her shoddy apartment. He stood out like a million dollars in the middle of a homeless shelter. When her dad said that it was good to see her in a place of her own, citing that he wasn't sure what to expect, Jeanie raised a single brow. "You thought I'd be living in a box?" She asked, voice gruff as she tilted her head. Seeing as her dad was still standing, Jeanie still stood, moving to lean against the wall closest to the kitchen as she crossed her arms over her chest. Looking around her apartment, she felt that maybe this was just a glorified box after all.

She'd jumped to the conclusion that her mother didn't want to see her, a conclusion in her mind that was justified considering the parting words the two shared. Though she was sure her father never heard a whisper of it. Jeanie knew it wouldn't come off well, given that her mother was this man's entire world. Jeanie was convinced that if either of them were to go if either of them were to die, their kids wouldn't be enough for them to stick around. One of them died, and the other followed. It was a whole other type of emotional dependency that Jeanie couldn't wrap her head around.

The wounded tone he gave, followed by his insistence that Roxie wanted to see her, made her shake slightly. Jeanie's eyes were planted on the floor, somewhere between the two of them watching as her father's shoes took a step towards her, causing her to look up and tense. Her eyes met his, there was nothing but absolute sincerity in his eyes and that should have been more than enough to convince her of everything. Jeanie's large blue eyes searched her father's brows slightly crumpling in confusion as he hesitated to explain her mother's reasons for not showing. She didn't want to overwhelm her, he concluded. Figuring that him showing up at her door would be enough.

Annoyingly, as always, that was a valid point. Her dad gave a sheepish laugh which died off quickly before he broke their gaze and looked to his feet. Jeanie just watched him, for any signs that he was going to lose the careful control he had going on right now in her house. But he looked to be thinking, of what to say...or of what to do. Jeanie had thought about this moment. Or at least of these moments, when eventually she would be found and how she would satisfyingly kick him out or her mother out...or both. Tell them both off for ruining her life and be done with them forever. But here she stood, in her own space...feeling just as lost as she used to under her parent's roof. As if fighting for her independence changed absolutely nothing. But that wasn't it was it? God, her head was starting to pound. I don't know what to do. Was that her saying that? Or did he just say that? She could hardly hear anything right now over the heartbeat in her ears.

Seeing her dad raise his head, Jeanie's eyes refocused, having blurred from the pain now starting to form in her head. She could hear him clear as day now. And it was all the things she didn't want to happen. Jeanie just shook her head, trying to keep her mouth shut to let him finish, biting the inside of his cheek until she could taste blood. When he finished apologizing, Jeanie couldn't keep it shut any longer. "Don't compare me to her, Dad. I don't want to be like her. I don't. Ever!" She said, venom lacing her voice as her hands balled into fists. "She let you go through all of those horrible things in the hospital, Dad. Never told us where you were, never told us when you were coming home. Shut down completely. You might have taken up a lot of her time but she had a lot of time to give and never gave it to us." Jeanie's eyes burned as she waved a hand at her father as if telling him he wouldn't ever understand, turning away from him, she shielded her eyes.

"I don't want to come home, I don't want a place with you. Death has followed our family like a virus since Matthew died. Since we all watched him die in that fucking parking lot. Then Grandpa Jimbo and then Grandma Lucy. Who next? You?" Her fist half-hit the wall angrily behind her but she couldn't even feel it.

 

[Pyroclast]

Jeanie’s Apartment
~ Wherever Klaus told him she was ~
Monday 22nd September 1997

Syd Porter​

It wasn’t until Jeanie snapped that Syd realised he had a knee-jerk reaction to defend Roxie. He sucked in a sharp breath, ready to snap back at her, but the pain in her voice stopped him. She spat out her words like venom, but instead of hurting him, they opened his eyes. There was so much that neither he nor Roxie had told their children: that Syd had killed countless people, including Roxie's father and Ricky, and that the reason she had left him all those years ago was because he had hugely betrayed her trust. And while keeping the truth from them had been an effort to protect them, in doing so it had damaged Jeanie's perception of Roxie. Until now, Syd had never really known how his hospitalisations had affected his family, what home life had been like while he was gone. Picturing Roxie as the empty shell that Jeanie described brought tears to his eyes.

His daughter continued her tirade, her words stabbing him in the chest upon mentioning all the deaths that had surrounded their family. James and Lucy, Matthew…and she even suggested he could be next, before slamming her fist into the wall.

“Jeanie, listen,” he softly spoke. “I think my relationship with your mother is more complex than you know. There's so much that happened when you were young that we never told you. You and your siblings were already going through so much and it just didn't seem like a good idea to traumatise you further with the twisted details of our lives. As long as we could keep you safe, we'd do our best to just keep going. I've never been good at that. I…I wish I wasn't the way I am, but…the fact is, your mam's always had to be the strong one. I wind up in hospital for weeks, leaving her to look after you and your siblings while I'm away, no matter how much she's struggling. Because she can't afford to fall apart. In a way, I take that away from her…”

Syd looked down in shame, and drew a strained breath. “Something I've learned over the years, Jeanie, is that there's often no point in blame. I do my best to keep going but sometimes…sometimes it's out of my control. And then your mam is left to struggle alone, in whatever condition she's in, and her energy is spent on just getting through a day, and maybe…maybe she wasn't left with enough energy to truly give you the attention you deserved…or show you how much she loves you.” His eyes glistened as he looked over at his daughter, silently willing her to turn back around and face him again. “I'm sorry that we weren't always good parents. But we really did try, baby. We both love you so much, more than anything in the whole world…”

Syd paused for a moment, reaching up to dry his tears with the cuff of his sleeve. He couldn't help but note the empty sofa between them: a place for normal people to sit and have normal conversations. But that didn't apply to them. All they had was distance between them, a space that would surely be even wider if her apartment wasn't so small.

“Look,” he said, his voice calmer after taking a moment to compose himself. “I won't tell you to come home, then, if that's not what you want. You’re clearly making a life of your own now, without our help, and…and I respect you for it. I'm proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself, too. Just…don't suffer for the sake of pride, okay? If you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble, no matter what it is, I promise I'll do my best to help you. No judgement. Just call me and I'll be there for you, okay?” He patted himself down until he found an old receipt and a pen in his pocket, and moved over to the kitchen counter, where he began to write down his number. Then, tentatively, he made his way over to Jeanie and held the paper out to her at arm's length. “Please don't throw this away.”

~ END ~​

 

[Bellz]

The Black Hat
Gentlemen’s Club
~ Soho, London ~
Friday, 24th October 1997

Jolene Foley
(Jeanie Porter) ​

Cocktail waitressing and bartending was definitely not something Jeanie was normally caught dead doing at the club. But it just so happened that after her latest disappearing act, Riley was peeved with her enough to make her cover for not one, but two people who were out sick. Riley was a hard ass, so it was natural there was going to be some pushback for her latest manic episode but Jeanie still was bitter over it. Especially since she was forced to be up close and personal with people instead of on stage like she liked. Up there she could just manipulate men into giving her a bunch of money without having to utter a single word or hearing them drone on about their boring lives. Perfection. Men tried to make small talk with her and ask for her name, which she got creative and gave them a new fake one each time. Just wasting their time as much as they were daring to waste hers on such a busy night. It didn't matter so long as they dropped tips on her tray before she returned to behind the bar. Which was made possible with a flirtation smile or a little extra time bending over to grab empty glasses.

For a Friday night, it was slower than usual but the regulars made up for the lack of a crowd. Jeanie always hated a crowd when she was forced to be on a waitressing or bartending shift. Sure, she hated the crowds in general, they made her heart race nonstop throughout her shift, enough to probably raise her blood pressure...but having to try to talk to every one of these assholes was demanding.

Fortunately, one of the other girls was relieving her of waitressing for the time being, offering to switch so that Jeanie could be behind the bar for a time. While it wasn't where she wanted to be in actuality, it still offered more privacy than waitressing. No one reaching to try to grab her when reaching to grab for empty glasses or tips, no one hollering at her from across the room. After stepping behind the bar, she moved to set her tray full of empty glasses down and count her tips before slipping them into the hem of her black sparkling mini skirt for safekeeping for now. The nylon material was tight enough to keep it there. Sometimes she felt like she couldn't breathe in all this crap, but she knew it was her anxiety. Adjusting her sparkling black bra that matched, she sighed...trying to ground herself over the rattle of the booming music. Turning towards the sink, Jeanie moved to rinse out the glasses on her tray quickly, only doing what she could before she turned back to the tending bar.

That consisted of making sure the mixers were filled, the ice bucket was filled, and the extra bottles of liquor were all accounted for. She could see why the girl had switched with her now, the bar was empty. No one was sitting at the stools and all the business to be had was out on the floor, with the men sitting around the stage or at the tables in the main area or VIP lounge. Normally, Jeanie would be pissed, missing out on such profits but after having run into her Dad recently with the information he'd given her about her family being in London...none of it seemed to matter right now. Her head felt scattered, more than usual, which was hard to top.

A few minutes had gone by and she was just working on getting the ice filled up when out of the corner of her eye she saw what she thought to be people sitting at the bar. Without looking up immediately as she was still working on getting the ice bucket filled, she lifted the heavy bucket onto the counter below the actual bar counter with a grunt before moving to grab a few coasters and spreading them out on the surface. Then she grabbed the tiny menu they had, with just a list of drinks they had as well as specialty drinks. "We got a few specials going on tonight. If you have any questions, feel free to ask." Her tone was flat, the accent was perfectly practiced so it sounded American. Just because her family was in town and Interpol had granted them immunity and let them out of hiding didn’t mean she was going to come out of it. Her life was what it was because she made it that way. She planned on keeping it exactly the way it was whether her family was around or not. Nothing would change her mind. Jeanie didn't bother to look up at the people as she laid the menus down on the bar. She went back to putting the ice bucket into the proper area, heaving it toward where it needed to go before dumping the contents inside the other bucket. Once she was done Jeanie moved to fix a few strands of stray hair back into place before turning to search for the people she'd been talking to at first, "What will it be?"

 

[Misty Gray]

The Black Hat Gentlemen's Club
~ Soho, London ~

Logan Thomson​

As part of his training and familiarisation with London, Logan had been put on security duty that day. He'd been working alongside two of the Kings' employees who had been in London for at least the last 12 years and so had up-to-date knowledge of the Kings' businesses as well as the city as a whole. Having been working security at some of the clubs and fancier restaurants, Logan had made sure to dress smart so as to fit in. Although, as their time to clock off rapidly approached, it meant he didn't have a solid excuse to refuse the invitation to head out for a drink with the two guards. He was already dressed for it. After some persuasion from Luke and Owen, Logan eventually gave in and agreed to going out for a few hours. He needed to fit in and make more friends, after all.

Trying to get his bearings around the city, he was focusing on street names, businesses, and other landmarks. In his efforts to remember as much as he could, he hadn't paid much attention to the club the two men led him into. Following behind them inside, it took a moment before he looked ahead to the stage and noticed the female dancers. "Luke, what the fuck?! I agreed to a few drinks - not a strip club!" Logan protested, making a point of looking away from the stage as if to show he wasn't interested in letching over the women.

"Oh, calm down, Logan. Let's get some drinks in you and you'll love it!" Owen remarked, laughing as he spoke.

The three men approached the bar to order drinks, with Logan making an effort of sitting on one of the stools so he wasn't facing the stage. "Don't get too comfy. I've spotted an empty table with a good view," Luke said, patting Logan on the shoulder.

Logan shook his head but soon switched his attention to the barmaid who handed him a menu. He nodded his head when she said they had some specials, his eyes fixing on the menu whilst he focused on not showing his annoyance to Luke and Owen for where they'd brought him. By the time the barmaid returned, Logan had handed the menu to the others and so he looked up to see Jeanie. Whilst the two men ordered double shots of liquor, Logan opted for something less strong. "Just a pint of Guinness for me, please," he requested.

Once their drinks were served to them, Luke suggested they move to sit at the table where they could get a closer look at the stage. "Nah, I'm good here for now," Logan firmly told them. After a comment about Logan needing a few more drinks before he'd lighten up, Luke and Owen thankfully walked away so they could sit closer to the dancers. Logan had a long drink from his pint before setting the glass down on the bar and looking up to Jeanie, sending the attractive woman a polite smile as he met her gaze. "Have you been in London long?" he curiously asked, having noticed her American accent. "I'm new here. Trying to familiarise myself with the city. There's certainly a lot more going on here than where I'm from."

 

[Bellz]

The Black Hat
Gentlemen’s Club
~ Soho, London ~
Friday, 24th October 1997

Jolene Foley
(Jeanie Porter) ​

Observing the three men before her, none of them were regulars. That much was clear. The man who looked up at her first hardly looked at the menu but his face had something to it. His friends seemed giddy to be in the club, as did most men who stepped foot in such a fine establishment. But this man didn't seem pleased. Interesting. His two friends ordered double shots of liquor and he opted for something less, Guinness. "You got it." She said, looking at Logan specifically before heading to get the drinks. Placing the drinks in front of the men, she listened as one of them suggested moving closer to the stage. Jeanie would keep the tab open then. Pretending to mind her own business, she grabbed a few dishes from the clean area to dry and put away. Using the rag, she dried off each pint glass, just listening to the music from not too far away as Logan had firmly rejected heading over to the stage.

That never happened. While she wasn't one to care much for other people's business, nor did she want other people in hers, Jeanie couldn't help but steal a glance this guy's way as he took a long drink from his pint. The woman wondered what was sadder, that he'd been dragged to a strip club without knowing it or if he was now sitting in one alone whilst his so-called friends ditched him. Jeanie had let her eyes naturally fall back to the glasses she'd been cleaning when she felt eyes on her, her wide blue eyes glanced up towards the man who sent a smile her way. Normally, Jeanie wasn't one to reciprocate any sort of that behavior but it was like she couldn't help it. She returned it as their eyes met. He asked her how long she'd been in London, however, and that was enough to wipe the smile away in a matter of a second. Her face was neutral as she tried to weigh his intentions. He followed up that he was new, trying to familiarize himself with the city, adding that there was a lot more going on here than where he was from.

She couldn't just walk away from the conversation like others. He was a customer, she was working...and she was already in deep shit with Riley. She couldn’t afford to lose her job over some paranoid feeling. Jeanie took a moment to clean the last glass she had before putting it away where it needed to go, walking back over to Logan, standing in front of him as she leaned against the counter behind the bar. Her heart was thrumming with paranoia but...running wasn't necessarily the option on the table. Jeanie instead smiled, a sweet almost innocent look as she said, "What gave me away? The Yankee accent huh?" She said, "Here I thought I was blending in with this perfect Cockney accent!" The woman laughed, before answering. "About 4 years, give or take. London is certainly a lot to take in if you aren't used to a big city." Jeanie rarely lied to people about how long she had been in London. Just lied about everything else.

"Speaking of not blending in, I'm assuming you don't come to these types of establishments often." Jeanie said, her voice blunt but in a way that wasn't aggressive...more just matter-of-fact. "Most men grab a drink and head to the tables like your friends over there...but you are the first I've ever seen in here choose to stay at the bar." The brunette leaned further against the bar, her hand resting under her chin as she kind of just observed Logan, her big eyes meeting his.

"Judging by the look on your face earlier, you were dragged in here without knowing what this place was. Tell me, where is this magical place you're from that doesn't have a gentlemen's club? By the smokin' accent...I'm guessing...Scotland? Or is this American way off the mark?"

 

[Misty Gray]

The Black Hat Gentlemen's Club
~ Soho, London ~

Logan Thomson​

Logan had picked up on the way Jeanie returned his smile but was then quick to remove it when he asked how long she'd been in London. In the back of his mind, he already began to wonder if he'd overstepped his mark. It wasn't so much that he thought women in London were different to women in Scotland, but he reminded himself of how different things were in the city, not to mention the fact he'd never struck up conversation with a woman in a strip club before. She was probably sick of men trying to chat her up by now. Not that he was trying to chat her up or anything, but given the majority of the men in the building, with motives like Luke's and Owen's, he figured he couldn't blame her if she expected the worst out of him. Given the one-night stands he'd had over recent years, he knew he wasn't the most shining example of a gentleman, even if he wasn't about to start perving over women and throwing money at them in a club.

When she finally replied to him, he flashed a boyish smile back at her, making sure not to fixate too much on her enticing blue eyes. "Oh, I know a few Cockneys and your accent definitely doesn't blend in with theirs," he went along with her joke. "The big city is a lot to take in, but I'm up for the challenge."

When Jeanie vocalised her assumption about him not coming to this kind of club often, he nodded his head to confirm it. "Yeah, those two arseholes kind of sprung it on me," he admitted to her. He paused as she leaned against the bar and looked to be studying him. He kept silent enough for her to continue speaking, telling him it was clear by his face he'd been dragged into the club. "They're meant to be showing me around the city so I can get my bearings. No offense to your place of employment, but if I get to the point where I'm letchin' over women and paying for their attention, I might as well just top myself."

When she guessed he was from Scotland, he gave a single, large nod. "Aye, Scotland is right - from a town in The Highlands. Gorgeous, scenic place, but really quiet compared to London. If there is a gentlemen's club there, I just never bothered to look for it," he told her. "What about you? Where in America are you from? Huge country, but I'm going to hazard the most obvious guess and say New York City."

 

[Bellz]

The Black Hat
Gentlemen’s Club
~ Soho, London ~
Friday, 24th October 1997

Jolene Foley
(Jeanie Porter) ​

Any feelings of paranoia she had, while they still lingered, were being diluted by the curiosity Jeanie was currently feeling over this man. Something about that boyish smile, the way he played into her jokes and wasn't eager to stare at anything but her face even in her most revealing outfit was...interesting to her. A delicate brow raised as he stated he was up for a challenge when it came to the big city, making her wonder more about his character. The woman could have been walking away, busying herself with mundane bar chores that were forced upon her tonight but...Jeanie was surprisingly enjoying this conversation enough to stay. At least for now. Hearing him admit that he had been brought to the club by the two men he was with, without much knowledge only made her want to get to know him just a little bit more.

The brunette let out a small laugh as he slighted her place of employment and she shrugged her shoulders as she still leaned against the bar on her forearms. "Don't worry about me. I don't own this wreck. Just here to pay the bills, be responsible blah blah blah." The last comment he made didn't go unnoticed but, Jeanie had...choked on how to respond at the moment. So it came and went.

Hearing him describe Scotland, she couldn't tell what his take on it was. He said it was gorgeous, scenic but quiet compared to London...but as she tried to read his face for more...it came up short. "Well, I hope London brings you the excitement you're looking for. And...not this strip club kind of excitement." She said, smirking. He then asked about where she was from, but this time she was able to hold the smirk in place as her mind thought of places. Luckily, and unluckily, Logan seemed to fill in the blanks for her...with the most obvious guess which happened to be the right answer at least to some extent. New York City. Her mother was born and raised there. Jeanie and her twin Jane were born there after her mother and father met there. But they only lived there for a short amount of time before moving to Dublin. They visited once or twice. Jeanie could lie and say no, but...what were the chances she'd see this man again after tonight?

"Wow, Scotland. Are you calling me a boring American then? Yes, I just so happen to be from New York City. Very lively. Scenic depending on who you ask." She had only been there briefly with her mother to visit family in the 80s, before–. Her thoughts were interrupted when further down the bar, a rude bunch of men were trying to get her attention. Jeanie had looked over towards them before moving up from her leaned position against the bar. "Gimme a minute, will ya?" She asked Logan, her face falling flat as she knew she was gonna have to deal with these people.

"What are you deaf, love? We've been hollerin' at you for a whole minute!" One of them said, barely sitting on their stool. Jeanie walked over towards them, "I don't speak moron! What's your friend slurring on about?" Jeanie asked, looking to the man to his left as she stared at them with a deadpan look on her face. "Don't listen to him sweetheart, we'll just take another round." The woman nodded her head, staring daggers at the hammered one before going to make the drinks. Once they were distributed, they were on their way, but not before the idiot knocked over his empty glass, sending it towards the floor on the side where the stools were. It shattered and Jeanie looked about ready to kill him.

Taking a few deep breaths, her hands shook as she grabbed the small dustpan and broom before moving around the bar. Noting that Logan was still seated at the bar and had witnessed it all, Jeanie's face had only softened a fraction, "Now why wouldn't this fine establishment not be the first place on your list of sights to see in London?" She asked, her eyes searching the club, finding Luke and Owen, "What brings you to London, anyway? If you're not here to pay for women's attention at the Black Hat, you here for business or another type of pleasure?"

 

[Misty Gray]

The Black Hat Gentlemen's Club
~ Soho, London ~

Logan Thomson​

When Jeanie told him she didn't own the place and she was just there to earn a living, he didn't have anything to say to it. It was her job and everyone needed to make money to survive. When it came down to it and on the face of things, she was more respectable than most of the men currently ogling over the women and throwing their money away.

When she confirmed she was from New York and asked if he was calling her a boring American, he laughed and shook his head to assure her he wasn't calling her anything of the sort. "Maybe I'm just calling out my own limited knowledge of the country. New York City just seemed like a likely guess! I'd quite like to visit there some time and check out the scenery."

Logan nodded his head when Jeanie excused herself to deal with some customers. He grabbed his pint and had another drink from it, all the while allowing his eyes to look towards the mean at the bar. He overheard one of the men speak quite rudely to Jeanie, but he reminded himself it wasn't his place to intervene. He was sure the club had security and he didn't want to overstep his mark with the barmaid. That said, if he thought things were going to turn physical or the men went too far, he was prepared to step in. He heard Jeanie's response and suppressed his amusement as he picked up on the attitude she gave the men in return. It seemed like she could handle things herself as it stood, so he was glad he hadn't rushed in like some idiot trying to play hero. He carefully set his glass back down on the bar as he continued to listen in to the nearby exchange of words.

When the drinks had been served, one of the men went and intentionally knocked an empty glass over. Logan turned to look directly at the men but seeing that they were walking off, he took a few controlled breaths and willed himself to leave it be. He slowly unclenched his balled fist and relaxed. Nobody needed a scene, especially not if it could have repercussions that would reach Spencer and the others. Besides, the situation would likely needlessly escalate if a man appeared to be antagonising other men. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse and draw more attention on Jeanie.

Once again, Logan found himself holding back. His natural instinct to step in and help Jeanie clean up was overruled by the reminder that it wasn't his place, as well as the fact she might take offense to him doing so. Katie had hated when men patronised her. When Jeanie set about sweeping up, Logan hopped down from his stool, thinking there was a fine line between not butting in and looking disrespectfully lazy at the same time. Seeing a chunk of glass by his foot, he crouched down to pick it up, placing it in the dustpan. He let out a low chuckle when she questioned why the club wouldn't be at the top of his list of places to see. As he moved to stand up straight, he caught a glimpse of her bare legs, but was quick to divert his eyes so as not to look like the very men he'd just been critcising. "I suppose you have to put up with wankers like that often, huh?" he asked her, looking at her face to make sure she wasn't shaken up at all.

As one of the other female employees quickly walked towards them, he outstretched his arm to divert her away from stepping on any remaining shards of glass. When she had passed them by and walked away, he looked back to Jeanie in time to answer her next question. "For years I've been working for a family in Scotland and over time we got really close, to the point they're practically my own family now," he fondly told her, thinking of Spencer and the others. "When they needed to relocate back to the rest of their family and their hometown, I decided to join them. There wasn't much keeping me in Scotland anyway. Unfortunately, those lovely people were born Cockneys, which is why I'm now here in London," he joked. "So I'm here to help them with restarting their businesses and right now part of that involves me getting used to London; seeing what it has to offer. This club certainly wasn't part of that research," he admitted.

 

[Bellz]

The Black Hat
Gentlemen’s Club
~ Soho, London ~
Friday, 24th October 1997

Jolene Foley
(Jeanie Porter) ​

Jeanie's hair fell in her face a bit as she moved to sweep. She hadn't noticed that Logan had gotten up at first to help her, so when he placed a chunk of glass into the dustpan, she jumped slightly out of habit that maybe the man had come back. "Thanks." She breathlessly let out. She would have told him that she didn't need help but, right now, she was just trying to get her bearings in terms of keeping herself under control. The woman scowled at Logan's question, the expression not pointed at him specifically. "A little too often for someone who would rather not deal with people at all." She shook her hair away from her face to look at him for a moment, their eyes meeting. Jeanie was more angry than shaken up, the expression she wore was still a fixed scowl as her brows furrowed.

Dipping down to the floor on her heels, she carefully balanced to sweep up the remaining pieces of the glass as Logan diverted one of her co-workers away from the mess. When she stood, he looked at her in time to answer the next question she had asked about why he was in London, to begin with. Hearing that he had been working for a family in Scotland for years and that he'd gotten close enough with them to call them his own family practically was sweet. Jeanie had a complicated relationship with her own flesh and blood family so...part of her envied that this stranger was able to feel so comfortable accepting strangers like that into his life enough to call them family. Her paranoia and mental illness didn't even allow her to accept the friends that she made here in London as her actual friends. The only constant place she showed up to was work and her house. "Well how unfortunate." She played along with his joke, managing to let the scowl she had on her face melt away slightly to smile somewhat.

"Ah well, this club rarely is on anyone's planned itinerary unless one of your friends is getting married or you're one of those jackasses over there. But hey, welcome to London. I doubt this will be the last bizarre place you end up in." She said her blue eyes glimmering with amusement as she smirked. She didn't notice the particularly drunk one strayed far from his group just turning back to the bar with the dustpan and broom to empty the dustpan. The woman who had passed her earlier said she was going on break and needed her to cover out on the floor waitressing and Jeanie looked at her with disdain. "Come on Jolene! Just 10 minutes!" She begged and Jeanie growled, "Fine, go! I'm counting down!" She hated being on the floor and she also had to watch the bar.

Looking at Logan, she rolled her eyes, "Think this place would cease to stop running without me even if I don't own it. I gotta go make a few rounds." After stepping behind the bar briefly, she grabbed a tray and moved back from around it. "Think you can manage to sit by yourself?" She asked in a teasing tone, giving him a smirk before sauntering towards the main floor. Most men didn't pay attention to her thankfully, just paying attention to the dancers on stage. She was grabbing empty glasses, making the rounds, and had only taken one drink order. Easy enough. Better than before. Weirdly enough she was finding herself just wanting to go back to the bar to talk to the mystery man from Scotland.

Her eyes had searched him out from across the room after she'd bent over to grab the last of any empty glasses she'd seen when suddenly someone grabbed her from behind. That caused the tray to tip as Jeanie spun around without any regard for who else was around her and the glasses tumbled to the floor, shattering. Jeanie's backhand connected with the man's face and he drunkenly stumbled back before she caught his shirt, though his weight pulled her forward. Grabbing her pocket knife from her top, she flipped it open with her thumbnail and pressed it against his gut. "Touch me again, I'll split you open like the fucking stuffed pig you are! Understand!?" She shouted, shaking with anger. The man's hands went up, he was muttering some bullshit but she couldn't hear it. Unable to hear what was happening around her from the roaring in her ears, the woman recognized the man as the one from the bar and her anger only skyrocketed as she kneed him in the groin watching as he got to his knees.

 

[Misty Gray]

The Black Hat Gentlemen's Club
~ Soho, London ~

Logan Thomson​

The conversation Logan was having with Jeanie was soon interrupted when one of the other employees began addressing her. Logan overheard the woman saying she was going on her break and he picked up on the name Jolene. He hadn't been talking to her to flirt or attempt to befriend her, so he hadn't asked for her name. Still, he found himself inexplicably glad to now know the attractive woman's name. When she agreed to cover her colleague and then turned to Logan, the only surprise was that she gave him a second thought and didn’t just walk away to do her job. He smiled and shook his head when she said the place would fail without her. He moved to sit back on the stool, still not enticed to join the other two men near the stage. "I reckon I'll manage to cope on my own," he assured her, flashing a smile. He remained facing the bar as she walked away, not wanting to look like he was watching her or anything weird. As he held his pint in one hand, he retrieved his mobile phone in the other so he could text Shona to let her know he would be home late. It wasn't that he was answering to her or Spencer, but given they'd been kind enough to let him stay at their house until he found his own place, he figured it was the respectful thing to do.

Logan was slotting his phone back into his pocket when he snuck a glance towards the stage where Jeanie had walked off towards. He had to focus a little to find her but did so just in time to see a man touch her in a way that led her to drop some glasses from the tray to the floor. "Maybe this is just a normal shift at work..." he reasoned as he willed himself to stay away and not get involved in the situation. However, when he realised Jeanie had then hit the man across the face, it became impossible to stay out of the way. Getting to his feet, he rushed to the scene, nudging aside anyone who blocked his route. As he got closer, he looked down to see the knife in Jeanie's hand as he overheard her threatening to use it on the drunken man. He’d be lying if he didn’t say he’d pulled out a knife to threaten men with before. Sometimes the situation just called for such actions. Whilst it was a reason he’d spent his younger years getting in trouble, it was also something that had made sure he survived his time in prison.

Logan cringed as Jeanie kneed the man in the groin and forced him to fall to his knees. He didn’t care about the drunken man’s discomfort, but just felt the action in his own head. Logan made a point of stepping between them, mostly to conceal the knife Jeanie was holding from any onlookers rather than to play hero. "You should put that away and head back to the bar?" he directly addressed her, wanting to minimise the chance of her getting in trouble. Luke and Owen had managed to tear their eyes away from the stage to approach the scene. "Stay out of it," he advised them. "Just make sure this letch keeps his distance from us, else I'll want to smack him one myself," he told them as he focused back on Jeanie. "What do you say? Put that blade away and come back to the bar with me?" he tried to reason with her. Whilst she didn’t look like she would need or appreciate his help dealing with the drunken man, he did want to steer her away from getting in trouble if he could.

 

[Bellz]

The Black Hat
Gentlemen’s Club
~ Soho, London ~
Friday, 24th October 1997

Jolene Foley
(Jeanie Porter) ​

Before Jeanie could even think to do any more damage to both herself in that moment and the pig on the ground, someone stepped in between her and the asshole. Her eyes slowly scanned the person his feet to his face to recognize it was Logan, who she thought was still at the bar. You should put that away and head back to the bar? The look she gave him was an unforgiving one like she'd rather shove him aside and finish the job. Her jaw set defiantly, "Where is the fun in that?" She asked in a low hiss through her teeth, being completely honest as she tried to look around Logan to the man who was still kneeling on the ground trying to recover. He then was talking to someone else and her eyes darted around until she saw Luke and Owen trying to approach. Gripping her knife until her knuckles turned white, she refused to put it away but didn't swing it wildly like she normally would have. Just holding it in the position she had it in before Logan stepped in. It was currently pointed at his midsection.

The roar in her ears was dying down, but the adrenaline kept her firmly in place, rigid as she listened to Logan tell the other two to make sure the man kept his distance. Jeanie's head was swimming with thoughts of an escape. She could just leave, shove the man in front of her aside, even if he was just trying to help, and make a dash for the exit. Or she could still shove him aside and stab the fucker who touched her without her permission, she had nothing to live for nor nothing to lose. Prison wasn't the worst place she could end up in. Still, with the position Logan was in, the eyes were around now. She was acutely aware that she wouldn't be able to do exactly what she wanted here even if she tried. A scowl formed on her face as Jeanie realized she was at a moral impasse. Letting out the lowest of groans, the woman flicked the blade back and shoved it back into her bra. Her wide blue eyes looked back up at Logan for a long moment, staring at him after his question about returning to the bar before turning on her heels to head in the direction of the bar, while grabbing the tray she dropped in the process. Security was already dragging the man out, fortunately, so Jeanie didn't even get a chance to have second, second thoughts.

The waitress she'd been covering for was asking her a bunch of questions as she creeped out from behind the bar, but Jeanie just shoved the tray in her arms. "I'm not cleaning up after anyone, there's a mess over near tables 13 and 14." The waitress stumbled back at the force that Jeanie shoved the tray into her arms but she wasn't about to apologize for it. All of her co-workers were either used to her behavior or were just scared of her so the brunette didn't even give the waitress a second glance as she took her spot behind the bar again. Luckily, the woman walked away.

Jeanie had a moment to look at her own hands, which trembled fiercely as she tried to rein in the anger she was feeling for the man who had already been dragged out of the club. Her jaw clenched so hard, that her teeth ground painfully in her mouth. Letting out slow deep breaths, she tried to let herself fall back into the same state of persistent annoyance she'd been in before without much success. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Logan, at first, she just ignored him...finding anything to do with her hands that would take the shake away. Trying to act like everything was fine, she started to work on gathering the clean glasses and putting them away again but every time she caught sight of Logan she felt like maybe he was taking some sort of weird pity on her.

"I didn't need you to step in like that, you know?" She said, her tone having a bit of a bite to it as her eyes now glanced up to meet his. They were intense as they stared at him, not looking away as she tried to ensure she stood her ground. Recently, her dad had come back thinking he could offer his help and now this random stranger had...to some degree helped her. What was with that? She didn't need help. "That asshole deserved what I was about to do to him, every single minute of it. Where do you come off stoppin' me like that?" Jeanie's voice was tight, her face etched with anger. Even though she knew that maybe somewhere deep down this anger she was displaying towards a stranger might have been displayed, it was coming out like some word vomit. Gross. "I can...I can take care of myself, alright? I don't need you playin' some handsome hero coming in to save the day."

 

[Misty Gray]

The Black Hat Gentlemen's Club
~ Soho, London ~

Logan Thomson​

Logan had been able to pick up on Jeanie not being overly happy with him for stepping in. She continued to look beyond him as if not finished with the drunken man yet, but Logan maintained his position in her way. Even when he noticed she was still holding the knife, which was now pointing at him, he remained standing exactly where he was.

The apparent stand-off was ongoing for a little while longer before Jeanie eventually scowled and groaned, then finally put the blade away. She then proceeded to retrieve her tray and walk back to the bar. Logan stayed where he was for the moment, watching as the security guards dragged the drunken idiot out of the club.

Logan walked back towards the bar, reaching it in time to find Jeanie alone again. His half-empty pint was still on the bar, so after a brief glance into it, he proceeded to take another drink from the glass. It was clear Jeanie was irritated and making a point of focusing back on her work rather than what had just happened. Still standing, he leaned forward, resting his folded arms on the bar, briefly looking over his shoulder to check everything had now settled down near the stage.

He turned back to Jeanie when she addressed him, saying she didn't need him to step in the way he had. He stood up straight but kept his arms folded as she maintained an intent stare at him. He stayed silent when she said the drunken man had deserved what she was about to do to him and questioned what he'd got out of stopping her. When she then said she could take care of herself and didn't need him playing handsome hero, he couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his lips. He quickly turned serious again though as she stopped berating him. "Hey. Don't flatter yourself. What makes you think I was stepping in to save you? That drunk bloke looked like he really needed my help, especially after that knee to the balls. I felt that myself," he remarked, a grin on his face as he spoke. He then tilted his head to the side and quirked his eyebrows. "So… You think I'm handsome, do you?" he teased.

"Listen," he began, his tone turning more serious and firm. "Clearly you didn't need my help taking the guy on - you had him right where you wanted him. And that's why I stepped in. I couldn't care less if that guy got stabbed to fuck. But I suppose I didn't want you to get in trouble, not with all of those witnesses watching," he explained. He grabbed his pint again and had a long drink. Putting the glass down on the bar he shrugged his shoulders. "He can't have gotten far in the state he’s in. If you still really want to stab the shit out of him I'm sure you could find him and get him where nobody's watching. I won't stop ya."