fandomtownies | Needful Things, Monday

Entry tags:

Needful Things, Monday

Leland Gaunt could have retired years ago. Millenia ago. But he hadn't, for one very important reason.

Leland Gaunt loved his work. That quote about loving one's job and never working a day in one's life? It was so very, very true.

NEEDFUL THINGS
A DIFFERENT KIND OF STORE

You Won't Believe Your Eyes

He couldn't wait to see what new delights this day would bring.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You and myself both," Leland noted, easily. "Though I'm less in the habit of putting price tags on people. I'm far more interested in peddling their hearts' desires."

And if that sounded questionable as hell, well, he didn't seem too terribly concerned about it.

"Why don't you have a look around, Ms. Frost, and perhaps you'll see what I mean."

Emma made a face. "That doesn't sound terribly thrilling," she said. "Most of them don't think beyond getting a date for Friday night, or really craving a Mooby Burger."

Still, she'd continue her browsing, mostly out of morbid curiosity. "What do you think my heart's desire is, then?"

"Yours?" Leland pursed his lips for a moment in thought. "You strike me as an intelligent woman, Ms. Frost. More than most, in fact. If I had to guess," and let's be clear, he certainly didn't have to guess, "I'd say that you might want to have a look at our selection of books, today."

You know. Maybe.

"If I had to guess, I'd guess you aren't guessing," she replied mildly, intrigued enough to play the game. For now. "And I almost never need to guess."

She knew.

She took her time getting to the books, pausing occasionally to check out an item or peer in the display cases. Once she reached the books, however, it didn't take her long to recognize the binding on one item in particular, or pull it free from the shelf.

"No wonder you know how to handle children with sticky-fingers, if you somehow got hold of this," Emma said, keeping her tone light as her fingers worked the pressure-lock on the front from memory. "Or is Winston so short of investment capital that he's resorted to pawning the family dirt?"

The lock clicked open, but Emma didn't really need to see the interior pages to know who it belonged to. She'd given it to him, after all. She'd given him all his journals; each one a distinct custom piece, made just for him.

Leland's grin was something smooth and dangerous and sly as Emma opened the lock, and he spread his hands a little in a placating gesture.

"I much prefer to keep my methods a secret," he replied. "Particularly when it comes to my suppliers. For that matter, I prefer to keep most things a secret, and given the nature of my merchandise, I imagine you can understand why."

"Why is it when I say things like that, people accuse me of nefarious intentions?" Emma sighed, shaking her head. "I'm feeling so attacked right now."

"But, I'll settle for a discreet call should any other merchandise of this nature make its way into your store," she continued, producing her business card from a pocket. "I'd hate to need to go sobbing to the troopers about stolen property in the new store. Crying ruins my eyeliner."

She'd also need to explain that she knew it was stolen because of where Christian was when he was writing in this particular journal. That wasn't going to happen unless Emma was desperate, and they both knew it.

Leland chuckled as he took the card, took a moment to look it over, and then nodded and put it into his pocket. She had attitude. He could appreciate that.

"And should more of this merchandise find its way into my store, I'll be happy to contact you. But of course you understand, I am still a businessman, and I'm not in the habit of letting my stock walk out of here for the low price of my peace of mind. Everything has a price, even if it doesn't come clearly labeled on the package."

"You say that as if business wasn't my business," Emma replied. "I may not be one of your sticky-fingered suppliers, Mr. Gaunt, but I'm intimately familiar with knowing people's prices."

"If I had to guess..." Emma tapped her finger against her lips in faux-thought. "You don't strike me as the type to be interested in my platinum or black cards, despite how high the limit may be."

"And I would then have to say that you'd be correct," Leland replied easily. "I have little use of money. My interests lie in much rarer pursuits. Make me an offer, Ms. Frost. I'm all too happy to barter."

Why, it was what he lived for!

And the beautiful chaos that would come afterwards.

"Information, then," she decided. "The type you can only get from an insider."

"Or rather, the type you can only get from someone on the inside, who knows more than anyone else realizes." Emma's smile, for all its sweetness, was just as dangerous and sly as Gaunt's had been moments before. "Does that sound amenable?"

"It sounds quite tempting," he admitted. "Though it will depend on what inside we are discussing. For a book like this, it would have to be a very important organization."

As if he didn't already know which group she was referring to.

Emma gave him a Look. It was not amused. "You already know who I am, who I represent, and what I can do, otherwise you wouldn't have had your pretty little snare ready," she pointed out. "Put away the coy, darling, we're talking business, now."

"I give you the names, pet projects, and genetic status of every important member of the Hellfire Club in New York. I don't care what you do with it, just keep me out of it."

Emma? Sell-out people who were just as likely to stab her in the back on any given day of the week? The ones she knew were spying on her? Just for her brother's diary?

Oh hells yes. What sort of stupid question was that?

"Done," Leland said. He didn't bother to refute her assumption. Of course he knew who she was. He knew who everyone was, in this town. That was the entire point.

He produced a notebook from under the cash register and set it on the counter.

"The complete list, and the diary is yours."

Emma took the notebook, pulled a pen from her purse, and neatly printed out names, X-Gene status, mutation, and what sort of dirty little deals they had going under the tables. A deal was a deal, after all, and Emma took pride in her ability to fulfill her end of a bargain when doing business.

She even wrote in herself, as he had said complete, and it wasn't anything anyone here in Fandom didn't already know.

Emma Grace Frost, Active X-Gene: Telepath and Biokinetic Shifter. Projects: Portfolio growth, hostile takeovers, development of safe identification and training methods for newly manifested mutants.

Besides, this way, if it ended up in someone's hands, she could deny she wrote it. Why would she out herself this way?

"Acceptable, I presume," she said, arching one eyebrow and putting back down on the counter. "This is, of course, only what I know for certain. I do not deal in idle speculation."

"Acceptable," he agreed. How kind of her to include herself. That made the list so much neater than if he had had to add her himself. "It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Frost."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Needful Things, Monday

Re: Shop with Leland

Re: Shop with Leland

Re: Shop with Leland

Re: Shop with Leland

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!

Re: Shop with Leland - NFB from here!