Character Relationships
Feb. 23rd, 2024 12:38 am| Character Relationships | ||
Sam Axe| Burn Notice![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small} milliways_bar.» ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small} hoochedseal | ||
| Clementine Johnson| Reno 911milliways_bar. » hey35andholding | ||
| Zechs Merquise| Mobile Suit Gundam Wingthe_love_hotel. » lighteningcount | ||
| Emma Swan| Once Upon A Timemilliways_bar. » notinthebook |
||
| Tommy Gavin| Rescue Memilliways_bar. » gavin62truck | ||
| William Evans| 3:10 to Yuma milliways_bar. » not_his_pa |
Code by: itsanooray
MM-Verse: Unraveling Threads
Mar. 14th, 2012 09:33 am He didn't sleep after his apparent reunion with one Zechs Merquise, he returned the dagger to it's owner and collected his small fee and then after a few beers with Sam and Fi got on to digging up what he could on the thief.
Perhaps a little shockingly, he wasn't what Michael had expected at all. He'd been on the scene a couple years; specializing in items that were high risk or higher security. Apparently had family in Luxemburg, but there was no record of them or any known associates. Oh, and he doesn't actually exist. That was a very interesting detail.
After a morning deep in further research, he had no answers but enough ammunition to maybe get some first hand. After spending the afternoon under the Charger, he cleaned up and took the evening to disappear to the motel. Checked in, sitting alone in a short-sleeved button down and jeans in the dark, he waited for the man to arrive.
Perhaps a little shockingly, he wasn't what Michael had expected at all. He'd been on the scene a couple years; specializing in items that were high risk or higher security. Apparently had family in Luxemburg, but there was no record of them or any known associates. Oh, and he doesn't actually exist. That was a very interesting detail.
After a morning deep in further research, he had no answers but enough ammunition to maybe get some first hand. After spending the afternoon under the Charger, he cleaned up and took the evening to disappear to the motel. Checked in, sitting alone in a short-sleeved button down and jeans in the dark, he waited for the man to arrive.
MM-Verse: A Familiar Face in a New Case
Feb. 22nd, 2012 08:20 pm The Love Hotel was nothing more than a dream from the moment it sent Michael back to his timeline. He woke up in the early morning the day after sleeping off a gunshot graze to the shoulder in a knotted mess of sticky sheets that clearly wasn't only sweat. Whatever it was, it'd been a hell of a wet dream.
Not two days later, he was back on a case. A friend of a friend of Sam's, a pompous ass of a legitimate antiquities dealer, had been the victim of an early morning break-in. The job was interesting in that the damage done in the theft was minimal, the thief clearly skilled, and only a single item was taken: a gaudy jeweled dagger that according to the legend had mystical powers. The ten grand cash up front with another twenty on delivery didn't hurt either.
Thanks to Barry and a couple connections that wished to remain anonymous Michael was able to get a little bit more of the story, and a location. Turns out the item was sought after by some Asian crime boss who'd put word out to operatives worldwide that he'd pay good money for the real deal, at least that was the story among far less reputable antiquities dealers in Miami. The item was supposed to be passed off in a private meeting, and even after exhausting all of his contacts Michael was lucky to find out the location only hours before the arrival time - he had one single email from the buyer to the thief to go on for his cover.
After incapacitating the buyer's representative (in the trunk of Sam's BMW) Michael tried to make himself at home in the obscenely upscale Fontainbleu penthouse in his best suit and tie, slicked his hair back and replaced his shades with square-framed spectacles in an effort to look like the sort of upperclass thug that would be making such a deal. Sam's genuine leather briefcase that had spent the better part of a decade collecting dust completed the image.
It was only a matter of time. The plan was to get the thief comfortable and take the trade as far as they could, if he was willing to take the bait case with only a single layer of twenties on top of printer paper without checking too hard - Sam and Fi were waiting outside to take him down. If not, well... Michael was armed and ready to roll. At the first sound of gunfire, Sam and Fiona would take the real contact and high tail it for a secure location.
Not two days later, he was back on a case. A friend of a friend of Sam's, a pompous ass of a legitimate antiquities dealer, had been the victim of an early morning break-in. The job was interesting in that the damage done in the theft was minimal, the thief clearly skilled, and only a single item was taken: a gaudy jeweled dagger that according to the legend had mystical powers. The ten grand cash up front with another twenty on delivery didn't hurt either.
Thanks to Barry and a couple connections that wished to remain anonymous Michael was able to get a little bit more of the story, and a location. Turns out the item was sought after by some Asian crime boss who'd put word out to operatives worldwide that he'd pay good money for the real deal, at least that was the story among far less reputable antiquities dealers in Miami. The item was supposed to be passed off in a private meeting, and even after exhausting all of his contacts Michael was lucky to find out the location only hours before the arrival time - he had one single email from the buyer to the thief to go on for his cover.
After incapacitating the buyer's representative (in the trunk of Sam's BMW) Michael tried to make himself at home in the obscenely upscale Fontainbleu penthouse in his best suit and tie, slicked his hair back and replaced his shades with square-framed spectacles in an effort to look like the sort of upperclass thug that would be making such a deal. Sam's genuine leather briefcase that had spent the better part of a decade collecting dust completed the image.
It was only a matter of time. The plan was to get the thief comfortable and take the trade as far as they could, if he was willing to take the bait case with only a single layer of twenties on top of printer paper without checking too hard - Sam and Fi were waiting outside to take him down. If not, well... Michael was armed and ready to roll. At the first sound of gunfire, Sam and Fiona would take the real contact and high tail it for a secure location.
Stumbling out of the dimensional door, Michael finds himself back in the silent loft. He's had entirely too much drink as he's spent the better part of a week in that state at Milliways pondering what he's doing in Miami against the backdrop of the end of the end of the universe. It's pretty Zen, really.
With a low moan, he stumbles to the foot of his bed and lets himself fall into the knotted sheets. He can smell Sam & Clementine clinging to the unwashed bedding, but he doesn't care - in the long run, it doesn't matter.
As he falls asleep, his phone gives a single low pitched chirp - the alarm to let him know his dimensional door is locked and he can't go back for who knows how long, if ever.
[ooc: Michael's in a bit of a funk, out of Milliways until after the shift - combing with the MM-verse and likely not continuing much of the TLH stuff as mun just doesn't have the time for it. Old friends, of course, always welcome. Profile and journal under construction for the next several days.]
With a low moan, he stumbles to the foot of his bed and lets himself fall into the knotted sheets. He can smell Sam & Clementine clinging to the unwashed bedding, but he doesn't care - in the long run, it doesn't matter.
As he falls asleep, his phone gives a single low pitched chirp - the alarm to let him know his dimensional door is locked and he can't go back for who knows how long, if ever.
[ooc: Michael's in a bit of a funk, out of Milliways until after the shift - combing with the MM-verse and likely not continuing much of the TLH stuff as mun just doesn't have the time for it. Old friends, of course, always welcome. Profile and journal under construction for the next several days.]
The house was filled with the aroma of another Westen Thanksgiving - not that there were many to base it on, but none the less it sure smelled like turkey and Malboros. Michael had excused himself from the bang-up good time that was sitting in front of the television with his mother and stepped outside for a breath of somewhat fresh late November air.
Sam was late, which really wasn't a shock - but he'd been on edge all week saying he had some big surprise for everyone at Thanksgiving. Michael just hoped it wasn't green bean casserole, that had been (unenthusiastically) taken care of. Of course, Michael wasn't exactly one for surprises and pretty suspicious about the whole thing.
Pacing down the front walk, Michael crosses his arms against the mild chill of what passed for winter in Florida. His shirtsleeves crumple against his tie and for a moment he almost looks menacing, squinting behind his sunglasses for signs of the car that should have arrived an hour previous.
Sam was late, which really wasn't a shock - but he'd been on edge all week saying he had some big surprise for everyone at Thanksgiving. Michael just hoped it wasn't green bean casserole, that had been (unenthusiastically) taken care of. Of course, Michael wasn't exactly one for surprises and pretty suspicious about the whole thing.
Pacing down the front walk, Michael crosses his arms against the mild chill of what passed for winter in Florida. His shirtsleeves crumple against his tie and for a moment he almost looks menacing, squinting behind his sunglasses for signs of the car that should have arrived an hour previous.
For the first time in a weeks, Michael slept... not only his typical half-waking snooze, but the sort of disgusting, drooling deep sleep he was only capable of with a sufficiently high blood alcohol level and an orgasm. He woke slowly, letting the previous night's events come back to him with a crushing accuracy. He'd gotten drunk, been a little bit of an idiot, floored an asshole... and somehow everything had ended up all right with whatever the hell was going on with the younger man that had apparently tumbled into his life unexpectedly.
Stretching his aching arms in the large bed, he only found cool silk each direction. Experimentally, he struck out blindly with his legs - still nothing. The headache was mild, but his mouth felt like he'd been chewing wool all night. Apparently he'd slept harder and longer than he'd actually intended to. "Zechs?" He asked quietly, not yet ready to open his eyes. "You here?"
Stretching his aching arms in the large bed, he only found cool silk each direction. Experimentally, he struck out blindly with his legs - still nothing. The headache was mild, but his mouth felt like he'd been chewing wool all night. Apparently he'd slept harder and longer than he'd actually intended to. "Zechs?" He asked quietly, not yet ready to open his eyes. "You here?"
