Return to Speak Easy Chapter One

Speak Easy

Author: TazRaven (Sara)
Rating: PG-13 for language
Feedback: Yes, please, I love it. Please leave feedback on the Speak Easy thread on the Kitten Board.
Distribution: The Kitten Board, Through the Looking Glass, anyone else just ask.
Disclaimers: I do not own Willow or Tara, but you all know that.

The empty warehouse sat on the docks, its windows dusty and dark. A Chevy delivery truck, the lights extinguished despite the blackness of night, stopped in front of the building. The passenger's side door opened with a soft creak, allowing a man immaculately dressed in a black chalkstripe suit to exit the vehicle. He opened the folder in his hands and quickly looked over the contents of one of the pages, making sure everything was in order, before walking the rest of the way to the side door. It was his last night in the business, and he wasn't going to let anything go wrong. He made no attempt to avoid the street lamps, as they had all been conveniently broken prior to his visit. Rapping his knuckles three times against the cold metal door, the man paused and waited for the reply. Five taps met his call, allowing a silent sigh of relief. He knocked twice more and was greeted with the door opening. Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside.

"Everything in order?" a gruff voice asked from the darkness of the warehouse.

"Bootleg's all packaged and ready for delivery," the man answered. He held his hand out, the folder trembling slightly in his grip. All he wanted to do was get the delivery done and go home. "All right here."

A hand, invisible in the pitch black of the room, removed the folder from his grasp. "In the truck, then?" the voice asked.

"Yeah." Without another word, the man turned to leave, looking forward to no more midnight deliveries or pitch black warehouses.

"Hold on, mac," he heard the voice say. "I think we're missing something."

The man turned to face the voice. "Look man, it's my last night. Everything's right there," he protested.

"You forgot something," the voice reiterated.

A click echoed throughout the empty space, a noise that the man had heard before. He was barely able to register the sound of a gun being cocked before it was fired. The flash bounced off the walls, lighting the space for half a moment before returning it to its pitch black state. And on the ground, the man took his last breath and retired from the business.

Continue to Speak Easy Chapter Three

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