#immortal fahc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miss-ingno · 4 years

Text

Soft As Silk

Fandom: ragehappy, fahc Ship: one-sided Fiona/Lindsay (aka Fiona got a ~crush) Words: 3.1k Tags: immortal fahc, noir au, 20s fahc, Terms’verse, selkie!Fiona, phoenix!Lindsay, more hints at what Gavin’s deal is, speakeasies, illegal drugs and alcohol

Summary: Fiona joins the Fakes in 1920s Los Santos.

A/N: written for @fionaweek. I used a lot of only lightly researched 20s slang, there'll be a list of translations at the end (in order of appearance).

Read here on Ao3 or Patreon.

***

Ramsey's speakeasy was the place to be in town if you wanted some fun. Even Fiona knew this, as new to this shore as she was. Tonight was her first time downstairs, however, having been twirled across the dancefloor by the blond Brit with the sharp eyes two nights in a row. He was fun, always a proper gentleman about it, and they'd talked about their respective homelands with thinly veiled nostalgia.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he'd approached her the minute she entered, all gallant bows and banter, ushering her to a corner table not far from the dancefloor. The tables to either side were crowded, not so subtly checking the corner table on the regular, envy writ large across faces. Someone was holding court at that table, and while no one dared come close uninvited, they watched those who did with rapture.

Like Fiona, on the arm of the blond Brit.

The crowd and curious onlookers parted for him, marking him as someone well-known in these circles. Fiona’s gaze wandered over the people sitting at the table, heart beating too fast. A part of her expected Ramsey to be the one holding court, but as they stepped up, the woman sitting across from them turned away from her neighbour, conversation petering off.

Fiona’s breath caught.

The woman was simply stunning. She was wearing a red flapper dress with layers of fringe that went from a deep orange to a yellow so bright it was almost white, with gold beading peeking out from under the strings whenever she shifted. White opera gloves wrapped her arms to the elbows in gleaming satin. None of those details mattered, however, compared to the brilliant smile that took Fiona’s breath away.

She had seen the sort of beauty that men went to war for, having spent most of her teenage years in the Aegean sea. The woman met her gaze with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and Fiona finally understood why the Greeks had been so obsessed with Helen of Troy.

“Here you go, doll,” the blond Brit said, pulling out a chair for Fiona. A sharp retort sat on the tip of her tongue, but before she could rejoin, the woman already answered, making Fiona realize the Brit hadn’t been talking to her.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she drawled, her voice deeper than Fiona had expected. She folded her gloved hands under her chin, eyeing Fiona up and down. Fiona quirked an eyebrow in return.

“You wanted to see me, Ma’am?”

That pretty mouth quirked into a grin, eyes hooded as she watched Fiona. “Of course, darlin’. Wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t.”

"Of course," Fiona agreed, crossing her arms on top of the table. "I assume I'm supposed to know who you are?"

Next to her, the Brit choked on his drink.

"Possibly." The woman laughed, the honest kind that came from deep within. She held out her hand across the table. "Hi. Lindsay Tuggey."

"Fiona Nova," she returned, shaking Lindsay's hand. "Nice to meet you. I think."

"So," Lindsay said, leaning back and eyeing Fiona over her own drink, bracelets clinking against the glass. "What brings you to our beautiful corner of this world?"

Fiona shrugged one shoulder casually, her silver-grey stole shifting, turning the motion almost supernaturally fluid. She was wearing a simple, black flapper dress with pearl earrings, accentuated by the wavy bob haircut. Lindsay's eyes traced up the stole to the earrings, eyebrows rising ever so slightly.

"I was bored, to be quite honest," she quipped, meeting Lindsay's eyes. "I hear there's fun to be had here."

"Depends on what you call fun," Lindsay drawled, a wide smirk spreading across her lips. Her eyes flickered to her earrings and back. "Fancy jewelry you got there." She let her gaze dip down to Fiona's coat curled around her shoulders like fur before slowly dragging her eyes back up. "Very… unique."

Recognition glittered in her eyes, and Fiona tensed at the implication, one hand rising to lay on her coat. But she caught herself, smoothly redirecting her hand to gesture to the pearls.

"Oh these?" Her laughter sounded forced even to her own ears. "Ah, non. They're faux, I'm afraid. Fake. But don't they look just like the real thing?"

"Just so," Lindsay murmured, quirking an eyebrow, before letting it pass. Her eyes lingered on Fiona’s stole a moment longer, making the hairs on Fiona’s neck stand up. But before she could decide whether or not to leave, Lindsay favoured her with a sharp smile and continued, “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” Fiona eyed her warily, shooting a quick glance at the Brit next to her, who was acting bored but used the pretense to keep an eye on the crowd.

“Indeed.” Lindsay pulled out a thin case of cigarettes, setting one into an elegant, black holder. Gaze locked with Fiona, Lindsay flicked the end with her pointer finger, a flame bursting from the tip, there and gone again. No one else seemed to notice the small display of the extraordinary.

Lindsay pulled, blowing small, delicate rings of smoke before offering the whole thing to Fiona. Fiona took it gingerly, trying not to grimace at the taste.

“What sort of proposition?”

“Well,” Lindsay drawled, taking the fag back and gesturing lazily with it. Her gaze wandered pointedly across the crowd, eagerly pressing close to listen in. “That depends entirely on your definition of ‘fun’.”

Lindsay shot her an exaggerated wink, and Fiona swore her heart skipped a beat.

“Gavin, be a dear and show our friend around, hm?”

The Brit glanced at her quickly, before turning to Lindsay. “She on the up and up?”

“Pos-i-lute-ly,” Lindsay drawled, and Fiona choked on a laugh. Now that was some silly slang she hadn’t come across yet.

“Darb,” the Brit - Gavin - responded, pushing his chair back and standing up. He held out his arm for Fiona like a gentleman, and with one last searching look at Lindsay, Fiona took it.

“You’re staying here?” Fiona couldn’t help but ask.

Lindsay shrugged, gesturing at the other people sitting at the table, pretending hard they weren’t listening. “Gotta punch the bag some more. I’ll be down later.”

***

Downstairs turned out to be much quieter than the above club. The music was just as loud, but nobody was dancing. A game of poker took place at one of the tables, gentlemen of various ages and states of dress smoking cigars. They each had a glass of bootleg at their elbow, talking in low voices while eyeing each other up like sharks. Ramsey sat amongst them, tie loose around his neck and shirt rolled up to the elbows. His face was the most expressive amongst the players, mustache quivering with rage and eyes crinkling with laughter in turn.

Along the short wall of the room stood a bar, the red-headed bartender cleaning glasses and talking to two customers seated on the stools. He caught Fiona’s gaze across the room, his welcoming smile almost hidden in his bushy beard.

Several stools apart sat a kid in his late teens, huddling in a purple sweater, the only one not dolled up in the entire establishment. Fiona caught a glimpse of little bags of dope he shoved into a messenger bag, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he worked for Ramsey. Something flickered around the edges of him, something slightly off in the way the light caught his glasses. Fiona shivered, unable to look at him long.

Instead, her gaze was caught by a flash of red eyes from the corner behind the kid.

“Don’t worry about him, doll,” Gavin murmured as he tucked her towards the bar. Fiona kept an eye on the vampire regardless. “He’s not here to hurt nobody, promise.”

“Oh yeah, tell it to Sweeney,” Fiona snorted, but let herself be led away.

Gavin just shrugged. “He’s crew.”

The bartender extricated himself from the other two clients as they approached, giving Gavin a nod and Fiona a questioning look. If Fiona didn’t know better, she’d say he was a selkie, too, with his broad stature and nice, round belly. He reminded her of her aunt, she thought, he had that same sort of calm aura.

“Two of your best, Jack,” Gavin ordered, settling onto a stool. Fiona mirrored him.

“Sure thing,” the bartender - Jack, replied, turning to Fiona, “Anything you like in particular?”

“You got any ginger gin?” Fiona quipped, because Jack was a ginger and the local gin mill, apparently.

Jack let out a belly-deep laugh. “You’d get along fine with Jeremy.”

He handed them two tumblers of moonshine, and Fiona took a careful sip. It tasted strongly of peaches, but not in a bad way. She clinked her glass with Gavin’s before taking another swig. “Cheers.”

They ambled over to the poker table. The gentlemen tipped their hats at them, puffing on their cigars. They were wearing suits, ties and vests, though most of them had lost the jacket at some point. Gavin pulled a chair for her, and Fiona blew him a kiss in thanks.

“Deal me in, fellas.”

“There’s some heavy sugar riding on this, Jane,” one of the men piped up, watching her from under the brim of his fedora. “You sure you can keep up?”

Fiona opened her mouth, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but Ramsey waved them off. “I’ll put up her ante.”

“And here I thought she was the limey’s moll!” The men roared in laughter, but Ramsey just quirked a brow as he dealt her in.

“He didn’t even offer to take her coat, Flynt, I don’t know what you expected,” another razzed the first man, or perhaps the joke was directed at Gavin.

“You want beef, old man?” Fiona challenged them both, narrowing her eyes.

Flynt held up his hand, laughing. “Nah, doll, we’re good. Some of us have seen a stole before, it’s all the rage with the dames these days, Sloth.”

They continued bickering while Fiona tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders, meeting Ramsey’s observant gaze.

“Well, fellas? Are we starting or am I playing with pikers?” she taunted, which they denied immediately and with much shouting.

Needless to say, she took great pleasure in taking them for what they were worth. Ramsey didn’t lose the smirk once as he watched her making them eat their words. But when she tried paying him back his dough, he held up his hands. With a calculating glance zozzled gangsters, he offered her his arm and walked her a ways away, Gavin trailing after them with her winnings in a bag.

“Why don’t you show up here tomorrow at noon? Let’s call it a favour for a favour.”

Fiona raised her brows because she wasn’t stupid, she heard what type of man Ramsey was. But then, she had been looking for something shiny to catch her eye, and Lindsay obviously worked for this man. As did the vampire, who had lurked in his corner all night. A curious crew.

“One favour,” she stipulated, and Ramsey barked out a laugh.

“Just the one,” he agreed, clasping her hand in a firm grip. They both knew she would be back more often than that, now that her curiosity was piqued.

***

Working for the Fakes turned out to be pretty fun, all told. They provided her with the goods and a gun to defend herself, and more importantly, the Fakes never went out alone. Her favourite jobs were the ones she was partnered with Gavin. He generally took care of negotiations and deals, and Fiona got to try out various roles like putting on different coats to see how they fit. The bored, rich doll, a baby vamp, the dumb Dora, or even taking a turn at talking herself, all of which made a great whoopee.

Especially when they stole Geoff’s swell Ford Roadster afterwards for a joyride.

They drove way past the speed limit, nearly crashing into oncoming traffic twice and got chased by a fuzzy on horse halfway across the city. Fiona couldn’t stop laughing, and Gavin’s giggles kept setting her off again every time she caught her breath. But they shook the fella off somewhere around the public park, so everything was jake.

They ended up on the pier with a basket of sandwiches and a bottle of giggle water between them, legs dangling above the water as they exchanged stories.

“Go chase yourself!” Fiona laughed after a particularly outrageous story that involved a bank heist and duck masks.

“It’s true!” Gavin insisted, unable to keep his giggles to himself as he gestured with the bottle. “I even got Ryan to wear one, swear on God and cross my heart!”

“The vamp?” Fiona questioned, nose wrinkling as she snatched the bottle back and took a swig herself. Gavin shot her a careful look.

“In some senses of that word, yes.”

“Bull,” she called, dodging as Gavin tried to swipe the bottle back. “There’s no way Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass agreed to that.”

“Did too,” Gavin laughed, tackling her. She instinctively let go of the bottle to grab hold of her coat, and Gavin rolled off her with his prize, smirking. “So what’s your most fantastical tale?”

Fiona hummed, shrugging off her coat and shifting to sit on top of it, just to be sure. Gavin was watching her with too clever eyes, smirk slipping. He offered her the bottle back, like some sort of apology, but she wasn’t gonna say no to more midday booze.

“I used to have this fat pet rabbit. I called him Chungus.” She tilted her head back, letting the breeze brush over her skin. It smelt of sea salt mixed with the stink of oil.

“And?” Gavin leaned forward, clearly curious. Fiona smirked.

“And that’s it. That’s the craziest thing I’ve seen.”

Gavin sputtered and Fiona laughed, chucking the rest of the booze in one long gulp.

“Bushwa!” Gavin called, even as Fiona dangled the bottle upside down to prove its emptiness, her eyebrows dancing merrily. “I call bull! No way that’s the extent of your adventures.”

Fiona shrugged one shoulder, before pushing both of her fists to her cheeks, smushing her lips together. “It had cheeks like this. All chunky and adorable.”

“Bushwa,” Gavin repeated, pinching her cheek. Fiona batted her lashes at him.

“It was so cute, Gav! Just adorable!”

Laughing, Gavin snatched the empty bottle from her lap, twirling it between his idle fingers. “Okay, alright. Your craziest story, then.”

Fiona dropped her hands in her lap, humming thoughtfully. She stared out to the sea, listening to the waves crashing against the pier. It sounded different than the cliffs she was used to, but still soothingly familiar.

“You ever see a dame so beautiful you would drown for her?”

Gavin choked, the bottle tumbling from his fingers and landing with a splash in the murky waters below. Fiona thumped his back helpfully.

“Is this about your crush on Lindsay?” he finally sputtered, trying to slap her hand away. So rude.

“As if you don’t have a crush on her, too,” Fiona parried, sniffing haughtily. “As if anyone with eyes doesn’t have a crush on her, hello? Have you met Lindsay?”

“I mean, duh.” Gavin shook his head. “But I wouldn’t do that to my boi.”

“You mean Michael?” Fiona tilted her head, but she hadn’t seen Michael and Lindsay together yet. “He got a crush on her, too?”

Gavin shrugged. “They have… something. I don’t know. I won’t come between them, though.”

“Bummer,” Fiona murmured. She figured there was more to that story, because she could’ve wagered Gavin and Michael had a thing, instead. Or maybe too was the right word. Trying to lift the tension, she joked, “and here I thought I finally met a classy dame I had a chance with!”

Gavin elbowed her, so she shoved back. They squabbled for several moments, as if to make up for the serious mood they’ve fallen into. The playful slap fight turned into a tickle fight instead, until they both lay on the wooden pier, panting for breath.

“I met a siren once,” Gavin admitted, startling Fiona. She pushed up onto her elbows and watched him from the corner of her eyes. “Back when I was travelling by ship.”

When he fled Britain for the new world, she surmised. She wondered what happened, but knew better than to ask. Instead, she went for the more important question.

“Oh yeah? How come you’re still alive then?”

“Who says I survived?” Gavin mused with a faux philosophical air, turning a smirk her way. She slapped his elbow in retaliation. “‘Sides, maybe she fancied me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Fiona scoffed, flopping back down while Gavin sat up, pulling his legs under himself.

There was a familiar sort of longing in his eyes, the way he stared out at the sea. As if he didn’t belong on land. Fiona knew that feeling very well, and it made her curious. Gavin had seemed human to her from the first moment she met him, but he surrounded himself with people who were… more. Like Lindsay, or Michael, or the ghost that haunted their speakeasy slash headquarters. And apparently met a siren and lived to tell the tale.

“You wanna go for a swim?” Fiona asked, impulsively. Gavin blinked and turned to look at her.

“Here? At the docks?”

Fiona shrugged, the straps of her dress falling off her shoulders. “Where else?”

Without waiting for Gavin’s response, she shimmied out of her dress, kicking off her shoes and rolling the hose down her gams. Then while he was busy sputtering and blushing, she picked up her coat and ran for the edge of the pier, slipping the coat on just as she leapt.

Diving in a high arc, a seal splashed into the waters below.

When she resurfaced, Gavin was leaning over the pier, peering down at her. Fiona stared back, clapping her flappers against her tummy to make funny noises, then giggling to herself. Gavin just stared down at her, shocked. But before doubt could sneak in and make her second guess her decision to reveal herself, he started cooing, hearts visibly in his eyes.

“Oh my God! Look at you! You’re so cute!” He leaned down and reached out for her, and she bumped her nose against his fingers, making him squee. “Your fur’s so soft! Softer than silk! And your nose is wet! You’re so chubby, oh gosh!”

Fiona snickered, throwing herself around and splashing Gavin with her fin. The indignant squawk was worth it.

“Oh, you’re on!” Gavin yelped, and with another splash, he joined her in the water.

So worth it.

speakeasy - a bar selling illegal alcohol

doll, dame - woman

fag - cigarette

on the up and up - legitimate, honest

pos-i-lute-ly - affirmative, mixture of positive + absolutely

darb - great

punch the bag - small talk

bootleg - illegal alcohol

dope - drugs

tell it to Sweeney - tell it to someone who’ll believe you

gin mill - seller of hard liquor

moonshine - homebrewed whiskey

fella - guy

heavy sugar - a lot of money

Jane - any woman

limey - a British person

moll - someone’s girlfriend

razz - to make fun of, tease

beef - a problem

piker - coward

dough - money

zozzled - drunk

baby vamp - a pretty or popular woman (usually a student)

dumb Dora - an unintelligent woman

whoopee - wild fun, a good time

fuzzy - a cop on patrol

jake - fine (as in everything’s jake/fine)

giggle water - alcohol

Go chase yourself! - Get out of here!

bushwa - bullshit

gams - legs

#terms and conditions apply #ingno writes #ragehappy #fahc #immortal fahc #supernatural fahc #fake ah crew #immortal fake ah crew #supernatural fake ah crew #fiona nova appreciation week #fiona week #fiona nova week #fiona appreciation week #selkie!Fiona #fic rec #I missed this verse #this was fun to get back into it

41 notes · View notes