Below The Surface - A Lackadaisy Fanfiction

Listen Close, Follow My Instructions

The smoke filled his office early in the morning. The sun was bright after last night's storm. Lacrimosa and Mr. Sweet were sitting, face to face, laughing about some story from long ago. This was all so mundane to her, she never wanted to sit and chit-chat personally.

"Well, my sweet, you are certainly a card." Lacrimosa spoke with a cigarette in between her teeth, hissing out the smoke. Mr. Sweet chuckled, tapping the ash out of his cigar into the ashtray.

"You certainly bring out the best in me, you know." He commented.

"Do I, now?" Lacrimosa smirked. She had to fight back the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"Very much so." Mr. Sweet returned the smirk. "It's truly an honor to see you sitting in front of me. I heard your reputation all over the place. Not to mention whenever your crooning voice comes on the radio."

"Ah, you're too kind." Lacrimosa waved a hand, portraying that sickeningly sweet smile.

"No, no, I'm serious! We should have you in the Marigold room for a couple of nights, to show your absolute talent." Mr. Sweet suggested. Now this piqued her attention. Her eyebrows rose.

"That's quite an offer, my dear." She drawled. This meant that she could sneak in some alcohol into her jazz lounge, as well as have her group commit some murders. This could mean chaos. Raquelle might get tipsy again, Silas will flirt and mingle with any man there, James and Mandisa will be away from the crowds, and Celeste...agh, poor thing: I keep forgetting she's expecting her twins...yet she's so stressed out, so maybe treating her and the rest of them would be a little breather. She smiled more. "Mind if I bring along a few colleagues of mine?~"

"I wouldn't mind at all! The more people the merrier!" Mr. Sweet encouraged.

"Excellent! I would be more than happy—" Lacrimosa was cut off by a knock or two. Mr. Sweet gave a smile, slowly getting up and walking to the door. He opened it to be met with Mordecai.

"Ah, there you are! I was worried about you." He clapped his shoulder. Mordecai gave a lethargic hum, then a small yawn, covering his mouth.

"No need for worries: I'm quite alright." He walked over behind his desk. Amber eyes met olive green. Both of them held each other in their vision.

"This is the little hatchetman you were talking about?" Lacrimosa teased, leaning back in her chair.

"...you told her about the hatchet joke?" Mordecai whispered to Mr. Sweet.

"Of course I did!" Mr. Sweet chuckled, and Mordecai muttered something incoherently, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm unaware of you discussing such matters with strangers." He chided, blinking at Lacrimosa's giggle.

"Oh honey, it was much too cute to not listen to it!" She commented. "If you're worried about it getting out to the public, don't be: your little inside joke is safe with me~"

"See? She wouldn't tell a soul: she's a peach." Mr. Sweet rested his hands on her shoulders. Mordecai examined her: something wasn't right. Yet she did look familiar to him.

"Pardon my lack of knowledge upon this subject, but mind if I ask who you are, ma'am?" He thought it would be better to get the question out.

"Mordecai," Mr. Sweet began.

"No, no, he's alright." Lacrimosa held her hand up. There is no time for introductions. She pondered. Yet here she was, about to introduce herself. She stood up, revealing that she was much taller than Mordecai, due to her heels. He craned his neck to look up at her. His gaze flicked down to her hand being held out. "Lacrimosa Ambrose. Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetpea."