Fandomweekly Challenge 2 - Everybody's whore

[m_findlow]

Title: Everybody's whore
Fandom: Original
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 578 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 2 - Heartbreak at fandomweekly
Summary: Your first love stays with you forever.

They say you always treasure your first love. No matter where you go, they stay with you forever. I've got Brooklyn in my veins, born and raised, and she's never gonna let me go. We've got something special.

She loves me pounding her streets with these worn out old brogues. Sometimes she lets a little breeze come sailing past, whipping up the trash so it hits my legs. It’s like she’s flirting with me, those tender little touches. Maybe she’s a whore, flirting with every Joe that tickles her pavements but I still like to think she’s my whore, that sly little vixen.

Some nights it just the two of us. I wanna say "hey, what’s a good lookin' dame like you doing in a place like this?", then laugh. She could have her pick of rich stockbrokers or slick owners of the city's clubs. She could find herself some upper East-side high roller, or maybe one of those pretty boys that work down at the naval yards. Instead she's got me in my filthy trenchcoat and fedora. A private eye with eyes only for her. My city. My sweetheart.

Tonight it’s just us alone in this intimate moment. We’ve finally crossed that barrier between friends and lovers. It's a shame, me lying here, hot-blooded gumshoe spilling my hot blood all over her nice clean street.

One thing you learn in this game is that you never go poking your nose in the affairs of gangsters. Not unless you wanna be swimming with the fishes in Jamaica Bay. Only I couldn’t help myself. The money was good and I never could resist a dollface like that walking into my office. She was a damsel in distress with gams like a speakeasy canary.

Some wop of a boyfriend had gone missing. Did he like the dice? She nodded. Of course he did. Cards too, no doubt. Up to his eyeballs in debt with a bookie who didn't like extended credit terms. They don't like that. You paying your bills is the only way bad money gets cleaned up into good money. In this town it's the only language everybody speaks, and this doll was speaking loud and clear just how much was in it for me. Daddy was keeping her flush. Her boyfriend is dead as a dodo. This ain't nothing but a trip for biscuits, but if I play my cards right, maybe I'll get more than a handful of Lincolns for my troubles.

Now I guess I’m paying that price. The old girl let me down. Not the pretty broad who knocked on my door, but the one whose horn I've been blowing up since I was old enough to be able to tell a grifter from a g-man.

The streetlamp on the corner of Atlantic and Kingston has been busted for weeks. Thought I’d be able to hide in the shadows when the boss came rolling out of the back of the club. Only someone prettied her up, fixed her with a whole new light. Soon as I was spotted, they prettied me up, too. Fixed me up good and proper. End of the line proper, with some Mick’s bullet in my guts.

"Sorry, toots," I apologise. I'm gonna miss this damn old town. "We always knew things were gonna end in heartache," I tell her. "We had some good times though, yeah?" Until you sold me out, that is. Guess you really are everybody’s whore.