Chapter Text
He should have known this would all go tits up when he heard the client’s story.
Killed by a cult in the backwoods of Who The Fuck Cares, USA was one thing, but killed by a Christian cult, aka the worst fuckin kind of cult in the Western Hemisphere? Let’s just say that Blitz was looking forward to getting revenge for the poor woman, and had packed extra guns just for the fun of it.
However, it seemed as though it still wasn’t enough.
It had been him and Moxxie, insisting that two against three targets would make the game more interesting… however-
“Why the fuck do they have assault rifles!?” Blitz shouted as they ducked under a barrage of fire. Behind them were the three targets, each about as much of a physical threat as a fifty pound bulldog with asthma, but carrying guns that could flatten a schoolbus full of children.
“We’re in Mississippi, Sir!” Moxxie shouted back. “It’d be more surprising if they didn’t have assault rifles!”
From behind them, Blitz heard a heavily accented voice that somehow sounded like it had adult acne and had never had a conversation with a woman in its whole pathetic existence. “Rebuke, demons, for our Lord will smite thee!” It made Blitz want to vomit.
“Fuckin’ gross,” he mumbled, mildly consoled by the thought that, although their weapons were entirely too powerful, the losers at least had shitty aim. A bullet whizzed through the air near his head and he was suddenly yanked sideways, Moxxie grabbing him by the arm and pulling the two of them behind a nearby boulder.
The gunshots continued for a moment longer before the biggest and ugliest of the three guys, probably the leader of whatever pathetic incel bullshit this was, shouted for them to hold their fire.
For a few, impossibly slow seconds, there was complete silence, save for the occasional snapping of a twig. He shot Moxxie a look, hand reaching for their artillery bag, laser-focused-
The silence was broken by the blaring of his phone in his pocket, the ringtone slicing through the quiet and, just fuckin’ perfectly, giving away their position.
The next second, the ringtone was accompanied by the dulcet sounds of gunfire.
Moxxie immediately jumped into action, grabbing the closest gun and firing back with every iota of his sharpshooter nature. Blitz grabbed for the phone, fumbling with it for a moment as he willed it to shut the fuck up-
He froze when he saw the caller ID.
Wrld’s Sexiest Sekretary (Stols Wurk Fone)
And Satan’s Taint was he fuckin’ whipped because he answered the damn phone immediately.
Donning the most convincing casual voice anyone ever conjured that was absolutely convincing and not strained at all, he said, “Heeeeeey, Stolaaas! How’s it going?”
“Um, hello,” Stolas’ nervous, soft voice came from the other end, and Blitz had to stomp the lightness in his chest right the fuck back down, first and foremost because it was lame, and secondly because they were currently in a vicious firefight.
“Have I caught you at a bad time?” he asked tentatively.
“Sir, help!!!” Moxxie shouted over at him. Blitz let out a frustrated noise before wedging the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could dig in his bag for the Big Guns.
“Nope, not a bad time,” he answered with what he hoped sounded like an easy cheer, pulling out a sawed-off shotgun. “What can I do ya for?”
Back in the office, Stolas sat behind the desk, staring at the office, mostly empty save for Loona typing away on her phone with barely a care in the world, and twirled the phone cord nervously with his free hand.
“Well, I’m,” He coughed slightly. “I’m afraid there’s been something of an… incident here at the office.”
“Is everyone okay?” Blitz’s urgent question was punctuated by a loud BANG from the other end of the line. Stolas winced at the noise, pulling the phone away slightly.
“Are you sure you’re available to talk right now?” he replied nervously. “I can always call back.”
Gunfire flew over Blitz’s head as he held the phone in one hand while firing round after round with the other from their Absolutely Fantastic Point of Refuge Behind a Fucking Rock.
“Positive, now tell me what happened,” he bit, trying not to sound as urgent as he was feeling. “Everyone’s fine?”
“Yes, we’re fine,” replied Stolas. “The good news is that Loona is doing a wonderful job in her new role as I.M.P.’s Security Officer.”
Ugh. Damn bird’s stupid pretty voice was distracting and it was making Blitz have shitty aim. He watched as a round of fire bounced off some trees, hitting various other branches, the forest floor, and some unsuspecting Earth Sparrows. He grimaced.
“Yeah, yeah, Looney’s fantastic.” The shotgun jammed, and he tossed it over his shoulder before grabbing two pistols out of his bag, almost at random, and tossed on to Moxxie, who caught it with ease. “I’m guessing that’s not the incident, though.”
“Well,” Stolas continued. “Do you recall the client from last week who wanted revenge on his wife who poisoned him?”
“Less hot Frankenstein, yeah I remember.” He attempted to keep a calm demeanor as he tried to get a shot off on one of these losers, and watched with deep satisfaction as a round from Moxxie’s pistol finally connected with one of their skulls where it poked out from its hiding spot behind a tree. One down. “Nice one Mox!”
“Any time!” Moxxie cheerfully called back.
“He came into the office demanding a full refund,” Stolas’ voice rang from the phone.
“Refund?!” Blitz barked back, forgetting his rather dire situation momentarily. He was reminded when a smattering of pellets made contact a hair too close to his arm. He promptly resumed shooting at the fuckers. “Why the fuck does he want a refund? We killed his bitch wife no problem.”
Stolas looked over as the office door opened as Millie walked in, smiling and holding a tray of coffees which she’d offered to pick up for all of them.
“Well, that’s the issue,” he explained. “It seems that, although she was successfully killed-” a pause as Millie handed him his soy latte. “-Thank you, Mildred. It seems that, although the wife was successfully killed, she didn’t actually end up in Hell. Apparently, poisoning him was considered a great service to humanity… He was rather upset about it.”
“So, wait,” Blitz replied, letting Moxxie shoot at them for a few seconds while he dug around once more to see what other treasures he’d packed and immediately forgotten about. “You’re saying that the guy was such a massive dickbag that murdering him got her into heaven?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Blitz, despite everything, managed to find a second to grimace as he pondered the weight of the moral quandary before him. He then spoke definitively. “Wow. I’m gonna take about five minutes to feel bad about killing her later.” He was then snapped out of it by the distinct sounds of Righteous Hick Shouting and resumed shooting once more.
“And I’m afraid that’s not all…”
Stolas sat up straighter, the worst part of the news on the tip of his tongue. “Loona was able to get him out of the building, of course, but, ah… do you recall those stories you told me about your bad luck with your office’s window?”
“Y-yeah…?”
Stolas stared over at the jagged mess of metal and glass that had once been the leftmost window of the office.
He swallowed. “Well, I’ve now witnessed it first hand.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?!” Blitz paused to yank a grenade launcher from the bag, which he tossed over to Moxxie, who looked bewildered for a second before a wide smirk crept onto his face. But Blitz was too busy being annoyed to celebrate with him. “We had just gotten to three months without an incident with that window, that’s the longest we’ve gone! The fuckin’ insurance company is gonna be on my ass again. Ugh, tell Looney to reset the counter.”
“Yes, well, it got me thinking-“
Stolas scratched at the feathers on the back of his neck before continuing. “This was a rather unfortunate oversight on our part, and considering that I.M.P.’s business is only growing, it might be a good idea to create some sort of contract for clients to sign. It could help us deter future disputes and ah…” he pulled at neckline of his sweater nervously, “maybe help us screen clients a bit better. I’m obviously no lawyer, but I’ve read about contract law here and there and I think I could draft something up… That is, if you’d be willing to let me-”
Suddenly, there was a panicked shout of, “They’ve got grenades!” by an unfamiliar voice, followed by a loud explosion and cartoonish screams that came through staticky and blown out.
“Blitz?” Stolas called. “Are you alright?”
“HA! Did you see his face?! That’s two out of three, damn Mox, leave some for the rest of us!”
“You’re the one on the phone!!!” Moxxie’s shout reached Stolas’ ears.
A half-second later, Blitz’s voice rang clear again. “Anyway, you were saying?”
”Do you… think it’s a good idea?” he asked tentatively.
Blitz smirked as he loaded the chamber of his favorite pistol. “Fuck yeah I do, you’re great with all that fancy words bullshit, and I’d love to never have to deal with people asking for refunds ever again.”
“Or kill an innocent woman by mistake,” Moxxie deadpanned over from his hiding spot.
Blitz’s shoulders slumped and he grimaced. “Yeah, that too.”
“I can get started right away.” And now, despite the complaints that Moxxie wasn’t giving him a piece of the action, and despite the fact that there was still one bloodthirsty religious nut a hundred feet away, Blitz was struck dumb by the tone of Stolas’ voice.
His favorite ex-prince had gone through what could scientifically be called ‘a whole fuckin lot’ lately. Since getting his meds back, he’d evened out quite a bit, but this was perhaps the first time since his banishment that his voice held traces of his signature enthusiasm, muted, but still there. Once upon a (shitty) time, Blitz had acted put out whenever Stolas would get excited about something, but he now knew that his prior chagrin was a front, put there because he couldn’t let himself be endeared in any way, lest he walk down a dangerous path.
Well. Too fuckin late for that now.
He finally managed to shake himself from his stupor, deciding to spend an additional five minutes later reflecting on how utterly stupid he was for this damn bird. “Just don’t make it too many pages or no one’s gonna read it.”
“I’m afraid it will be at least a few. From what I know, indemnification clauses can be quite complicated.”
“You’re hot when you talk legal terms,” he teased, feeling a smirk grow on his face as he peaked over the rock, phone in one hand, pistol in the other, looking for that last bastard.
He tried not to be too distracted when Stolas voice turned teasing and - Blitz could dream - just a little bit sultry. “I believe that’s an HR violation.”
“Bitch, I am HR.”
“Technically I’m HR, Sir,” Moxxie chimed in.
“When the fuck did that happen,” Blitz asked, bemused.
Moxxie leveled him with an unimpressed stare. “When you didn’t want to do any of the paperwork.”
The next second, Blitz saw movement in his periphery. Instinct took over as he took aim and fired, bullet flying before it connected squarely with the head of the last Hickory Hucking FUCKER that they had to deal with that day.
“HA! That’s fuckin’ right, BITCH!!!”
He turned to give Moxxie the bitchin-est high five he could muster, and the two began throwing their arsenal back in its bag, eager to get the fuck out of dodge. It only took a few seconds before we was giving the Asmodean crystal a cursory rub.
“Sounds like it went well,” Stolas remarked. “Will you be back soon?”
And because he had the best fucking timing and a sense of flair to match, he tossed the packed bag at Moxxie as the portal back to the office opened and promptly jumped through, executing a fancy dive roll for good measure.
When he popped to his feet, he heard the sound of Moxxie stumbling through the portal with the bag behind him, promptly followed by the sound of the portal closing. But he didn’t bother looking because, in front of him, Stolas sat behind the desk, still holding the office phone, looking bemused.
“You know it,” Blitz answered smoothly before finally hanging up his phone.
And maybe it was the high of a job well done, or delusion, or the way Stolas had sounded almost happy at the prospect of writing up a fucking contract like that’s not the most boring thing Blitz could ever think of, seriously, what a weird, wonderful fucker he was. No matter the cause, he found he couldn’t quite fight the impulse to jump up on the desk and slide smoothly until he was perched on Stolas’ side of the desk, not touching, but perhaps too close to be deemed office appropriate.
“So,” he started as Stolas hung up the phone with that smile of his that was awkward in a particularly adorable way. “We finished a mission, you survived your first shitty customer service interaction…”
Stolas cut in, tone sheepish. “Oh, it was nothing. I’ve endured much worse.”
“Well. That’s concerning,” Blitz remarked, knowing exactly the type of personal history that comments like that could stem from. He pressed on. “But I’m sayin’ we should celebrate! How about the place down the street that serves soup dumplings?”
“Uh. Sir?”
Really, Moxxie??? Couldn’t he see Blitz was busy committing more HR violations right now? He whipped his head around. “What, Mox-?! Oh.”
Across the room, what was once the far window was now a jagged hole, roughly the size of a less-hot Frankenstein. Next to it sat Loona, who looked up from her phone, shrugged, and then went right back to scrolling.
Blitz blinked. Right. He’d forgotten. Well. There went his dinner date budget. “Oh Satan fuckin’ Dammit!!!!”