A Chat With YakuzaMature

A/N: Warning for Lucy's language. Seriously. She swears a lot. If you're sensitive to that stuff, skip the majority of this chapter. Mostly 'f-ck' and 'sh-t', but other stuff in some places too. Sorry, I was in a bit of a bad mood when I wrote this -.-


"Dr Morrow?” The man was hesitant, and the brunette didn’t give him any reason to stop being as such.

“Yes?” She snapped. 

“Are- Uh, Yakuza would like to have a word with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Um- Ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Lucy said dangerously. She had just finished her third surgery of the afternoon, she wanted at least some respect. She may be in the body of a thirteen-year-old, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get the respect she deserves. 

— — — — — 

“What is this about? I’ve got almost the entirety of New Haven to run, I don’t have time for your bullshit.” She narrowed her eyes at Yakuza, who just sat calmly behind his mahogany desk. 

“Yeah, we’d like some answers too. Preferably now.” Mocker - and it was Mocker, she had her professional demeanour on, all traces of Andrea wiped clean - stated, glaring at the Director with all the force she could muster. Derek was on a mission in Barbados, and it had them all on edge. Ellen was probably crawling around in the air vents as they spoke, being the fidgety bastard she was. 

“Well, you see, we have an issue.” His left eye twitched slightly. “It’s a huge operation, a group called the Blackjacks-“

“Vingt-Et-Un…” Mocker murmured to herself.

“- who have managed to secure themselves a base and a large influence over MI6’s M.”

“You’re kidding me.” Lucy deadpanned. “Just because we’re fucking British doesn’t mean I personally give a shit about MI6.”

“Your language is foul, you know that?” Mocker said to her.

“Yes, I noticed, you suave fucker.” The doctor shot back. 

“Ladies, please!” Yakuza interrupted, and both of them gave him annoyed looks. “This is important. Anyways, the Blackjack’s leader had pretty much erased any incriminating evidence from MI6. Which is why we need to find some elsewhere.”

“Like his house.” Lucy chimed in.

“Exactly.” Yakuza nodded. “Incidentally, he has a thirteen-year-old daughter. Who goes to Lucia Prepatory School.” He looks meaningfully at Lucy for a moment.

“Oh hell no.” Dr Morrow said, almost shouting. “No! I’m not actually a preteen, thank you very much! No! You can’t force me to go to a shitty private academy filled with prissy young girls! Not in a million years!”

“If you don’t take this mission, you’ll be required to take a month off from New Haven.” Yakuza said with a certainty that said that he already knew he’d won. 

“Is that a threat?” Lucy asked incredulously. 

“Yes.”

“Bloody buggering fuck. You wanker! Douchebag! SHITTY FUCKING BLOODY BUGGERING DOUCHEY MOTHERFUCKER BITCHY WANKER-GIT-TWAT.” She yelled, adding a few creative insults to his mother in there as well.

“A truly foul vocabulary. Do you kiss your mother on the cheek with that mouth?” Agent Carlson asked, managing to keep a straight face. 

“Fine! Jesus- Mary mother of god, fine! I’ll do the job!” Lucy snarled.

“Merde! Who could have guessed?” Mocker contributed, trying to stop herself from laughing. 

“Thank you. Mocker will be posing as your mother. The remaining information will be provided when you are debriefed.” Yakuza was all business now.

“How in Satan’s house of whores are you planning to pull that off?” Dr Morrow asked, her disbelief showing through the set of her furious face. “We look nothing alike!”

It was true. Lucy was deathly pale, whereas Andrea had dark black skin. Not to even mention that their bone structure wasn’t remotely similar. Lucy was short and stout, and Andrea was tall and slender. 

“You’re adopted.” Yakuza stated simply.

Lucy nearly hissed in frustration, pushing herself from the chair she had been in and stomping out, slamming the door as she left.

“I’m not happy with you right now.” Mocker said plainly before exiting.

“Oh sweet Jesus. Save me from whatever retribution those two come up with.” The Director muttered, finally giving in to the urge to press his face to the mahogany of his desk once everyone had evacuated the room. 

The End

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