Burns slapped down another layer of cement, balancing with one foot on the wooden ladder that supported him. With a practiced hand he gracefully lay down a single brick and then paused, looking out over the wall and spitting out the juice that had accumulated in his mouth from his favorite cheap brand of chew tobacco. With a healthy sniff he rolled the wad of leaves to the other side of his mouth and spread another coat of cement to the right of his newly placed brick.

"Oy!" He called down with a reedy voice, "Get me s'more bricks."

"Finish the ones you already goddamned have up there, Burns."

Mike glanced at the wooden board that held the bricks and grabbed the last one, slamming it into place and almost cracking it in the process.

"There's yer finished clockin' bricks, boss." Mike said petulantly, casually tipping the wooden board off the side of the wall so that it flew down and almost landed on someone's head-- much to their surprise and very vocal disapproval.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut yer trap, ye finicky golly lovin' bastards. Or I'll shut it for yeh!" He shouted the last part, glaring down with faded blue eyes and spitting in that direction. Another cry of dismay from the poor bloke who managed to catch the brown tinged liquid on the shoulder.

Mike Burns didn't much care about the minor bouts of chaos he was causing below. If they hadn't learned to stay clear of him when he worked on the ladders, well arses to them.

He felt a tug on his rope and grunted his approval, lifting the load of fifteen or so bricks until he was able to place it on the wall. He rolled the tobacco around again, making sucking noises as he played with it absently in his mouth.

A whistle to his left attracted his attention to a pair of women walking by, and he joined in as a chorus of hoots, whistles, and stomach turning kissing noises filled the air.

"Ye look like ye got a fine pair o' hams on you, luv! Care to share some o' that lunch with old Mike Burns?"

Similar cat calls filled the air and Mike watched the women with his usual disquieting leer, only pausing to roll the leaves in his mouth around to the other side.

The two women kept walking, ignoring the jeers of the workmen. One of them stopped after hearing Burns' proposition. Her friend tugged on her arm, causing her brown ponytail to swish, but the girl was having none of it.

"Yeah, s'right, I am that desperate." She called back in reply, flicking her blonde hair over one shoulder. "Why don't you meet me at the B&B later today and I'll give you all the "ham" you want."

She made a rude gesture at him.

"Oi Dad!" She cried, at a quickly reddening foreman. "Fire that jackass, willya?"

The foreman looked up at Burns with all the wrath of an angry god.

"Ooo she's got some spunk, lads!" He called, running his tongue over his teeth, "That's alright. I always like it when they bite."



Oh shit! If Burns had had more shame he might have reddened. Instead he spat out of the side of his mouth and glanced at his boss, "Y'needa learn control of yer women, boss. I got me a nice muzzle at home that'll learn'er some manners, and a thing or two more." The suggestion was lewd, inappropriate, and not all that uncommon coming out of Mike's mouth, "I can lend it to ye for a price, arright?"

And if you can't learn 'er, I'll teach her myself. The thought made Mike smile and lick his lips again as he turned back to the thick grey paste and wiped it onto the ledge. He felt some small amount of concern at the back of his head that he might lose his job, but his mind was already constructing fantasies-- all revolving around the bosses daughter.

The heat was bothering the back of his neck and he felt a bead of sweat trickle down from it. Hastily rubbing in the moisture he layed down another brick.

The foreman had to be held back from climbing Burns' ladder and killing him with his bare hands. Some of the other workmen were laughing at Harland's crudeness but they were hiding it. There were two types of women in the world, loose and those you were related to. It didn't pay to insult another man's progeny in his presence, nor to suggest you'd like to sleep with them.

"I'll have your neck for this, Harland!" The foreman screamed. "You're fired, you're bloody fired and if I ever see you lay a hand on my girl you are dead!"

He sounded as though he meant it.

"Get off your high horse, ye great elerphant!" Mike yelled down, glaring at the man.

To fight, or not to fight...

On one hand, the foreman was pissing him off. Nobody threatened Mike Burns. On the other hand, it was so hot out that he doubted either of them would last without passing out.

"We all know I'm th'best brickie ye got, so shove a sock in it." This statement was only partially true. Mike was a damn good brick layer, thank you very much-- that is, he was a damn good brick layer when he cared enough to do his job.

"Besides, I wouldn' touch yer girl fer money!" He spat down at his boss nastily, "Wouldn' want ta' get the clap now would I?"

A more reasonable man than Burns would have known that was probably a stupid thing to say while your boss was raging mad, but Mike Burns lived in the now. In the right now. The word foresight wasn't in his vocabulary.

He spat out another round of brown tinted saliva from his mouth, wiping away the small amount of drool that had escaped from the side of his mouth with his arm and onto his pants. This wasn't shaping out to be a bad day.

The foreman was now screaming his rage. His face had gone even redder in the evening sun and he vaguely resembled a watermelon that had been cut open.

"I want you out now!" He screeched. "I can find a dozen other brickys that'll give me less trouble and none of your lip! Down now!"

Another, very large, workman walked towards the base of Harland's ladder.

"You might want to come down, son." He said, watching the foreman warily. "Perhaps give him a day to cool down before you come back."

"You'll never work in this town again!" Screamed the foreman, though it was largely an idle threat.

Mike sighed and rolled his eyes, "Arright, arright, don' get yer knickers...eh...tied up or sommat." The sticky brown wad of leaves in his mouth was beginning to lose its taste anyway.

The man climbed down a few rungs of the ladder before jumping down, landing a few feet in front of the foreman. The grin plastered on his face widened as he saw the man try to leap for his neck, only to be restrained by three other workers.



He finally spat out the leaves, managing to leave a messy brown trail of saliva on his lips. Burns opened his mouth and then clicked his teeth shut in the direction of his boss, "Bite me. I'll be back t'morrow. An' ye better not dock m'pay or I'll let yer woman an' yer daughter know 'bout it. At the same time."

Smart he was not, but Burns knew when a man had been stretched to the breaking. Time to high tail it out of here, Mikey. He made a hasty retreat, running down a back alley to make his way to the tavern.

Fion was walking down the back roads from her drop-off point to get to work. It was a pleasant enough evening but Fion would have rathered staying at home. She hadn't heard the news about the wicks being allowed back into Vienda yet, so her countenance was decidely troubled. She didn't notice Harland until he bumped into her.

"Oof!" She was pushed backward and tipped, landing on her rump.

She rubbed her back, looking up at the man that had pushed her over.

"Ow!" She said, giving Burns a pointed look.

Mike's hasty retreat was met with another body and he stumbled back, then raised an eyebrow. He surveyed the new woman with weasly eyes, and then smiled thinly.

"Well if ye liked me ye coulda jus' said somethin'. No need t'make a big production out of it. I'm a friendly enough guy..." He leaned on the wall, not bothering to help Fion up.

"And bumpin' into people, now thass jus' plain rude, if y'know what I'm sayin'." If it was possible for a lanky, slightly creepy man to look predatory, Burns had the expression down. His tongue ran over his teeth rapidly, in a habitual yet disgusting gesture that seemed to imply 'I wouldn't mind having you for dinner if you know what I mean'.

Fion glared at him.

"Don't help me up, I'm fine on my own." She said sarcastically, shifting her skirts to the side so she could stand up again. She ignored his line about liking him.



Fion snorted at him. This was almost welcome. The man that had bumped her over was human and she was off the clock. That meant she didn't have to sit there and take it like she always did.

"That was your fault and you know it!" She said, a sharp and motherly tone in her voice. "But guess what!?"

She was smiling now, almost ecstatic.

"I'm not being paid to put up with your crap!" It was a revelation.

She put both her hands on her hips and raised her chin at him. Sensibility reminded her that she was in an at-risk situation. She felt a spark flare that hadn't in a while. She waved a hand in front of her torso, like an invisible barrier.

"This..." She said pointedly. "Is a you-free zone."

Uhhh...what? Was she happy or angry? Mike's confusion was completely apparent in his face and he shuffled uncomfortably, "Eh...yes?"

Did I pick on the only crazy chick on the block?



Okay. This was a more familiar territory. Girls telling him to go away was something Burns was completely comfortable with. He had to be, it happened so often.

"Now, now, girl! I don' know where you think you got this authority cos I'm pretty sure that I was here first." There was a hint of a whine in his voice as he spoke, as well as a certain tone of natural superiority that he always used when speaking to women. He took a step closer to her. And another. And another, until he was towering over her. Her vantage point was such that if she looked hard enough she might be able to spot his brain-- his nostrils gave her that good of a view.

"So what was that you was sayin' about this bein' a me-free zone?"

His musky breath swept over her face, and he grinned down, "You ain't no golly, sweetheart. I could have you on yer knees in jest a few seconds." He made a kissing noise with his mouth, "Not tha' ye wouldn' do it willingly." He added nastily.

If Fion was being honest she did feel a bit intimidated but she'd also grown up in the Stacks. This was as much a challenge as it was sexual harassment.

"You just turned the corner running like a halfwit." She said, combatively. "I was here first!"



Fion batted her eyes.

"There's no point getting on your knees if there's nothing to get down for." She said, voice floating sweet.

She looked at a point behind Harland.

"Hello, darling, this man is bothering me." She continued, not even hinting that Harland actually was scaring her.

"Careful who you call halfwit, luv! I got more brains than you'n yer ol' man put together." Mike growled, the muscles in his jaw tightening.



Wait for it... and a few moments more... Ding! Comprehension dawned on Mike Burns, bringing with it a mottled blush of anger.

"Oy! What're you implyin' you stupid little golly lovin' trollop!!!" He asked with growing fury, grabbing her arm and pulling roughly.



Aw shiiit! Mike thought for the second time that day, letting go very quickly and practically shoving Fion away as he turned around, "Hey man she was comin' on ta me, ye'd do best t'get rid o' th'slut afore she--"

He blinked. Is her man hiding? he thought stupidly, his mouth slightly agape. Again, his brain caught up with his words and he let out an angry growl.

"You bitch!" he yelled as he turned around, faded blue eyes suddenly sharp with anger.

Fion's fist collided with Burns' face as he spun. She heard a click as she clipped his jaw and pain bloomed in her hand. She was terrified and furious. It had hurt when he'd grabbed her.

"That hurt you fucker!" She screamed. "And I am not a slut! You filthy rapist!"

Fion turned and ran, hoping that the connecting hit would give her enough time to get onto the main road and away from Burns.

If Burns had been on his guard he might not have stumbled from the blow, but really, who would have been on their guard for a woman? That was probably the thing that shocked him the most. A girl had hit him. Punched him, no less. It wasn't a slap, or a shove. She'd punched him and now he was falling on his ass because he'd managed to somehow trip over his own feet when he had stumbled.



Mike scrambled up, glaring with clenched fists at her quickly receding form, "YEAH? WELL FUCK YOU! AND YOUR MUM! AT THE SAME TIME, YOU WHORE!"

It wasn't terribly satisfying. For a moment, Burns considered going back to his job to start a fight with his boss, and then shrugged the idea off.

Stupid women. Stupid women and their clocking fists!

He glared into the distance, steaming with anger. "AND YOU'RE A LESBIAN! BITCH! GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

Yeah that's right. She was probably a lesbian. Burns was only slightly comforted by this fact-- it still hit him hard that he'd just been punched by a woman. And somehow he had fallen over from it. Thank Alioe none of the others were here or he'd never hear the end of it.

He cursed her internally all the way to the bar. There was no doubt in Mike's head that somebody was going to pay for this. That somebody being whoever happened to first talk to him at the bar.

The thought of a fight cheered him greatly, although he still felt extremely uncomfortable in the pit of his stomach. No matter-- it would all be forgotten with a few drinks, and a few well placed punches to the head.

Not his head...he hoped.

Fion ran until she was on the main street, earning her some funny looks from passersby. She stopped to catch her breath, pulse racing. That hadn't happened in a while. She was going to have to be more careful on her way home. She needed to sit down.

She kept walking to work instead.