|[FIC] Business Trip
||[Jun. 4th, 2005|08:06 pm]
Title: Business Trip
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Fandom: Constantine, the movie, but with brief allusions to the comic as well. The only universe you need is the movie, though. This is post-movie, and probably not too far post-.
Pairing: a joking, John-is-vaguely-in-denial sort of John/Chas
Disclaimer: Not mine. All to DC/Vertigo and the peons whom they licensed Hellblazer to.
Summary: John takes a business trip to Mexico.
Warnings: It's in a diary-like format, but in third person. Also, John breaks the fourth wall.
John hates going out of the country. Look, he loves Mexico as much as the next pseudo-suicidal demon-deporter, but fuck, limiting cigarettes?
If he’s going to survive, he’s going to have to end up smoking those half-wild things they call cigarettes but which aren’t really if he doesn’t want to go broke.
(It’s not even as bad as the time he was in London and ended up smoking pack after pack of these horrible British ‘Silk Cuts’ because even though they were fucking awful he couldn’t help himself).
No way. No fucking way are they catching John Constantine without a nicotine fix.
* * *
At least he knows what the problem is. He has no idea where the demon is, but he knows what kind it is. Really powerful if it’s affecting all of the little village, though. Maybe he’ll have to call Midnite for reinforcements (yeah right – those reinforcements would be Chas, complete with his multitudinae of books and silver holy things and duty free cigarettes because now Chas is old enough to be smoking).
Then again, maybe he will radio for backup.
* * *
It’s in the kid. He doesn’t know why it’s there, but it’s in the kid. Nothing weird about it; kids are easier to possess than adults. They have more imagination and, except for magi, are generally more connected to the spirit world.
John’s an exception, of course. He’s banking on it. The moment he tries to work magic, that thing is going to be on him like the hordes of Hell on the recently-suicidal Gabriel.
He is on his last five packs of cigarettes.
* * *
He got rid of the thing in the kid. It was not the thing he’s looking for. He got paid for it, but he sure isn’t using the money to buy these fucking half-assed cigarettes they sell down here, even though he’ll be out tomorrow.
He’s going to call Chas and have him mail some.
* * *
* * *
Binding a stupid little half-assed demon who’s gotten some adult to sacrifice rabbits should not be this hard.
Wait, is it two demons, or just one? John can’t tell anymore. His eyes can’t focus and his hands are shaking so bad the circle turns into a fractal diagram. Or something. He thinks it’s a fractal diagram. It may be a graph of the magnetic field of the Earth. He’s not sure he can see it well enough to tell, and the priest standing nervously in the corner only speaks enough English to say “Here” and only enough Latin to recite the Mass.
Thank someone they don’t listen to Vatican II out here in the backwater, because it’s enough for him to communicate. Barely. If he can hear it past the Mexican accent.
* * *
* * *
If he were gonna be all sentimental about it, he’d have to marry Chas just so the kid would be there next time he runs out of cigarettes. As it is, he just says, “Thanks, kid. No, you can’t come with,” and lights up.
He’s gonna marry Chas someday for this.
Oh, fuck you. No, not Chas. You. Like, fuck off and quit grinning like that.
* * *
It’s easy. One demon, one rabbit, a little blood, and some judicious application of bullets, and it’s over.
There’s cash in his hand – good, solid American greenbacks – and a cigarette between his lips and Chas in the driver’s seat on the way to the airport and life is good.
Except, of course, for that melty woman in the corner of the plane, but he’s used to that.
Silk Cuts are the specific brand of cigarettes that comic!John smokes. They are, in the comic, generally acknowledged as being absolutely awful.
Magus is a word that the comics regularly use to refer to comic!John. In the comics, he doesn't have the Sight; he has the whole magical kit'n'caboodle.