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[ghostlight]

Comments

[fixen]

[ It's several days before Moonlight calls on Emerick again. When he does, he only mentions that his client was very impressed with how organized and thorough the work was. He says nothing about the child of Touma Miura. Instead, Moonlight offers Emerick another gig: this one urgent, requiring immediate availability and almost immediate turn-around. A small-time corpo has stolen a shard, and someone needs to klep it back - otherwise there will be war. Really, no one will notice a particular increase in the amount of bodies on the nightly news, but the eddies are good. Moonlight gets the feeling Emerick needs the eddies, but he wonders how far the man will go for them. Emerick has been nothing but professional, but medias don't usually have good reputations. (Emerick Kline has little in the way of reputation regardless. Moonlight assumes a pseudonym that he hasn't been able to track yet.) It makes him uncomfortable that Emerick has so easily acquired information about him; about a name he has not used in years.

He's nearly ready to return to his apartment for the night when his agent alerts him of a message. Moonlight is a little surprised, both by the time and the text, rather than a call, but decides to wait, all the same. He has nothing pressing to attend to tonight, anyway. ]

[ghostlight]

[ Emerick was pleased when Moonlight called again with another gig: the compliments felt nice to receive, especially given the work he did with the group received no comment unless things went poorly. The job was another that seemed simple enough on paper: sneak in, klep the chip, sneak out. If he was discovered, throw up enough dust and sneak out in the chaos. He could certainly see it done and get it to Moonlight with such time restrictions.

Things were pretty smooth - at least to start. Getting in was easy enough, but all hell broke loose by the time Emerick got his hand on the shard. He wasn't a huge fan of getting into any firefight but he could certainly hold his own - and did. It wasn't without incident though: he'd been grazed off his forehead and just over his hair line (it bled a lot, looked worse than it was Emerick recalled), another graze along the side of his neck, and there was likely more that Emerick wasn't even aware of. A bullet had found its way into his shoulder. It hurt like a bitch but it was something he could get treated later, after he'd been paid. Because he needed the eddies. Fuck, where did his eddies keep going?

He stepped out of the cab and had to hesitate outside of the door of Moonlight's office. He knew that he looked like hell and he was starting to regret coming here first. He barely looked put together to begin with, he didn't need to show up like this. He did want to get this thing off his hands, though, and turning things around this quickly - even if he looked like hell coming from it - meant more jobs.

The same tentative knock, stepping in once invited. This time, however, he carefully set the shard down on the desk. He'd hesitate to sit back on Moonlight's furniture, bleeding as he was. He did his best to keep his expression light and in the same professional calm as he had before but it was clear that his wounds were bothering him. ]

The shard, as requested. [ A pause, then Emerick realized that with the way he looked it wouldn't be unreasonable if Moonlight thought him sloppy. ] I made sure nobody followed me here. [ He also made sure nobody was left to come looking for him, but his personal well-being wasn't as important, he didn't think. Not in a way that Moonlight probably cared to know. ]

[fixen]

[ He checks the camera when it chimes someone's approach; it's habit, even though he knows it should be Emerick. So by the time Emerick is knocking on the door, Moonlight meets him there, expression one of open surprise - and concern.

Really, it's a little impressive Emerick is as outwardly calm about the whole thing as he is. Head wounds bleed a lot, Moonlight knows that from personal experience, but that isn't the only wound the media is sporting. ]

Sit. [ It's a command that brooks no protest. Moonlight points, and steps around behind his desk. From the cabinet on which his little altar sits, the fixer produces a sizeable first aid kit. He sets it on his desk, glances at Emerick again, then opens it. ] How many injuries? I see three from here. [ He rummages, setting an anesthetic injector out, along with bandages, antiseptic. Moonlight is a far cry from trauma team, but he's no stranger to wounds, either. His pearlescent prosthetic fingers hover over something out of sight in the case. Over his shoulder, ] Anything embedded? Bullets, shrapnel?

shoulder bullet can be as bad as you want, for the rp

[ghostlight]

[ When the command left Moonlight's lips Emerick stood stupidly for a moment. The command took him by complete surprise: the last thing he expected was to be told to sit down, for Light to pull out a first aid kit. He was honestly expecting no mention of his wounds except for, perhaps, a disappointed look. He does sit - carefully, very clearly trying not to move in such a way that his shoulder troubled him (to no real avail) - though his surprise is still rather plain on his face. ]

Three as far as I know. [ Was this really happening? Was this man, who he barely even knew, really going to go out of his way to treat his wounds? ] I- In my shoulder. I think my subdermal armor caught most of it, but I'm not sure.

[ Emerick shifted a little uncomfortably, wincing as pain shot through his shoulder and arm. He hardly wanted it to turn into this: he just wanted to be paid so that he could go get treatment and then fall face first into bed. ] I- Moonlight, you don't have to, really. I have a ripper I can go to, I just need the eds so I can pay him. [ Never mind he was in a completely different part of town and he'd have to sit through another cab ride to get there - it was clear that he just didn't want to inconvenience Moonlight. He figured the man wanted to get home just as much as he did, not stay late treating him because he failed to klep the chip without being noticed. ]

for the rp!!!

[fixen]

[ Moonlight nods; three wounds, one bullet. From the quick glance, that matched with what he saw. He seems to not hear Emerick's protests at first, circling back around the desk with the selected supplies, laying them out. He pushes towards the chip toward the relative safety of the other side of his desk, then perches against the side closer to Emerick. He pins back the loose part of his hair, then wipes his hands down with a cloth bearing the sharp scent of something sterilizing. As he does, he surveys Emerick again. ]

Sure, and you'll be lucky not to need a transfusion by the time you get there. I'm going to help you take your shirt off.

[ That is - he thinks - where the most blood is coming from. At least this way, he can survey the damage. Moonlight is both careful and gentle, despite his persona which seems usually lackadaisical and in this moment, clipped and business-like. He does as much as he can so Emerick doesn't have to stretch and strain himself. He's had both a bullet wound and stab wounds in the shoulder, he knows it hurts like a bitch.

Shirt aside, the fixer peers at the wound with a penlight. ] The armor mitigated some of it, but not enough. [ Not an armor-piercing bullet, but he's guessing this one was close range. A shot of local anesthetic to begin to work, and he turns instead to cleaning what he can. ] None of those suits are going to come after you, are they?

[ghostlight]

[ Emerick thought of protesting more but he knew better. He knew Moonlight had heard him and was opting to not speak as he focused on picking out what he would need. He wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk pissing Moonlight off, but this was already turning into something more than it needed to be. The mention of a transfusion caused whatever additional protests he might have on his tongue to die as a pang of guilt shot through him, though it didn't linger.

The mention of taking his shirt off made Emerick frown with the anticipation of the to do it was about to be. He knew it needed to be done and he even agreed with it but it was sharp even as he just sat here. He moved with Moonlight to get the shirt off, asking for just a moment halfway through as the wound smarted particularly hard. He knew he just had to power through and he found himself wishing it was just a broken rib like he was more accustomed to, but alas. He got out of it and sat still while Light looked at it. ]

Come after me? No, they won't be a problem. [ Emerick's gaze shifted down in an almost guilty way. He had no desire to say out loud that he'd dropped all of the ones that were gonk enough to stick around - hopefully Moonlight could figure that much out on his own. His gaze raised a little so that he could look up at Light, hiding behind lashes. ] I wouldn't be here if I thought it wasn't safe.

[ Whenever Light went to clean the cut at his forehead he would instinctively pull away a little. It wasn't quite so dramatic as a flinch but it was so ingrained in him to shy away from a hand coming from above his head that even now he still shrank away from that type of touch. As if to distract from the motion, Emerick spoke again. His guilt was bleeding through despite his best attempts to keep it calm and professional. ] I really am sorry, I know this is probably the last thing you wanted to do.

[fixen]

[ Moonlight's lip quirks at one corner. ] Good man. [ At least Emerick wouldn't have suits gunning for him as soon as he stepped out the door - and he wouldn't be bringing any trouble to his fixer. Not right now, at least.

The fixer fishes out the bullet with a pair of small forceps with a clinical sort of detached expression; he trusts the anesthetic to keep Emerick from being too miserable. He staunches the fresh rush of blood with gauze, and places a bandage over it. Emerick can shower the rest of the blood off later, Moonlight is hardly a nurse.

He will however clean the blood from Emerick's forehead, at least enough to see what kind of wound he's working with. When Emerick pulls back, Moonlight pauses. His gaze meets Emerick's. For a moment, he's silent, then he returns to his work with a cool expression, gingerly dabbing blood away. ] If I didn't want to help, I wouldn't. I'd give you your eds and put you back in the cab you probably bled all over on your way here. [ He says it plainly, matter-of-fact. ]

[ghostlight]

[ The anesthesia worked well enough: he felt no real pain, the quirks in his expression more related to the fact he could occasionally feel something digging around in his shoulder. He's otherwise very still so as to not Light any trouble as he worked. He didn't watch Light work, either, keeping his gaze specifically on Light or toward the side to avoid seeing anything. He wasn't particularly squeamish - he'd dug enough glass out of himself to be far beyond that - but something about watching someone else when he couldn't really feel it bothered him. Emerick looked like he was waiting for it to be over with the way his jaw was set and his hands were so very intentionally not gripping at his own legs.

Moonlight's gaze met his after he pulled back and there was something borderline subservient in the way Emerick's gaze lowered and he stayed still when Light returned back to work. He didn't respond immediately to what Light said. Light wanting to help him rather than criticize what would be considered a failure but another fixer he knew threw him off balance. His delicate touch kept him unsteady. Even his own ripperdoc didn't treat him this carefully. ] That... Makes sense.

[ He wanted to ask why Light was willing to bother with it at all. If Emerick did bleed out in the back of a cab then he certainly wouldn't have to worry about the fact that Emerick knew his real name and could dig up history on him - which Emerick hadn't done, and still had no intent to do. Not that Moonlight knew that or could rely on it. Of course, if Emerick didn't die on the way to his ripper or to a hospital, well, that would be par for the course with his expectations when it came to fixers if he were honest. He only trusted that they'd pay him for a job well done, and not much else.

Was this something that Light was doing just to ingratiate himself to Emerick? That didn't make much sense to Emerick - he was the one working for Light, after all, and had to keep doing a good job so that he would keep getting new jobs and keep getting paid. Their relationship was mutualistic, sure, but there were a lot more bodies to complete jobs than hands with jobs that needed completing. This investment into him just didn't make much sense but he wasn't going to question Light's judgement or make the man regret bothering to help. ]

[fixen]

[ He bandages the graze on Emerick's forehead with butterfly tape, and a proper bandage for the one on his neck. He wipes his hands down one last time, and moves to put the rest of the products away. ]

I'd suggest putting that arm in a sling for a few days so you're not making the hole worse by moving around too much. [ He shrugs one shoulder, as the clasps on the first aid kit are clicked closed. ] But you'll do what you do.

[ He slots the shard that Emerick had given him, eyes scanning the data on the screen for a few moments, then walks around to Emerick again, perching once more on the front of his desk. This time, his air is far more casual, now that the other is bandaged. He extends a cred chip between two fingers, but leans forward as he does so. This close, is cologne is obvious, something both clean and floral. He meets Emerick's gaze evenly, voice lower for the close distance between them. ]

Preem work insofar as speed, but let me make one thing clear: I'm not in the habit of sending mercs on a job with the expectation they'll get flatlined. I'm not that kind of fixer. I don't have any pretty ideas about Night City, but I like my working relationships to last. So if shit goes south, you take care of yourself, first. Can't spend eds if you're dead. And then I'd have to go find myself a new merc, too. Understood?

[ghostlight]

[ Emerick said nothing on the recommendation of wearing a sling but it was good advice that he would end up following. He didn't look forward to answering questions about it to the others, especially to the medtech he ran with, but he'd rather the wound heal up sooner so that he could get back to work sooner.

He sat and waited as Light verified the contents of the shard. He felt a little awkward as he waited, aware that it was likely one-sided but still very much aware that this would have some sort of impact on the image that Moonlight held of him, likely for the worse. That made him nervous but there was no changing it at this point. His attention turned back to Moonlight as he walked back to perch before Emerick on the desk.

He was about to reach for the cred chip but froze when Moonlight leaned in close enough that the cologne Light wore made him a little dizzy, flustered as he was. He swallowed and found his throat suddenly dry as he felt his pulse start to pick up and he felt heat creep up the back of his neck. He could feel arousal waking, deep in his gut and between his legs. All Emerick could do was hope that he took what the other man had said as a threat and didn't register this for what it was.

Emerick tried to speak but found that his voice didn't want to come to him. He opened his mouth to respond, couldn't, then closed it and nodded that he understood. A moment later, after he'd managed to collect himself enough to find his voice, he spoke up. ] I, uh- [ It sounded for a second like he might argue, and he'd considered it: he'd already mentioned he needed the eddies to afford seeing a doc, it was Light that insisted to take care of him. He backed down. ] Y-yes, understood. It won't happen again.

[fixen]

[ Moonlight watches the other man in his stunned silence. He's quiet a moment longer, studying Emerick as though trying to verify whether he understood or not, or perhaps whether he was lying. In the end, he sits a little straighter, and extends the cred chip. Moonlight smiles, pleased. ]

Good. Don't wanna hear you got flatlined on my account. [ It happens in Night City, God knows it happens too often, but it always leaves him with an ill feeling in his stomach, even now. ] If you do end up getting a little beat up, I'll help if I can - 'though I'm no ripper - but don't go making a habit of it. Mostly I just want you to keep that pretty head on your shoulders, mm?

[ghostlight]

[ Emerick stayed still as Moonlight seemed to examine him. He felt almost put under a microscope as he desperately hoped that whatever was happening would end soon and he wouldn't remain under such scrutiny. He breathed a soft sigh of relief as Moonlight finally pulled back enough that Emerick's head could start to clear as the other man's cologne left his nose.

He reached and took the chip from Moonlight's grip gingerly with an almost embarrassed smile. ]

This, uh, won't be a habit. [ Really, he wasn't the best thief when it came to klepping something physical, but this could have gone a lot worse than it did. He'd do any job that Light gave him but he hoped that most of them would stick to uncovering or stealing data moving forward. ] I like being alive and I do my best to avoid firefights like the one tonight, if it's possible. [ He hesitated, then continued. ]

You won't see me like this again. [ That was truly an impossible promise for him to make. Night City was full of random deaths, and heaps of grief and shame. Emerick could walk out of here and catch a stray bullet and drop dead before he even made inside of a cab. ]

[fixen]

[ The fixer watches Emerick through lidded eyes. No, he thinks, Emerick didn't understand after all. But he doesn't push it. It isn't as though he has pipe dreams of being a ripper or medtech. He'll take whatever gratification he can work out of Emerick; it keeps him safer, keeps the man less likely to air out Moonlight's dirty laundry, so to speak. But maybe Emerick is keen on not being indebted to Moonlight, to keep the upper hand. Moonlight won't press his luck on that front.

Even so... Moonlight smiles, something wry in the expression. ] Mm, I wouldn't tempt our fair city like that, [ he says, and the tone is low and teasing. Sending a media after a physical object was maybe not the best idea, but he'd had no one else available - and Emerick hadn't objected. ]

But I'm sure you want a shower and your bed, right? It's late.

[ghostlight]

[ It wasn't that Emerick misunderstood - though he was quite accustomed to playing a fool to keep people from thinking much of him - but he was rather keen of staying out of Moonlight's debt. He was already in over his head with everything else going on and he hardly needed another pair of shackles around his wrists.

Emerick exhaled a not quite chuckle, almost bitter, as Moonlight said not to tempt the city. His entire existence up until a month ago was to not tempt anything and to stay as far away from dying as he could. He had a wry response to what Moonlight said but he held his tongue rather than speak it as Emerick chose to put forth his professional persona. He so badly wanted to interact with the way Moonlight was teasing but he was still trying to find his footing from before.

The mention of a shower and bed, though, made Emerick perk up some. That did sound nice, and he had kept and inconvenienced Moonlight enough for one evening. ]

Yes, it is. [ Slowly, gingerly, he stood. He was not quite cradling his shoulder, but he was so careful to avoid moving it. ] A shower and bed sounds preem right now, [ he admitted. ] I've inconvenienced you enough for an evening.

[ He turned to leave, hesitating at the door to glance back at Moonlight. His gaze didn't quite make it to Moonlight's face except for the initial half second. ] Thanks again.

[fixen]

[ Moonlight's smile lingers, and he stands as Emerick does. He doesn't reach to help, but he does watch. ] You've certainly earned it.

[ His brows raise a little in surprise, but his smile widens, something warm behind the expression. He doesn't think of it as an inconvenience, not beyond his delayed evening, but posturing in Night City means Moonlight doesn't share as much. At best, it's building rapport. At worst, it's another bargaining chip. ] You're welcome.

[ghostlight]

[ Emerick left and went home to wash the blood off and fall into an uncomfortable sleep. He didn't do much the next couple of days as he took it easy, and it wasn't long before the cuts were healed and the hole in his shoulder wasn't a bother anymore. (It was convenient, perhaps, to have a medtech on call; feeding him a speedheal a day and tending to the wound.) He didn't think much of it as the pain receded, and he eventually got back to his day to day life as normal.

At some later date, Emerick's Agent lit up with a message while he was reading, a text message from Moonlight. His "client" had decided to pursue the deets regarding the child that was created from Touma Miura's DNA. He reviewed the details and pay. He considered trying to negotiate for more but Moonlight's "client" was being as generous as always and Emerick didn't want to be greedy. He confirmed he'd do it and asked for a week to do his research. He probably wouldn't need a week, not really, but he'd rather give himself some padding in case something came up or he had to hit the street and bribe some people for deets.

There was a piece of Emerick that wondered what the deeper interest in the girl was. Recovering the child didn't free Touma from prison, and even if Touma's DNA was what created this child it wasn't his brother - was it some sense of responsibility for a niece? Was it a morbid curiosity? It didn't matter, he supposed, and it was a position that Emerick certainly couldn't imagine being in.

Five days was what it ultimately took. Four days to do his digging, to contact a few people and bribe them for more information, plus a little more to forget his face. He took a day to put all of his notes together for Moonlight, in that same detailed, methodical type up. It included all of what he found and Emerick's own observations based on what he'd found previously and what he knew now.

He finished saving it all to a shard for Moonlight, then leaned back in the chair in his room and texted Light, absently combing through his loose hair with a hand as he kicked one heel up on his desk. ]

I have the info your client's looking for ready. When should I stop by?

[fixen]

[ It's more eddies than he should be spending, chasing something that will ultimately prove pointless. Touma is the only family he's been able to find- his parents are dead, perhaps, or moved to some facility elsewhere, never to see the light of day again. Night City has her own set of rules, and the NUSA besides, but if he thinks about it too long, it infuriates him. The president had been found guilty of under the table deals with Militech, she had pointed the finger at Arasaka for self-interest, and still his family was consigned to imprisonment for some indeterminable amount of time. Forgotten, just as the children too young for even the NUSA to imprison had been forgotten on the streets.

So chasing down the biological child of his brother would do nothing, and Moonlight knows it- but still he sends the text anyway, the reward, more than Emerick can say no to, he's sure. And it works. A week, he promises. Moonlight finds himself looking at the clock often, like it's counting days and not seconds, minutes, hours.

Emerick receives an answer almost immediately: ]

This evening if you have time. 6. There's been some commotion on the 16 bridge into the Watson development, be careful if you go that way.

[ghostlight]

(OOC: this is a text message but iPhone won’t do html on mobile:) Sure, thanks for the heads up. I’ll see you then.

[ A few hours to kill, if his Agent were to be believed (and she was). He could figure out what to do for a while. Before he knew it he was in a cab and he was on his way to Moonlight, careful to avoid the 16 bridge like he’d advised. It was as uneventful as anything else - staring out the window as the city slipped by him, just as living and breathing as he was.

He didn’t spend much time reflecting on the idea of the city and it’s rich life compared to the sad life he carved out for himself; his arrival to what was starting to become familiar came too soon, though it was almost a comfort, really. He was maybe starting to look forward to these meetings; the way they lacked tension and fear really spoke volumes to him on each ride in a cab. He found comfort in small spaces, and Moonlight did not strike fear into Emerick like most did. It helped that the man was pretty, too, but his gentle touch was what Emerick remembered most.

The usual knock on the door, the typical wait for permission to enter, the routine way he sank into the chair before Light’s desk at the other’s gesture. There was confidence in his movements, a certain level of comfort that wasn’t present before Light had patched him up. He smiled pleasantly to Light as he spoke. ]

Thank you for the heads up on the bridge - it saved me some trouble.

[fixen]

[ He notices the difference immediately when Emerick enters; a distinct confidence, Moonlight thinks. A comfort, like he belongs here, or maybe like he owns the place. His stomach clenches, cold washing in his veins. Here it comes. Emerick will use his identity against him, now. Bargaining for a higher reward, maybe, or something else altogether. He hates the idea of being beholden to anyone else, trying to be coy was a mistake. Emerick could have made a thousand copies of that data, could have found out anything else he wanted.

Moonlight smooths his anxiety with a smile, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs. ] Of course. How's your shoulder? [ I helped you when I didn't have to. ]

[ghostlight]

[ If Emerick was aware of Moonlight's anxiety (he wasn't) he sure didn't show it. He hadn't thought of digging into Moonlight personally or selling what info he did have since the first job, and it never particularly occurred to him that Moonlight might be fixating on it. If he knew he might do his best to reassure Moonlight that it wasn't his intent at all, but even then Moonlight likely wouldn't believe him.

When questioned about his shoulder, Emerick gently reached out to brush his fingers over where the wound had been in an automatic motion. His smile shifted from polite to genuine gratitude. ] It's doing well. It would have been much worse had you not helped. [ He was still very clearly grateful for it, though he couldn't keep thanking Moonlight for it.

His hand fell from his shoulder and his hands folded together. ] I hope that you've had a good week. I am sorry that it took me so long to find this information. My usual sources of info didn't have much on her.

[ He pulled out a case and set it on the desk, gently pushing it toward Moonlight. Inside was a shard with everything he'd found. He'd worked hard trying to find everything that was accessible on her, as well as buy deets off of disgruntled employees or those that didn't like what was going on. The way Emerick spoke about it sounded like he'd found next to nothing and had spent the past not quite week to no real avail. ] I hope that this is enough.

[fixen]

[ Moonlight's smile lingers, faint, an echo of Emerick's. ] I'm glad to hear it.

[ He sits forward as Emerick shifts to business, eyes trained on the other with an unusual sharpness. It sounds as though the man got next to nothing, but he accepts the case and opens it to pull out the shard. ]

You asked for a week and delivered in less than that, I wouldn't call that 'long'. [ It felt long, as does each second of silence that ticks by between them, Moonlight waiting as though to be struck, feeling tension in every muscle. He is used to putting on a calm facade. Nights in bars and parlors with flashing neon lights, sitting in the lap of a man whose friend or brother or partner was getting beaten in the back room, maybe killed, and Moonlight would swear he could hear the screams over the music or the mechanical ringing of pachinko machines.

He's not sure why he thinks of it now (he is sure, it's always a nagging voice in the back of his head, that man's voice), gaze refocusing to read the screen in front of him.

The 'name' is a string of numbers and letters, and Moonlight thinks bitterly a barcode would have served the same purpose, its so impersonal. There are pictures of the baby in development, health reports, and the mention that the infant was created specifically for a client who wanted a certain set of traits and characteristics, like the way people used to breed dogs. The client info is blank.

Moonlight spends a while looking over the data, longer than he had the last time. Finally, his attention returns to Emerick. He extends a cred chip, watching Emerick like he assumes the man won't simply take it and be done with it. ] I'd be curious to see what your idea of a lot of information is.

[ghostlight]

[ Emerick was quiet while Moonlight reviewed the data. He watched Moonlight, at first: he'd expected it to be a quick glance over as the way he reviewed data in the past. As Light lingered over the data, Emerick's gaze eventually fell off of the man so that he wasn't paying attention to his expression, as if to give him whatever privacy he could in such small quarters. He eventually looked down at his hands, starting to pick at the skin around his nails. He looked back up at Light when he heard the man move more significantly than simply scrolling through data.

He reached over and took the cred chip, slipping it into his wallet without so much as a second glance. ]

I'm never a fan of having to bribe people for info - people sometimes say whatever they want to get a few extra eddies. It's hard to verify. [ And, sure enough, what he'd pulled from bribes had been marked as possibly inaccurate, as with anything else Emerick couldn't actually verify. It was apparent he held himself to an impossible to reach standard for Night City, even if he dressed it up as if it were a very minor annoyance. He cared deeply about digging into and finding the entire truth of things - it was the entire premise of his reporting as a media - and he personally felt that he hadn't done enough for Moonlight. ]

I'm not thrilled I couldn't find the original commissioner deets for your client, either, but there's only so much time I can spend hitting brick walls before even I have to give up. [ There was an odd little hesitation over the word 'your' - he had almost said you, and had to catch himself and correct; he was certain Moonlight had caught it, but Emerick hoped he missed it. ]

[fixen]

No? [ Moonlight sits back in his chair, slow, pale eyes alight on Emerick's expression. He studies him, even more intensely than he had studied the file a moment ago. No bribing, but is blackmail really more to his taste? Emerick seems more confident, in this meeting, but if his persona of being a little nervous, a little soft, is an act - then he's quite good at it. Maybe he just plans to do what anyone in Night City does: climb on whoever make a convenient stairstep.

He smiles, thinly, but any warmth he had managed is gone now from his eyes. Still, he holds himself casually, lacing his fingers together in his lap. The way Emerick had stuttered over 'your,' Moonlight imagines all the more strongly now that the man has something on his mind. ] 'You,' yes. Let's not dance around it. I was careless, you've connected the dots, and now you hold the cards.

[ Moonlight recrosses his legs, head tilting, gaze never wavering. ] So let's cut to the chase: what do you intend to do about it?

[ghostlight]

[ The way that Moonlight was keeping keen watch on Emerick wasn't entirely unusual, but something about it was rubbing him the wrong way today. He felt put under a microscope, a science experiment being watched for sudden changes. There was something wrong about this meeting but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Surely, he assumed, if Light didn't trust him with this information, he wouldn't have hired Emerick for it? He kept referring to Light's 'client' out of a more politeness than anything, Emerick had figured that the two had a silent understanding that he knew what was going on.

When Moonlight finally decided to ask Emerick about his motivations point blank, then, it took him by surprise. His confidence - comfort, really: he'd grown comfortable enough around Moonlight - sloughed off as his eyebrows raised. His fingers laced together and he gripped his hands together so that he didn't betray the way they shook to Moonlight. The tension that spread through Emerick was otherwise obvious, and he couldn't hide the way he looked like a deer in headlights as he returned Light's stare. ]

What do I intend to do? [ He sounded genuinely confused, searching Moonlight's expression. It took him a second when he realized that perhaps their implicit understanding wasn't necessarily there, and that Moonlight perhaps didn't trust Emerick in the way he'd thought. ] Do... Do you think I intend to blackmail you, or hold all of this over your head?

[ Someone could understandably act angry at this, their hackles could raise and they could grow defensive and take a bite at Moonlight for even suggesting that their character might be less than savory. Emerick, on the other hand, did no such thing. He looked more like he was just trying to keep his fear response under control, and the way he spoke slowly implied that he was working hard to keep his voice steady. ] I never had the intent. The only thought was if you ever put me in a position to force my hand, but even then I wanted to avoid that if things went there.

[ His next question might have felt aggressive if anyone else asked, but with Emerick he just sounded confused. ] If you thought I would sell your information, why did you ask me to look into this?

[fixen]

[ It's difficult to get a read on Emerick. Moonlight prides himself on being able to make accurate quick judgments when dealing with people. It's how he has survived on the streets and thrived as a fixer without a knife in his back so far. But this man...

Emerick's nervousness is palpable, and Moonlight's voice stress analyzer says much the same. Where is the confidence of just a moment ago? He's dealt with people before nervous about playing their trump card, but excited by the thrill of it nonetheless, brandishing whatever advantage they think they have. This is— not that. If Moonlight didn't know better, he might say Emerick was genuinely confused. ]

That's precisely what I think. [ Given Emerick has all but admitted he still has at least one copy of his information, Moonlight is quite sure he isn't far off the mark. He gestures dismissively with one hand. He remains calm, even-toned, as though this might be business as usual. ] Unless you'd like to tell me you're the one person in Night City that won't claw his way over others to get ahead.

[ As for why he had asked... Moonlight's expression twists to something sardonic, but he doesn't answer. The truth is that right now, he doesn't have access to anyone else that would put in as much work as Emerick, other than Aka and— well, Aka can't know. He made a mistake not vetting someone before sending him after private information with Emerick, he won't do it again. ]